awake

i miss dreams. i want them fiercely. real life is something confusing and complicated, dreams never lie. please come back, friends. i'm ready to write again.

stasis [part 4]

i talk too much.
i should never, ever, talk about whats happened to me in my life to anyone who doesn't already know the details.
pity party me, sad sack of facts.
...
changes happen. but i'm ill prepared.

:/

in the middle of the night he's holding me in his arms and the confessions stumble out of my mouth like a clumsy elephant into the room. lingering over our heads.
then he keeps holding me and i'm breathing again.
but what now. what is ticking in his head. neurotic. twitchy. yes all of that i'm breaking down the looks he gives me into points and bullets.... scared of repeat, doing it all over again.
i should have left him alone.
but i couldn't.

i hope he doesn't pay a price. i can cover it, i have credit when it comes to heartbreak and confusion.

we'll see.

everything else is going amazing, beyond social things i am excelling. happy, pure. it's such a dramatic change from the end of last year. and i'm FLYING. i want this to pause so i can enjoy it if even for a few weeks.... it's amazing.
more on this later.
cleaning time now.

apple soda, marty snoring, and i'm wide awake and completely exhausted.

[stop it, girl, you are doing it again.]
picking at your nails and chewing chewing chewing.

blasting music and singing in the shower i am free for my favorite 15 minutes of the day. voice cracking, wet hair in my face, sticking to my cheeks. becoming clean. water meets body and i just throw my face up in the spray. besides dreaming, i could live in a shower.

weird, i know...

i've been thinking about medication again. i think its time to find out what my options are. i've been needing the cutting more and more lately. it usually happens this way, when i become unhappy with my current relationships, i start work, or i need my privacy and space and have none.
all of those things are happening right now.
i'm anxious and unsettled. it's like my lovely last blog explains. havoc.
so i think it's time to try one more time, to go out on my own.
i'm terrified and i don't know maybe i'll just wait for [] to leave to the navy and come back. but something needs to change NOW.

aaahhh my stomach is twisting. viciously.

my brains laughs softly at my feeble attempts to maintain composure :/

furrow [part 2 maybe]

i have no idea what i am doing here. my eyes touch over things and quickly pass on.
i step back even a foot and think shit what the fuck is going on, i must be crazy.
but we're standing face to face promising each other that this isn't what it look like, hands up palms out trying to prove our sincerity while still hiding behind sarcasm and defense mechanisms. the question hangs heavy: what are we? and i don't have an answer, i would prefer we were nothing. simple flesh and blood beings in a state of existence, in close proximity.
hah. right.
anxiety, paranoia, all the wonderful emotions that wreck you when you have something bright in your eyes rolls over me in waves.
all i want in this world is something that i can have, just for a moment, that wont crash and burn explode in flames die in my arms.
i want to keep something when it feels like everything has slipped away.
lately i'm walking head up again, engaging people at work, laughing and dyeing my hair.
but its all a wonderful show, a type of game i've created, to see how much i can forget by focusing on this smile i've been putting out. smile stephanie, big. the people at work tell me i'm happy, calm, nice. inside i'm raging sometimes, crying all the time, wondering why i get out of bed at all. the depression lingers but is made sweeter and a touch delightful by the secrecy and intimacy.
no ones wants to know the other me, not anymore. i've run out of time for sugar coating and gentle whispers.
back to this though.
i'm tired of men. so tired. the interaction- burning passion in the beginning, tearing at each other, needing and seeking and warm only for it all to turn to turn cold in time. nothing like the smoldering growing love and friendship i read about in books, see in movies. i'm so tired. i've already been robbed of my womanly abilities, the rest seems ridiculous now.
i'm so bitter. lost.
so what am i doing here?
i want him to stay arms length, just far enough to hear me talk. just close enough to smell my hair and skin and want me. i need him to want me. as much as i don't want him to love me, i want him to still want me.
it doesn't make sense i know.
but its not one sided.
all his hurt i want to feed on it, i want his stories to come to my ears too, i want to keep him to myself.
it is nothing short of ridiculous.


i have to stop thinking about it and just go with it.
it never works. but the few delicious moments it does seem worth it.
touch now, fall apart later. i have been through it enough to know ill survive at least.


sigh. unfinished thoughts.

dream

one of the best ive ever felt... colors were mostly browns and copper.

im in a large open building. it resembles and old mall, shaped in a star almost with tall ceilings and small doors leading to other rooms stemming from the large halls. im walking alone, and trying to find someone. im coming to a busy corner of the building, i see people milling around one of the doors. i look inside and see what appears to be a tiny museum, small items in cases of glass sit on white pedestals and people sit in chairs watching a large screen at the back of the room. i walk past this room and go further down the large hall, which is getting darker. now i have people beside me, walking near me. they feel familiar ans safe, so i never look back. we come to a door at the very end of the hallway and it is partially boarded up. slipping past the boards we enter a cool, darkish, large room. it is covered in cobwebs, but scattered all over are statues and figures, carved from stone or set in brass and copper. they are breathtaking, reminiscent of spanish and italian masters, i gasp and try not to touch them. the people i bring in are talking fast, weve just made a discovery, and it feels so good
[blank]
in and out i come back in and im sitting in a circle next to a man who seems to be a cowboy. hes dusty and strong, mustached and wearing boots and good leather. he smells amazing, like a man. we are sitting indian style in the center of a museum style lit room. low and soft. people are all around us, sitting or standing, some are drinking or smoking, talking. in front of this man and me there is a copper antique cup, sitting on a bed of brass beads in a bowl. its old and i feel pulled to it. scattered around near the others feet and legs are other antique pieces, but these are tarnished horribly with white and blue sludge. its weird. a man comes up and tries to touch the cup in front of us. i lean over and whisper to my cowboy "its their skin, their oils, they are ruining our things"... so the cowboy pulls his gun and start shooting everyone in the room. i try to yell and tell them to run, but none of them do.
[blank]
standing in front of an older empty house. from the street it looks sad, yellow and white. im with turkey and im not sure where he came from. we go into the house and start looking through all the rooms. hes standing very close to me and im just talking, asking him questions and telling him i have missed him in my life so much. im in a closet reaching up to the top shelf and pulling down boxes full of comforting things that belong to other people. boxes of yarn, sweaters, vases and tiny vials. they all smell slightly musky sweet. turkey takes my hand and i never look at him. i walk into the closet and push aside the hanging clothes and find myself in a small bedroom of sorts, with thick beige carpeting and no furniture. the room is dark and only lit by a small high window near the ceiling of the this tiny place. there is a white board nailed to the lower part of the back wall and something is written on it, but i cant read it. there is a hole in the center of the white board. it makes me nervous. turkey is telling me we need to find some coloring books. i agree.
[blank]

waking up is harder and harder.

[HMIMIH]

[In my dream I was almost there
Then you pulled me aside and said, "You're going nowhere."
I know we are the chosen few but we're wasted
And that's why we're still waiting]


ick. sick with emotion, i'm roaming the quiet rooms of the semi empty house. one is sleeping, one is at work, the other is off doing whatever. i am deeply lonely, dropping onto the living room couch for less than a second, then up and walking again. bathroom- touch my face in the mirror, sigh and weigh myself, kitchen - half clean, smelling of bleach and dog food and something sweetly rotten, bedroom- cool air, my dog, and tv. but i'm twitching in the chair. picking at my skin. falling into myself. someone needs to be here. i want to meet a new person. not to love or touch, but to talk to. someone who could forget the awkward phases of lust and want. someone who won't fuddle it all up with like and hand holding. this person does not exist of course. it doesn't matter.
it's never their fault anyway. say one thing nice to me and i need you in a way that is unheard of, you shine with golden light, you are soft and tempting.
touch me right and i'm a puppy dog, following and forgetting to eat and sleep.
[it's ... hard to explain why]
but it's how i am. i feel the warm feeling welling over and it's so not the right thing for me and you but i let it happen. if i can even stop it, i don't know, i've honestly never tried.
as it spills over the edge inside i wonder how you can change my life. our friendship is maybe 5 minutes in. you've already sold me. maybe i love you.
this intense terrible dizzying need. it literally makes me sway on my feet. i roll in bed, eyes open and heart racing. why do i do this?! i can't breath. don't get close to me, unless you want to just ignore the greedy look in my eyes as i follow the lines of your body, and cling to your words.
needy.
desperate.
don't leave me.
i watch it all happen. completely aware. that's the shitty fun part. i see it. and it makes me laugh and cry and cringe.
to make it all crazier, right, i'm about to tell you i watch myself fall hard. like a second separate person. fuuuuuck. how is it i am out in the general population? whatever.
that's the usual.... i ask for something, knowing it's not in reach, because i am incapable of normal human relations.
wee.

i need to get off the damn computer. i can't look into myself for too long. :/

wishes

-tacos and a big red
-carpet in my room
-better skin
-more energy
-paint and canvas
-a new brain
-strong control over my moods
-to be kissed
-to sleep soundly next to someone
-clay
-my parents back in the us
-to not think for two minutes, just rest
-a cat
-coffee
-a child
-a plane ticket to anywhere
-a random letter in the mail
-a better job
-books and tuition for the fall semester
-motivation
-water

quick! dream

last night i dreamt i was in a big city, hidden away at some clinic for crazies. an old lady comes in i think i'm related to her and she tells me my great grandma has died. she starts to explain whats going on and as she does she starts to get younger. she draws little pictures on paper, and then she sticks her hands in my mouth and feels around my teeth and tongue, then she draws them out and points out all the cracks and cavities, telling me life is is hard and short. the nurse comes in and takes her away. then several others are in the room. a few girls and a small black man, who is my case worker, he brings me folders and papers that i dont understand and he tries to talk to me but i cant hear him through the sadness im feeling. some of the girls are talking close to us, i see that one of them is wearing a flowing red shirt and she has deep dark scars marching up her arm, im drawn to them like art. i envy her. she has fresh scratches on her elbows. i need those. i covet and lay back in the huge couch im on. the black man continues to talk but now im floating off.

i wake up slowly and softly... like cotton is in my head.

hrm. [typing too fast, punctuation is actually bothering me today]

pills, please (that same old diseased feeling)

you can always tell when i'm off meds.

i miss them.

i need them? shit. i'm reading blogs/articles/books/anything. hand over my face sometimes. drunk sometimes. cigarettes back in my life again. where is that elusive a ha moment.

hm... everything is ok right now. hands out in front of me as i move forward, waiting for obstacles to touch my fingers, but so far there is only air. still. calm before the storm and all that right?

sigh. quick fast lungs full of air sigh.

it is impossible to self medicate this feeling. i don't think i have it in me to sell my body for drugs and i like the soft buzz from drinking like a normal person. my other addiction is so taboo i get anxiety just thinking about the screaming consequences of it so i think i should steer clear of it for a while.
[oh how i would love to take a tv, the internet, a bag full of clothes, razors, candy, and marty and just move into a sweet, cold cave]
whatever.
the past few months i've been admitted twice. called begging in the middle of the night, considerably belligerent, sad, crying, talking to the woman on the other end of 911 and telling her i just can't fucking do this. thinking of that deep blackness inside of me at those moments. it makes me cringe. it felt like i could actually do it. and it frightened me so much that like a small child i reached out. pressed the 3 numbers and hoped for the best. both times ending up in handcuffs in the back of police cars.
medicated and trying to talk to doctors while they try to shuffle me out.
health insurance.
god bless america.
i can barely function when i'm crashing. and i have to get health insurance for anyone to give me more than two days worth of help.
i remember the doctor telling me "haven't we seen you before" and i just let my mouth curl.

and now i'm thinking of all this... father's day and whatnot.
that fucking anxiety ripping through me because i just HAD to call and hear his voice.
[what's wrong with me.]
this person, this boy, father of my [ ] child.
look, i'm trying to move on here. i don't even know why i'm trying to explain, i don't have to. i'm just saying. this isn't some tiny thing that happened and now i can't get over it. this is the fault line of life wrenching and twisting apart.
i repeat, whatever.
it could be any situation though. all i know is that i'm dizzy and sick with anxiety and a rushing brain. and all i want is some goddamn pills to make it just STOP for two seconds.

no money.... no sweet calm.

awesome.

it's ok, i'm working again, reading, painting, i have these people in my house who watch me. like a small masochistic toddler.

it's ok. it's ok. it better be ok.

passion in violent acts [in dreams]

i killed someone in my dream the other night, it was terrible and ferocious and i was shocked at how fast and intense the whole thing was.
something was happening in a store with a huge glass front. an argument, some accusation, i dont know...

i remember-

-everyone was wearing white and khaki at one point, as though we were in school, in uniform.
-shelves with little statues and jewelry.
-the person [male?] i was confronting was standing in front of me and i was so angry. we were circling each other and the people around us were yelling for us to stop. i yelled "he skinned that boy alive he has to pay!" then i lunged and stabbed.
-after people started to leave. they walked around the dead body. i laid down with another person and we put our legs up against the wall. he hands me a bubble wrap skirt and i pull it on. he says his assistant got it for me. mari.
-i look out the window, all the people leaving are covered in blood. i can feel the sticky warmth on me, but i cant see it.

in fact all of my dreams are becoming overtly sexual and violent. i dont know why, these phases happen in my sleep.

last night in fact there was a murder and sex. ???

points:

-i had moved into a dorm like apt complex that was tall and square spare on side, which slanted down steeply. it was futuristic in that the architecture was smooth and mono colored, with beautiful balconies and plants all over. small efficient rooms, and elevators. tvs in the hallway. it was very interesting.
-it felt like i was moving in with a family, but i could never really see them. most of the people living in the dorm were young and attractive.
-i wake up in the dream and go to my balcony, its dark and there are cops cars surrounding the lower floor. a man is behind me telling there has been a murder. i get the chills, seeing images of a strangled woman in my head. i go back inside.
-later im on the balcony taking pictures of it with a camera i have to hold up to my eye. its still very dark out. i'm taking a picture of a tree limb that leans into the balcony when the zoom begins to act up. as the camera flashes i see a mans face looking at me from over the limb. i freak out and run inside.
-now we're leaving me and a small group of people, we walk to a house a mile or so away and i look back and take in the image of the tall geometrical building i live in. we get to the little house and go upstairs. everything is cream carpet and buttery furniture. men and women talk to me. i go into the bathroom and put on a lacy very revealing dress and everyone is fucking outside of the bathroom i can hear them, so i sit on the toilet and play with some makeup ive found.
-later i walk out everyone is gone and a man walks up to me and tells me i look amazing and we walk home, crawl into bed and i fall into sleep in the dream and awaken in real life.

i miss my dreams. deeply. my stomach aches when i think about them. nothing could feel look like flow so smoothly be so colorful in real life.

sigh.

if only i could stay.

DOORMAT

i never understand what's happening... the next second i'm furious and you're the same only a shade redder.

how do you think you can get away with it????

fuck. i'm positive i'm not THAT crazy.


idiot.

just shut the fuck up and get on with it.

sensation

is returning to my limbs, and the color to my eyes.

FUCK

all day i put on that fake smile and act like i like the things coming out of your mouth and nodding and laughing and touching and hahahahaha o shit that so funny have another drink, but in reality im fucking SEETHING and cringing and crying and still laughing but hysterically and harshly and it all just simmers underneath it all. i just steam inside myself. waiting for the door to close between me and you so i can throw things from across the room fling glass and jewelry, clothes and my anger, get it out of me, tears everywhere. i can only handle hiding it for so long.
its just so unfuckingfair.
i dont understand what i was supposed to learn i dont care how many times i say it its fucking true, was i such i a bad person that you had to take EVERYTHING from me and in such a terrible fucking way? did i need to be punished that bad??
the huge ugly angry red scar n my stomach i have to see it everyday i shower change do anything self conscious when i have sex its all i can think about it burns and i twist inside. hah inside there is nothing inside they took half of me out, there are no more chances. nothing.

im sick with grief still but playing masterfully a role of recovery.

i should win an award.

everyone around me is celebrating the milestone again or for the first time. no matter how shitty they are, or the circumstances i know they will have a healthy happy ending. good for fucking them. yep, there goes the crying again. i cant help it when i cant physically feel my soul shriveling into a black useless mass. slowly and surely.

take what you want, all that you can carry

points of a dream:
it was so hot when i fell back asleep this morning. it was deep and unmoving.
i can't remember the dream straight out, bits and pieces come back.
-there was a house, large and dark, almost windowless and with stone walls. there was a bed in my room and it was thick with blankets and pillows, just like i like it. a man has bought me things and they lay in boxes strewn about the room. i fall on the bed and wish the boxes would go away. i feel guilty.
-there was a school with a huge parking lot full of people, some kind of festival. it's night time. dark spare the lights from the booths and people milling with candles and glow sticks. it reminds me of the first school my father taught at. we're trying to walk up to the school but it feels like it just keeps getting farther and farther away.
-i have a different body, the one i really want i suppose. all the people in my dream are stylized and beautiful. cut and made up. i look in the mirror and i'm blond and bed headed. i throw on a flimsy sweater and a short skirt. i don't care who sees me, i like the dominance that comes with being sexy. i have the keen understanding that this isn't real, it does make me sad inside.
-the huge grocery store we all went to. a giant heb. the makeup section is massive, i linger at the nail polish. this dream gets a little toooooo sexual here. i'll move on.

i loved the way the blankets on that bed felt. it's a bed for me, perfect and soft and hidden in the back of a dark cool house.

meanwhile i'm here. numb again. it comes in waves. huge flowing salty waves.
i'm just so tired. always. working out and trying to find energy i'm desperately trying to find balance and normality.

i think i've lost the ability to connect to here and now.
i miss and love the dreams more that the physical around me.


whatever.


we'll see if the fog clears, it does sometimes and i'm sane again. for now i'm rolling with the crazy.

weeee.

eat

i am starving. thinking in my head, as my refrigerator dies in the kitchen, what am i going to do?

i want:





something sweet, oh something strong... never mind. the food we buy normally is... boring. i've been eating nothing but rice and protein. watching the food network. going crazy with envy.



my stomach is crying i think. i keep trying to look for new art online, but keep ending up on foodie sites. damnit.



if i was rich i would waste days out with people, at lunch, dinner, whenever, oh you've never tried that get it, get three, what do you think, open your mouth and eat THIS.

it would be fulfilling and slightly frustrating when i start to get bigger. more running maybe.



whatever. i am off in search of something now. to put. into my face.

shut up, stomach.

i just decided

every time i go to the park i feel different. running was impossible before, something i always dreamed about. in dreams i would push harder, throw my arms out, laugh. in real life i'm lip synching, aching, enjoying the wind and sunset, and shocked. miles go by, i'm feeling leaner, stronger and less anxious. some times anyway. it was time to stop thinking about it. nothing was happening.

now. i'm electric.

i try to shake the the voice that keeps repeating mania, i need to believe this is me.

right

surprising conversations with people i covet are enough for me to twist in thought. following the lines of their bodies, not meeting their eyes, yet moved by how they react and adapt. the words coming from them, i wonder how they keep their tone steady, unwavering. i am jealous. across the room, across the table. i sit twisting my hair and nodding. trying to talk, but pausing and breaking too much. these people think i have it all figured out. but really i am just in a constant state of want.
[i shake my head to clear it as i walk away]
[it doesn't work]
sometimes painting turns against me. i sit in the hot living room, with the windows open, air pouring in and not helping, radio loud. mostly not even painting, head in my hands, singing to myself. sounds crazy. but it feels so good. i feel alone in the city, the house is still. i walk through the rooms, smelling the other people who live here, my closest friends, comfort. there is water and color everywhere and i just let it dry on my skin. peeling it off gives pleasure.
after the initial enjoyment i wish people were with me. the loneliness comes back. and i get a stomachache.
every which way i can't just have a straight line type of moment.
one second is this, next second i want to go to india. sheesh.
i need to stop with the indulging.
the need.
that strong ugly warm desperate inviting need.
like cancer.

sigh.

what do you do...

tracking time

dreams. in and out:
in a huge hotel of some kind, there is something like a convention, fiesta, maybe a party going on. there are people milling everywhere, talking and gathering in groups. i'm on an escalator going to a room in the hotel. when i get there i see that its not really a hotel room, but a small blue apartment, where i know d[] and a[] live. i wander through it wondering where they are. as i go to the kitchen i sit on a bar stool and notice that i can see through the floor, which is glass. there is pretty clear blue green water under there, with small orange glass fish flittering back and forth. these fish are a familiar motif in many of my dreams where a shock, trauma or death happens. i don't make the connection at the time. the kitchen is lonely and partially dark in the area back near the stove and fridge. i think of ice cream and candy, then leave. when i exit the apartment i come into a large courtyard/mall. its fall colored, browns and oranges. escalators take people up to huge balconies and leaves sway from the ivy trailing from them. i go through a small door to my left and come into a large square room with a very tall ceiling. its an auditorium, with wooden seating like i had in elementary school and a wooden stage. it smells like cherry jolly ranchers, like the wax they used to use. there is a small group of people here. a bald man is talking, telling us we should buckle down and spend the night, that we can see spirits and share the experience. i see dark shadows floating above us near the rafters. i get chills. the bald man brings in another group of people but our group is enraged, yelling "who are they!" "you lied" and other things i don't catch. the new guys come and sit with us in the chairs, one of them is my cousin and he asks me what we're doing here. i'm painting my nails all of a sudden and as i put the pretty green on i nonchalantly say "nothing. we're going to die here." no sooner the words come out of my mouth that i believe them fully, and i turn to see the man locking the gate where the door is. i run to it and push my way out, screaming. in the hallway i catch my breath, and behind me i feel heat and smell burning hair. i don't turn around to see. people i know are walking by but i'm frozen.
he moves in his sleep, and i wake up.

all things matte can sometimes glitter

i may or may not be a little intoxicated.

sometimes i wonder what life will be like if i was still in 2007.

i think that was one of the best times of my life.


i worry now, about me. i still get dark, lost, fallen,

i miss her.

things are different now. things have changed.

what should i do?

pls tell me. advise. suggest.

pls?

hello paranoia

i've lost 6 pounds in two days.
i can't stop moving, my heart is beating too fast too hard.
gotta admit, i kinda like the dizziness.
wee.
this house. it isn't clean. but i've been scrubbing all day.
i haven't had a full cigarette, it tastes like i'm pregnant again.
[impossible]
its a side effect, an actual welcomed one.
[acrid nostalgia]


i need coffee.

and better sleep.

i feel like she blew me off this weekend and i wonder if she has reached her level of acceptance with me. everyone has a ceiling. she's still trying to be nice.

i'm angry, but contained.
hurt, but i can see why it is the way it is.

sigh.

large white pill small tan pill

life cycles.

snap.

brain dead.

at least till these meds kick in.


i am so tired. i could sleep for days. and days. please brain, cant you just try with me? im always trying so hard to make you happy but you simply refuse. :(

i feel disgusting in my own body.

dear god, send some changes.

singing under my breath, lost in cheap beer i pray

i find so many truths here, analyze myself and come to understandings. but i'm so weak. i never stick to it. fitting, its the new year. the time for discarded good intentions and resolutions.
all year with me.
but whatever right? it happens in sequence.
death.
heartbreak.
within a few months, i'll cycle again.
again.
again.
stop telling me its going to be ok, stop trying to make me look up and forward. im sorry but im done with all that bullshit.
lies.
im pretty sure he left me last night. i dont see how we could recover from that.
he laid there in bed and told me im no help to him, he wont come live with me, and when i walked out into the cold night on this bad side of town he just let me go. i walked home. into the warm arms of my best friend and dog. and i slept for hours, leaving my phone off and dead. i slept, envious. im so tired of the struggle that is human interaction. this crap called love, this lie that is friendship. im too demanding, expectant. i believe we should give as we get, but that would mean i should start telling everyone im busy and stop talking to people who arent cool enough to be seen with me. i should start flaking out and calling it off. i should just stop. everyone but one person is pissing me off, disappointing, repetitive in their apologies and false statements.

i sound ridiculous! how does anyone complain when it sounds so fucking stupid!

ugh ugh ugh.

stomp foot, walk away.

the things i want to tell you

are really easy sentences to make. impossible to say, apparently.

i throw up my arms and walk away, tell you to get out, i'm not in the mood, why do you come over? you make me so mad.
inside i'm this stupid girl, pontificating all the reasons you're bothering the hell out of me.
really i just want to tell you
that i need you to be more than what you are right now. that i seem to have put you up on this pedestal, that sometimes i may or may not let your looks sway and charm me and in my head i'm creating a personality behind it that doesn't match the man i'm looking at intently. sometimes you can be stupid. there i said it. but it's true. i throw hints and tips like daggers and they miss you as you're too busy messing with your phone or music. head bent. miles away.
i need to tell you
that sometimes you make me feel lonely. and isn't that the opposite of what i should feel?

i wish i could talk.

everyone i know has this little conversation stored inside my head. they'll never hear the words in the jar with their name on it.

instead i'll just pout some more.

everything is fine.

right?

i think tonight

im going to stay up again. ride that insomnia feeling, embrace the almost insanity in the early morning hours. clean clean clean. just scrub at everything, wipe it all down, disinfect. by morning ill have a headache and ill fall into the arms of things i feel most comfortable with, dreams and exhaustion.
[fantastic]
really im starting to think that i may be thinking too much about things. i really need to find a nice quiet spot and turn off the caring, the analysis, and the effort. this uphill battle, this comparing my stupid shitty life to others, well, obviously its not working out. im miserable. all the time, i wonder why things fall into their laps and i cant even get my fucking financial aid to go through.... or stop my loved ones from falling dead around me.
i mean
i paint, i read, i talk to the dog, i try oh so very hard to just function, but i hate it. i am so jealous of everyone. but i think i can stop it. im sure i can help myself. there has to be a space for me here. and im sure i can find it.
[are you there?]
stopping the film reel [reference] is very hard. if not impossible. its so loud sometimes, its almost like people standing near me can hear it. every second is a new scenario, [tick tick tick] a memory, [tick tick tick] a fantasy... [tick] something. its maddening, it really is. it makes leading a normal life seem laughable. people talk to me and paranoia sets in or i focus too much on their lips, their bodies, their voices. i cant keep things from turning fuzzy behind these things. its so hard to explain to someone that you're broken. ive heard others use this term for themselves, but it usually fixes itself pretty quickly and the normality continues for them. im stuck in a world that i love but can't maintain. a made up section of life that doesn't produce anything, that just is. watching people from a very bitter place. they try so hard to be supportive. but when its 6 in the morning and im in the back of a cop car on my way to the hospital AGAIN all i fear comes to the surface and i instantly hide. i want to just open up to them, the doctors my friends, family, i want to stand up and say this is whats going on please listen. this last time i went in, days before new years, yes in the back of that cop car, i waited for ten hours in the waiting room of the er, with just a gown and my thoughts.
[watching people filter in and out. stretchers and blood. children and men.]
i was already planning my escape. thinking of things to say to the doctor to get him to let me go. even though i had called for help, even though i wanted to fix it, i was already working on ways to weasel out. and i was aware, totally watching myself, listening to the fear, the urge to run. i was finally called back to the psych unit and put into a room connecting to the general room with the other crazies. there was this girl in there, she was a skinny blond thing, talking to the nurses asking them when she could go home. when they told her she would have to go to the state hospital she snapped, got on the phone screamed at someone about her baby then bashed the phone and her head against the wall. she stalked back and forth in that room, bleeding and screaming while i watched from my little room, through that big window. she looked in at me then walked off. the nurses tried to calm her, talking to her, asking her about her baby but she was gone. screaming no no my baby he needs me i need him please please what the fuck are you staring at do something help me please help me help me. screaming so loud i blinked, just listening to her lost in her madness. lost to where no one could reach her, she was drowning. and my heart broke for her. i thanked god i wasn't THAT fucked up, although i could understand perfectly what she was feeling and that's what hurt the most.
[i wanted to reach out to her, but she wouldn't see me standing there.]
[demons inside her head she said]
the doctor came in a little after that and we talked. i was honest, i showed him my arm, and he said i could go home. the end for me. he says to get a psychiatrist, i know i wont, its too much trouble, its too much effort, i cant. i wont. i knew it walking out. just the thought of health insurance makes me think of the unopened letters at home from them with my little baby's name on them. just the word medicaid makes me want to throw up. i don't want to touch the tangled mess that is my benefits, im done with that. and since no good soul is going to work for free on the level i need them too i guess im stuck with this 3/4 full bottle of lithium from 9 months ago. i haven't taken one, im still debating. im not an idiot, but i will admit the thought of faulty self medication is still more appealing that blind chaos.
whatever.
i left the hospital and i immediately went back into hiding. the thoughts and torment, pushed away for the sake of my loved ones. i cant ever really talk to them anyway, they have all their own shit going on and how needy am i that i need to bring them down with this bullshit right???
[haaahaaaaaaa]
yep thats where i go, everytime i feel bad, put out, jealous, i laugh it off
WHAT I SAY: its all good, im fine, don't worry sure tell me that story again, no it's ok i don't need you to come over if its that much trouble, yea yea im happy for you, yea everything is looking up, yea that chick was crazy, hahahaha. etc etc.
TRANSLATION: nothing is ok, i want sharp things, i miss my baby i want my baby i cant even look at pregnant people anymore baby laughter makes me dizzy with grief, im broke and useless, im jealous of you're new relationship because even though you promised you would leave me you already are, i needed you more than anything last night but i couldn't call you, i know you have to work but i need you more, im so sorry, im trying to be better, im trying.

[pssssshhhhhh]

my goodness. what the fuck is going on.

i haven't written this much in a long time. im so ready for everything to settle down, but then i go back and read the blogs, ready my own words and i break down a little. whats changed? im still this bipolar spectacle on a little known blog site. almost completely honest with strangers but not with the ones around me. its been a long time. how am i still alive? maybe i just need to get used to this. being stepped on. after November nothing could hurt. i thought it would make me string but im still unsteady and baffled at the unfairness of everything. and i cant take the everything happens for a reason bullshit anymore, make me a t shirt and get it over with. blah.
[yeesh there's that rage... ]
its ok, breath, somethings going to happen im sure, something has to change. i say it every time out of blind ignorant optimism. but maybe that's the key. close your eyes fold your arms step back and let yourself fall. its either ground or giant balloon. we'll see.

im no good at closing these things. usually i start then ramble on about something else. yay. and in truth, little blog, i feel close to you. you've been here for me for a long time. i remember coming to you with everything, after drunk nights lost in lights and music, talking to you about touching people, swimming in the middle of the night, existential breaks, psychotic breaks, outings with new people, fights with them later. i just. feel like my life has more meaning here than in the real world that seems hardly healthy.

i really don't know what im saying. i put music on and now im completely useless.

wonderful.

maybe if people actually read this it wouldn't be so hard to understand me. probably not. ehhh.