Tuesday, January 4, 2011

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.
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.
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???
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.


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.


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

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