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.

i know

what i am.

the things i miss

are many. a lot of it is people, sure. some are dreams. some places. hidden and warm. i yearn so much more for the past than the present. mostly because i can remember good feelings, passion, excitement. the future only seems to bring pain, anger. i don't want to continue, i would much rather run back, and hide in the soft crevasses of the familiar. been there done that is not a bad thing to me. i wish life was choice instead of constant forward movement.
but then i wish a lot of things. and somehow the opposite happens.

sooo it's the new year. and i can't really tell you how i'm feeling. i've been reading the old blogs and i miss that person. that girl who seemed so effortless and careless, winning and running and singing and dancing, oh so much dancing. i miss the person i used to be. and i would like to go there again. all the recent painting has really inspired me to be thing i want. i feel like lately i've been shelled up, cold, introverted.

time to make a change i think. maybe i'll grow my hair. maybe i won't stop smoking. i am pretty tired of expecting things, and willing things and trying to be good, when nothing i do is met with reward. i've always been happier with a taste of destruction.

we'll see how it goes i guess.

cheers. read up next year.

brain vacay

i feel... pretty numb. which is lovely.

there really is nothing i want more, if i could stay like this forever i would embrace it. its this, or the rage, the sadness, the desperation. all that fun stuff. all those old friends.
[hello guys, yes i remember ya'll. sure invade my head and body. its all good. im sure you remember where everything is.]
whatever, being dramatic is a neat little distraction.

alone in other people's houses [caff version 2.0]

the world resumed. im catching up.

sneaking around this room and house, i think about time. time has been creeping. usually by now its oh snap hello 2012 and im thinking oh shit i dont have time to prepare for the apocalypse. usually its been years and ive been in a coma lost in drink fallen in and out of relationships and somehow in another home. changes. they slip by me. really i dont care enough to pay attention. usually i can be ok with this. ive had a lot of time to think about things. and boy oh boy there has been a lot to think about. in between cigarette cravings and coffee breaks i embrace the trigger. fall back to the day, when i sat clutching my chest, grabbing blindly for his hand, and walking upstairs to grow old in 45 minutes. there is always a trigger.
here i pause and wipe dust from this computer screen. turn to the tv, think about the other universe/dimension where this is not what im doing. where this person is me but not me. maybe i have long hair, maybe i dont have freckles, maybe i dont have this dull nagging pain in my lower stomach. maybe im talking to her right now. its hard to convince yourself that insanity is bad, when you can grab the world and shake it there, change it, find what you need and without hesitating you can give in. crazy people, really crazy people blink in and out of reality. maybe im jealous. maybe im done with all this stability. for all 7 months i had it, it was all for nothing. maybe. i dont know. this may just be one of my not so good days. the other night the boy i love leaned me against a car and begged me to come back, wake up, realize that all is not lost and for the life of me i couldnt even nod. i looked up into his face and wanted to be asleep. still with him, but not really.
there is so much to live for. so much to stay for. i just have to hold onto those things. its been exactly 20 days. maybe its just too early.
you dont want to be a crazy person steph. with your luck youll end up one of those trapped in their head in a little room with windows and no doors. womp.
i laugh, i touch, i talk, i sleep, and i have goals.
that cant be as bad as it feels, i cant be guilty for living for the rest of my life. she would probably be frustrated, watching me run in circles and talking myself out of things. i just wish i could hear her voice... just once.
aaaahhh impossible things we need so deeply. impossible.
up and down, this blog is brain vomit.
i need to finish cleaning.
need to move.
pfffffff........ thanks monday.

need

i have much of it.

when does everything stop hurting, for real.

i need so much for a few quiet moments. but there is so much static and crackling im sure its too late. must have missed the window.

and the world started to break apart

everything hurts. i need to do this. writing has always created something special in me, maybe taken away from the physical social thing, but something.
but right now im not sure, im not sure what will help.
im shaking loose, my mind is literally falling out of my eyes and nose, my heart... my poor fucking heart is beating a thousand times per second, too hard too fast. i went into the hospital last thurs day via an ambulance, excited and a little scared. water broken, pain coming, baby coming. i was praying on the hightway, EMTs talking to the back of my head. i thought everything was going to be ok. now. im at my sisters house. and i dont have a baby. i have a crooked painful cut on my stomach staples marching downward, i have a sore back, i have a hysterectomy, i have a cracked mind. i have a bag full of tiny blankets, knitted tiny beanies, tiny shoes, tiny everything. and still i have nothing. my arms have nothing.
my baby was tiny. she was barely there. she was mostly tubes, laying in a plastic box. and everything was wrong.
the doctors said she was sick. alot of words, but once he said the word 'fatal' i shut down. i reached for her fathers hands and let go of whatever sanity and hope i had left.
these things happen in the world everyday. but i dont care or give a crap about that. the things i would say to someone if the situation was reversed are meaningless. they bounce off me. the hole in my chest doesnt want to be filled. im so angry. my family calls and i dont answer. i dont want them to be sad for me or offer comfort. its almost like the nails waiting for me to decide im ready to start in with the hammer. it would be a tiny coffin. i dont think im ever going to be ready. i had a daughter, me, i was so ready for this little girl. my whole being was being poured into her growth, her happiness.. her life. and i had her for 5 days.
i honestly dont know what to do.
i try to go out, and i wake up heavy with guilt.
when i laugh something twitches as if to say, thats not fair.
i kiss my man and i think about what it would have been like to giggle with her about boys.
i repeat, everything hurts.
grief is a funny thing. sadness, anger, and other steps that seem much less prominent or important right now. i want my friends to be there, but i feel like a burden, a crying mess, a wreck.
nothing is working right. losing a child was not in my plans, my life has been this feeling over and over and ill be honest im fucking tired. i cant lose anyone else! where is the lesson? what was i supposed to learn? that i am strong enough to take my tiny baby off life support, let her father hold her while she died, wait in a little well decorated room for the nurse to bring her in after, so i could actually hold her? i wanted to feel her warmth, smell her skin, talk to her so she would look at me. not hold a small dead child wrapped in beautiful blankets and stumble through a cracked and difficult goodbye. this wasnt fair this wasnt fair this wasnt fair. oh, and they took my uterus too so i cant ever carry a child again mid C section? awesome, whats the lesson there? that i should buy some slamming jeans? my baby and my chances to do it again are basically gone. my sister tells me she'll carry my future children, but i miss my stomach, looking down and touching it, looking funny but womanly in my clothes.
fuck. this is something else man. i tell you im just not sure what happened.
pouring out feels better. i need it, since i cant really talk to people right now. the small group im hiding in, well they protect me, watch me, love me. but i want to sneak away and punch something, draw blood, scream.
psh. for now all i can do is write this and chug coffee. her blanket is here, i touch it often. it smells like the hospital, i wish it would hold the smell forever.

i miss you, baby. Alastair. piece of me.

back to the chaos. a little lighter though, thankfully.

the efforts

I'm laying in bed with my cell phone pouring data and my brain is flying. Everything is too fast right now. Why can't I just take a pause and settle in some sweet quiet black for a while? I want it. Please?

probably

i am crawling out of my skin.

adjusting? resigning?

i dont know. im just plain annoyed with myself.
i cant entertain, help, support, or do anything for myself.

i almost want to have the baby, sign some papers, walk out alone and crawl into a cardboard box to sleep off the next 20 years.

a serious though never happens when despair settles in first.

waiting, mostly

i need to get back to this.
everything seems steady. moving. soft. stable.
im waiting for this little flutter to become a person. 6 months now and i feel tired, huge, and womanly. but im still stressed.
money, time constraints, decisions, blurs on an ultrasound.
how much can one brain stand?
creeping around the house, alone most times, thinking. thats never been a good combination. for me.

make it.

im trying.

miss

ive made a few wrong decisions down the line, alot of them staring me in the face, ghosts back to remind me forever. but ive learned to ignore them mostly. maybe im not interested in lessons.
but this time around im a little shell shocked. i chose wrong, way wrong. i let the voices of others kill something and mix anger and i stormed out on the thing i want now more than ever. people dont usually get to me like this, its been years since the last time. im concerned. maybe ill get over it, but as with all human relationships pertaining to me i dont give it time to heal, i dont want to know what it would be like if i got over it i just want it back, and its burning in my head. wait wait wait i DID give it time, i gave it space, i ran away for months, moved, got involved elsewhere, and fuck - got pregnant - so i mean, that is time, that is distance, and while it is also blatant masochism without the shiny razors its evidence. i tried. true, when he came back and smiled at me i decided right there i had given up on fighting but i was sure, ready for, convinced that i had a life of single mom, no time for dating, time to focus joy ahead of me. he tells me the belly breaks his heart, that he loves me. but i hear whats underneath. he doesnt want me anymore and im sure i can be ok with that. i just miss my old life. everyday. i love my baby, and im sure when i see it nothing will matter but him/her. and all this maybe doesnt have anything to do with a person, maybe alot this is just the endless amount of lonely i have inside of me. burning. the disappointing result of my last relationship, the let down. the anger. i just need something. i swear at one time there were men on this planet. not the playthings and boys i see today. there has to be hope for the women out there.
even the broken ones like me. doing this alone is breaking my heart. as not to say i dont have friends, wonderful friends, who take care of me night and day. but its a different feeling when someone kisses you, runs his hands through your hair and down your face and says im here, go to sleep.
eeeeh enough of this.

i find comfort

in the arms of people.

i swear i get rushes, blood to the head, woozy stints of yes this is perfect when i feel needed, wanted and desired.
the lows disappear.
its like im high.
and right now its the necessary.

uncomfortable silences

generally awkward, i tend to stay away from situations that make me uncomfortable. this leads to lack of closure in fighting instances, people think i dont care, and sometimes i forget who my family is. i just dont like it when my heart beats that hard, when i cant breathe, when i get the twitches in my chest.
and these people come in and out.
reminding me im a coward.

slow

the days blur.

brainismushhandsarereaching

self pressure

i see myself differently today. lately ive been feeling frantic and burdening. today i wake from dreams full of houses, guns, my grandmother, and hamburgers and i am absolutely IN LOVE with my mind. wired. on fire. the days that i can remember the details...
those are the few times i can appreciate the way i tick.
i go through old pictures, see all the art that i made, created with my own hands on the walls of my old houses. ive since given them away, i never ask for payment, i only ask they hang, proud and strong in someone elses space. parts of me. still, i miss them like children. their texture, their feeling, the colors.
i know that there is a person worth saving in here.
its just.
i bend to people. they look at me and i get anxious and guilty. sometimes for no reason.
i wish i could live in dreams. live in paint. go away and stay in a room that only i know about. (heh thought of harry potter)

maybe today is the day, where one of my mini empowerment phases where i am strong and sure begins. i hope so. im tired of being sad. i love it so, yes, but its exhausting.

well see.