Wednesday
Jan152014

19th Nervous Breakdown

When blogging, I feel so awkward. I strive to be honest, but I also sterilize my feelings sometimes & then it all comes out sounding hokey-dokey. I guess I do this so I won't sound like a trashy or insane person. I don't think I'm either of those things, but I also think I'm a little too edgy for my hometown, so I've learned to hide a little bit, which feels like lying, which brings guilt, which then becomes anger and resentment. So I stay quiet instead. I'm still working on myself. It's hard to be responsible and honest and civilized and cool all at the same time. Once again I pledge to blog more & try to be honest and real and less of a wanker.

So I'll start with this: 2013 sucked. If I could speak directly to 2013, I'd say, "Farewell, 2013! Fuck your mother!" I wanted & tried so desperately for it to be a good year, but it was horrific. It was a year of loss, and not just loss, but the beginning of a long string of losses, the consequences of which I'm still dealing with. I still have all my body parts intact, so yay that, but I'm experiencing a ton of anxiety. It's almost at a level of shutting me down, but I want to try to use it to express myself. I'm not sure how that might work yet.

This evening I began working on a piece of writing without knowing where it was going. It's raw and un-edited, and I should be ashamed of myself, and I would normally never share it. Well, fuck it. As Calhoun Tubbs would say, "Like to hear it? Here it go":

~Amnesia~

The truth is
I can't remember when I last brushed my teeth or washed my hair
So I do it again
And again
Or was that yesterday?
I'm not sure
You see, I sometimes forget things.
I can't tell which day it is now or if it's night.
So I do it again
So no one will find me disgusting.
So no one will tell me to wait
"I love you. Wait for me. I'll be right there."
So no one will leave me.
Again.
I must have been so disgusting.

All I can think about are ways to be less disgusting.
Ways to be better. But there are too many things to consider
There are too many things beyond my grasp.
And so I forget things.

I forget everything.
I forgot where I was supposed to be.
I forgot where you told me to wait.

Now I am a map-less stow-away on a kamikaze
with a lost target
Looping around your old photograph.
I only wanted to find you.
Wanted to get to you. Quietly.
Not to disrupt you. Not to rush you.
Trying to figure out what was taking you so long.
You, you told me to wait.
I always gave you the benefit of the doubt.
I always do what I'm told.
I always get confused by the love.
There is too much to consider.
So I forget things.

I made a bad choice.
There's going to be a crash.
There's Catastrophe in the mirror
I look so disgusting.
I can't tell how far away ground zero lies.
But I know it's over
And in my panic I tend to forget things.
And so I can't remember if I've brushed my teeth, you understand.

When they find my body in the wreckage
They'll shake their heads.
They must think I'm so disgusting.

~

Thanks for reading. And for the record, I think I brushed my teeth four times today.


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Mood:
"Tired than a motherfucker."

 

Monday
Aug122013

Working too Hard Can Give You a Heart Attack-ack-ack-ack-ack-ack

Took a little ride in the ambulance. My 6-yr-old son had to ride along, which he thought was pretty cool. It was half-past midnight & I feared I was having a heart attack. I wasn't. But I was having another attack of my disease. A week later, it put me on the ground & forced some embarrassing noises out of my mouth, involuntarily, of course. Part of me believes that the docs will eventually fix this "thing" that's happening to me. That part of me is in denial. And I suddenly realized I think of much of my life in "completes": I'll complete my job, I'll complete my wardrobe, I'll complete friendships, I'll complete housework, I'll complete my marriage, I'll complete this disease. I see everything in terms of deadlines and endings, and I don't know why. The only way to be finished is to be dead. Life is a dynamic organic tango where the music never stops until the dance is all the way over. And all I worry about is when I'll be completed with things and with people and with pain. Maybe it's because I'm so desperate for rest, for a new well of hope, and this disease is keeping those things away from me. I feel like if I can complete this shitty test I'm forced to endure, I can start fresh. But instead I shuffle through life like a zombie. I'd like that to end. This weekend I was hoping to win the lottery so that I can afford a chef and a housekeeper and a personal doctor and a freaking vacation from my life. I don't have the courage to check my numbers. And I know all the cash in the world can't make this go away. So, I don't know. I guess I'll keep waiting for a magic idea, waiting to feel like I deserve better. Jesus, I'm sick of being a bummer. I'll go look for some chocolate.

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Mood: Feverish

Wednesday
Jul312013

Muh-muh-muh-muh, Muh-muh-muh-muh, Madness...

I'd like to blog more. I'm working a ton & I'm experiencing a flare-up of my disease (which is now believed by my doc to be MS), so things aren't exactly awesome. I used to be funny -- at least a little, but now I feel like my personality is soggy. My beauty routine is set to level: Quasimodo. I feel bad; I look bad. So since I don't want my blog to give people the sads & I can't seem to find my sense of humor, I've been avoiding writing. Maybe I'm just trying to figure out exactly what I'd like to say to the world.

I am doing a few things that make me happy during this funky period of health, though, one of which is getting braces for my teeth. They weren't in terrible shape, but I was a smidge self-conscious. Today they changed out my wires and increased the pressure from my rubber bands . . . and it made me feel great. It hurts, but I like it. I used to call myself an emotional masochist, but maybe I just prefer suffering in any form. I think I like pain, or maybe I'm just used to it. I can barely open my jaw, which has caused me to believe I could be a very good ventriloquist. A masochistic ventriloquist. Maybe the reason I enjoy the pain is because I know I'm engaged in a form of self-improvement. Whenever I think about the term "self improvement," I think of the quote from Tyler Durden in Fight Club: "Self-improvement is masturbation." So I guess that makes me a masochistic, ventriloquist masturbator. I should get some sleep.

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Mood: Tired and malaligned.

Wednesday
Apr242013

They Call Me Mellow Yellow

I'm a grown-ass woman. Most days, however, I feel just as silly and inexperienced about life as I did when I was a teenager. I still feel young in spirit, but my body constantly reminds me of my limits. I'm sick. I'm this-might-be-permanent-for-the-rest-of-my-life sick. Aging isn't helping anything either. So for the first time, I'm dealing with "can't." This type of can't isn't to be confused with "won't." This can't is the real deal. I can't always accomplish what I want, or sometimes when I'm lucky, I can meet meet a small goal after a long, looooooong, ridiculous amount of time. I try really hard to start things early because I know I'll be late getting it done (I'll probably still be spring cleaning in December). But normal tasks are beginning to seem impossible. Sometimes communication becomes fuzzy, and my ideas are jagged instead of smooth. My goals want to fly out the window.

I had a day where I was pinned to the bed today, and really all weekend was problematic. It sucks. When I get in this shape, I begin to think of all the things I don't deserve because of my burden. I don't want my burden to become someone else's burden. All my "can't"s pile up on my head. I have a quick little pity party. Today I hit a serious low, but something inside drives me to keep trying. I wish I knew what it was because I'd use the fuck out of it every day to pep things up. If only I could bottle it and drink it!

I thought about how, in the movies, this is the point where the heroine finds a way to persevere. This is where her wit kicks in. This is where she busts ass and comes out on top. I'm gonna do that. Well, I want so badly to do that. I want people to see me & say, "I can't believe she made it." I just have no fucking clue where to begin. So for now, I'm trying not to panic. I'm cleaning the house, I'm cleaning my diet, I'm cleaning my attitude. I'm doing breathing exercises for Christ's sake. I'm making room in my schedule for rest. I'm preparing myself to work really hard through some tough shit. And this is the year I win my life back. Because I say so. Because that one undefinable something inside me is impervious to disease and heartbreak. Because my spirit won't let me give up. And for that one undefinable thing that lights up my spirit, I am eternally grateful and able to keep on hoping. Go Team Me!

I know I have the strength to overcome adversity, even though it's sometimes hard to find. I really hope I'll be able to hold on to it. I can't let my "can't"s win. Reality is a bitch. But every bitch has a soft spot somewhere. I'm about to get all up in that. I guess it's just harder when you aren't sure what exactly you're up against.

Listening:
Wanted You More - Lady Antebellum
Numb - Alanis Morisette

Mood:
Kicking ass whilst taking periodic naps.

Thursday
Mar072013

Danger!

I've had a strange new year. While I had planned to jump to action quickly and with tenacious determination, I ended up bringing in the new year like a weak fart. And I'm not particularly a fan of flatulence. I had a flare up of my disease. I should have seen it coming as I ran myself insane trying to get Christmas together for my son and the rest of my family, but I thought this time I was going to be "stronger," as if I could will myself into some sort of Thor-like state of physical power and control. Not so much. But I have learned a few things about myself through this:

1) I AM strong. I have the mental acuity to talk myself through disaster. While I was mostly immobile, drugged up (the legal kind), and in the nearly constant presence of my mother, I neither died nor killed anyone. That's damn near a miracle.

2) I'll never be perfect. Eh, everyone else probably already knew this. I'm just figuring it out. I mean, I'm just now allowing myself to accept this truth. But even though I sometimes feel as though I'm "behind in life," I'm not as old as I feel, I'm not as stupid as I fear, and I've got plenty of time and mistakes left to make, but I have enough wisdom not to fuck absolutely everything up. Everything's gonna be fine.

3) I have choices. My family is kind of ridiculous, and I have the right to choose, um, irridiculousness? Yeah, I made up that word.

4) I shouldn't be scared or envious. There is enough love and happiness and success in the world for everyone to have a piece. Through self-examination and considering the differences between the person I am and the person I want to be, I can see a little more of the "big picture," as they say. I want to become more of a cheerleader for others and less of a selfish machine.

5) I am more open-minded and wisdomous (a Joey word from "Friends") than I thought. Everyone is a little naive for a little while. Experience and understanding is a choice.

So while 2013 started out as a dangerous and slippery and even disappointing miniature journey for me, I feel like I am right where I need to be. I feel calm, at least for the moment. This must be what they call "peace of mind." I have always felt like I had a group of tiny maniacs running through my head, panicking and shouting conflicting directions, like a high-rise on fire. I have had to learn, and continue to learn, that I only have to figure out which of the shouting voices is really mine. My mother's and father's voices, the heroin-chic models sending messages from behind images in all my magazines, my Facebook friends who post photos of themselves in their mini-mansions, the local gals who believe that either Jesus or deer-hunting season rules all, none of these things can influence me if I don't want them to. So the dangerous place I thought I was living in was just temporary. I chose to learn instead of fester. I'm proud of myself for that choice. The other option would have been easier. Maybe I really am a grown-up.

Thanks for reading.


Listening to:
Mystikal - "Danger"
Churchill - "Change"

Mood:
I'm so buying a Mac after this heart attack Windows just gave me.