One is the lonliest number

Sometimes the best people in our lives make us feel the worst.  This has been the case today with my Dad.  It’s no surprise, really.  He’s a jerk sometimes… a lot of the time.  You would think that someone who recently was given a new chance at life would be a more pleasant person… kinder, gentler, more understanding.  In some ways, I think he’s more of a meanie than before.  He’s been emotionally abusive for as long as I can remember.  That doesn’t make it easier to hear.  And hear it I do because some part of me makes me sit there because I feel I deserve to be treated that way.  After all, I am many of the things he says I am as he’s yelling and throwing a fit.  If some of the things he’s saying are true I need to hear them, right?  Because if I hear them… maybe I’ll eventually be inspired to change them.  Of course, I never am.  I just sit and cry, sometimes I argue back but it doesn’t do any good.. he doesn’t hear me, he doesn’t care.  It’s conflicting to be so angry and hurt and mad at him while being so grateful he’s around.  He brings me (and my mom) such misery each day with his tirades and his vicisous tongue that we relish any time spent away from him.  I hate that.  I don’t want to be joyful at his absence after having spent so may nights crying because I thought it might become permanent (crying alone, by the way, because through the whole time I thought my dad was going to die I had noone to cry to).  Tonight he called me a bitch and a lardass.  I suppose I can’t argue with the latter seeing as how I’m the heaviest I’ve ever been, but am I a bitch?  Becca still hasn’t replied to my calls, letter, or messages… maybe that’s why.  I’m already depressed.  I have been since I found out I had to get a new therapist.  I wasn’t in a hurry to find a new and I still haven’t and so that along with other things has been dragging me down.  One of the biggest factors in my depression is the silence from Becca.  It breaks my heart every day.  Every day I pray for her and Chris and their soon to be baby boy and each day I pray we’re brought back together, but will it heal the pain?  I don’t know.  It’s been so long that it feels like should she ever want to contact me again it won’t be the same… and that sucks.  Of course, that’s hypothetical.  I’m still operating under the assumption that the reason for her silence was the blog I wrote where I was manic and just out of the hospital and I was hurting and I wanted to talk to her so badly.  Anyway, all of that doesn’t matter.  Another big reason for my depression is that I can’t seem to stop loving Melvin no matter what I do.  Of course, I don’t want to stop loving him and that probably has a lot to do with it…. I want to marry that boy and I have for five years.  My heart doesn’t seem to understand we’re not dating anymore.  Of course, perhaps it would be easier to move on if Melvin weren’t my only friend who actually calls me.  We could take a break and I could try to move on but I would only be depressed because then I really wouldn’t have anyone to talk with.  We’re nearing Thanksgiving and all I can think of are reasons to stay in bed and be depressed.  I don’t want to do anything while at the same time I want to do everything.  I want to be with friends who love me playing games and having a good time.  But those days are gone.  Just a memory as are the people I thought I’d chat with forever.  The two happiest times in my life are gone and all I’m left with are the bittersweet memories of days gone by.  I’m too afraid to really get out of the house and try to have a life again.  So I guess I’ll remain stuck here in this place of pain and despair remembering the happy times but never feeling that way again.  Oh, and of course there’s the bright points when my dad is yelling at me for something that I had nothing to do with.

Heavy and burdened

Thirty minutes ago I had so much to write about and now I can’t form complete thoughts enough to get it all out of my head and onto the blog.  I wanted to write about the good news we received from Daddy’s Lung Transplant doctor yesterday, the increase of Daddy’s mood changes/ hostility/ anger, my frustration with dealing with Daddy’s ill temperaments, my sadness that Thursday will be the last session with my therapist because my insurance is changing and she will no longer be a provider, and my joy at seeing Whip It at the theater last week.  As it happens I guess I summed everthing up fairly well without going into detail as I so love to do.  I feel the need to write, however, because I read a blog earlier this evening that turned out to have an act of cutting in it and I’ve been thinking about cutting since then.  It’s not that I particularly want to cut, it’s more of the idea of doing it that is haunting me.  I’m associating it with feeling better and relieved which would be an improvement over my current emotional state which feels heavy and burdened.  I feel burdened because of my Dad’s ill feelings for my Mom right now… they are such that he is going to sleep on the couch to avoid her.  This has NEVER happened before in all of my years.  Their disagreement was minor, but he got so incensed and grew so very angry and accused her of lying and so many things she left, which only made him angrier.  I feel burdened because I haven’t spoken to my best friend in over a year and I really want to I just can’t seem to get up the nerve to try to call her again after the times I tried to call her this summer and didn’t receive a call back…. I don’t know, maybe I should take a hint.  And that’s what I did this summer, I wrote it off and assumed she didn’t want anything to do with me.  I figured I didn’t have a best friend anymore…. but that doesn’t make me miss her any less.  My heart is heavy because last week my city lost another young child to violence, her body being found in a landfill a few days after her disappearance.  Her memorial service was held today.  My Mom held my hand as the news station showed the ceremonial balloon send off and kept repeating ” That could have been you. “  I guess it could have, had things gone a different way.  Sometimes, I wish they had.  I know life isn’t supposed to be easy, and everyone has trials and hardships, but sometimes… I really would have rather not gone through all the junk in the first place.  I don’t care what people say, I don’t feel any smarter, braver, or special because of my past experiences.  The abuse emotionally and sexually, the depression, the cutting, the suicide attempts, all of it don’t make me feel any better of a person than I could have been otherwise.  I can’t say for sure, but the only thing that’s probably had any impact on what type of person I am is my weight.  I can probably say in certainty that had I not been overweight my whole life I probably wouldn’t be so compassionate now…. but then again, I don’t know for sure.  I wouldn’t be so self conscious, I don’t think, either.

Anyway, that’s all a lot of nothing.  I”m going to go now…. Goodnight.

The Motions

The Motions
Matthew West

This might hurt, it’s not safe
But I know that I’ve gotta make a change
I don’t care if I break,
At least I’ll be feeling something
‘Cause just okay is not enough
Help me fight through the nothingness of life

I don’t wanna go through the motions
I don’t wanna go one more day without
Your all consuming passion inside of me
I don’t wanna spend my whole life asking,
“What if I had given everything, instead of going through the motions?”

No regrets, not this time
I’m gonna let my heart defeat my mind
Let Your love make me whole
I think I’m finally feeling something
‘Cause just okay is not enough
Help me fight through the nothingness of this life
‘Cause I don’t wanna go through the motions

I don’t wanna go one more day without
Your all consuming passion inside of me
I don’t wanna spend my whole life asking,
“What if I had given everything, instead of going through the motions?”
take me all the way (take me all the way) take me all the way
(’cause I don’t wanna go through the motions) take me all the way
(I know I’m finally feeling something real)
take me all the way
I don’t wanna go through the motions
I don’t wanna go one more day without
Your all consuming passion inside of me
I don’t wanna spend my whole life asking,
“What if I had given everything, instead of going through the motions?”
I don’t wanna go through the motions
I don’t wanna go one more day without
Your all consuming passion inside of me
I don’t wanna spend my whole life asking,
“What if I had given everything, instead of going through the motions?”
take me all the way (take me all the way)
take me all the way (I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna go)
take me all the way (through the motions)
take me all the way I don’t wanna go through the motions

 

music video url

Firstly, Secondly, Lastly, and Thirdly

Hooray for our Incredible God!  Daddy is doing SO much better today.  He still has some way to go, especially in the mood department, but his physical recovery is higly encouraging.  I’m amazed at how much easier he’s moving than last week…. heck, who am I kidding, I’m still amazed he’s moving!  He’s able to arrange himself in bed now by scooting up when he needs to, he can reach the buttons if he needs to adjust the bed or call the nurse, he’s able to move his legs and sit on the side of the bed all by himself, and now he’s able to stand up with little to no help from someone else (we’re still being cautious, however, and there is always a person on each side just in case,though.).  Today he even walked with assistance of a walker and Mama to the restroom.  That’s the first time he’s been able to do that.  Such a small thing, to be able to use a toilet, but such a great accomplishment when you’ve been laying around for four months.  I realized today that it’s almost been three months since his lung transplant surgery.  So much has happened, and I praise God for where Daddy is now in his recovery.

My sister is coming for a visit very soon.  I am very excited to see her.  I think she’ll be here in eleven days.  Yay for sisters!  I miss my sister all the time, she’s great to have around.  I wish she lived closer.  Someone asked me recently where I’d like to live preferably.  I don’t really know the answer to that.  I would love to live in Alabama so I can be around the great people I know there, but I’d also love to be out in Texas with her.  Of course, right now, I am just thankful to be here in Florida with Mama and Daddy.  Mama needs all the help she can get with Dad.  I haven’t really been that much help, to be honest, though.  I’ve been really depressed throughout this whole thing, but I’ve tried and I’ve made some impact on easing her burden, I hope. 

I need to go to the computer/hardware store and to the crafts store soon… well, tomorrow would be good actually.  I’ve been needing to go to the computer and hardware store all month, actually.  I went earlier this month and got what I needed only to find it the very next day in our laundry room.  I was so mad, but amused at the same time.  I also wanted to drop off my stereo, I’ve been lugging it around for a few years planning to take it to get fixed and never have.  I really like this particular cd player because of it’s appearance, I’ll admit it, I love it because of the way it looks.  It’s retro blue and looks similar to an old timey stereo.  Daddy bought it for me years ago and I sort of dropped it not long after that while living in the revolving door apartment.  It was sad times, I tell you.  You know, I think my Barlow Girl cd is still in there, ha ha.  I want to go to the craft store to buy supplies to make a blocking board.  I have some squares that need to measure 6″ and I want to spray block them with water to the appropriate size before mailing them off.  Should I wash and dry them first?  I don’t know….  I haven’t read anything about that, though.  I could just use my mattress and masking tape, I guess…. but I’d really rather make one that I can use again without having unmake my bed in the process.

Mama found an old quilt today that her grandmother made.  Mom has been holding onto it for years because she’s not sure what to do with it.  She apparently made the mistake of washing it once.  It’s now quite ragged and torn.  It also has some water stains from being in the way of a recent leak.  I’m going to look it over to see if there’s anything worth saving.  I’m hoping that one full square will be stain and tear free so I can frame it for Mama.  If that’s not possible, I have some other ideas, but they all depend on the fabric.  It’s very old, very delicate, and I’m kind of scared to work with it too much so whatever I do will need to be done correctly the first time.

Well, I guess that about wraps up this issue of my blog.  Until next time…

Current Events

I feel pressured to come up with a title for this blog right now because the title bar is at the top.  Why do they put it at the top?  I don’t even know what I’m going to be writing about so how can I possibly affix a title to it?  This is a lot of pressure.  It’s not as horrible as some where I can feel it tightening my stomach into thousands of knots and feel heat rise up in me until I’m unable to think clearly but, it’s significant enough for me to consider not writing anything at all and going on to a safter activity like coloring in my new Lisa Frank coloring book. 

I get the feeling of being pressured a lot.  It mainly comes from nonsensical things like what to eat for dinner, should I do laundry or empty the dishwasher first, decorating my room (all the photos, posters, and the like are just stashed about the room waiting to be put on the wall), or which shoes to wear.  I guess it’s all part of the BPD or maybe a bit of my PTSD, I don’t know… either way it’s just another one of my many stupid foibles that I can’t seem to escape from no matter how many meds I try or how many therapy sessions I sit through.  At times, the pressure to do something makes me nervous and jittery, it can make me feel anxious and dizzy, and I’ve not yet figured out a good way to predict when I will feel pressure.  (Was that a run-on sentence?  I couldn’t think of a third double example so I went with a complete sentence instead.. I guess it is a run-on, but I put a comma there so maybe that helps?  No, probably not.  Oh well, I’m leaving it in there.)  As a result of the not knowing when it’s going to happen, I am frequently in inconvenient locations to have a minor freak out.  The pressured feeling will often lead to panic attacks if I can’t find a way to calm myself in the first few minutes.  Panic attacks jumping off from the nervous, anxious, dizzying sensations and really exploding into a quickening heartrate and the occassional black out as my mind shuts off to stop the madness. 

I’ve been feeling very emotional lately as Daddy’s medical problems get worse, lessen in gravity and give us hope, only to increase in seriousness a few days later.  After his open heart surgery, he started feeling full all the time.  As a result he’s not been eating much of anything since that day.  A few days after his surgery they gave him his feeding tube back, choosing to run it only at night in hopes that he would partake of some solid food during the day.  He never quite graduated to eating even a quarter of a meal, but he was drinking soups and glucerna shakes at regular intervals.  The doctors considered this progress and decided that with his good involvment with physical therapy (he was able to stand with help from a person on either side holding his arm, and was able to walk for a bit with his walker) he was ready to be transferred to the rehabilitation hospital.  Now, in my uneducated opinion, a person still not eating enough to garner most of their required daily nutrients and still on tube feeding is not ready to be taken out of the medical hospital and placed into a primarily rehabilitation facility; but that’s just my opinion.  Daddy arrived on Thursday, August 6 to Brooks Rehabilitation Hospital, a mere 2 months and 10 days after his bilateral lung transplant surgery and about three to four weeks after open heart surgery.  Dad refused PT at Mayo on the previous Wednesday, Dad spent all of Thursday preparing for his transport and therefore did not receive PT on that day.  At Brooks on Friday, PT and Occupational Therapy came in to do evaluations with Dad.  PT stood him up and sat him back down, both asked a lot of questions.  Saturday and Sunday Daddy was not on the list for PT nor OT because he was a new patient.  That was basically five movement free days.  On Monday the 10th Daddy was scheduled for 22 tests at Mayo and was picked up early in the morning and transferred to the hospital.  Brooks had brought Daddy a wheelchair and that was his seat for the ride to Mayo.  Whether it was the roads or the wheelchair being strapped to the van or poor shocks in the van, Daddy had a very bumpy and uncomfortable ride back to Mayo Clinic.  I don’t know at what point his pain began, but very early on in the day he started complaining of intense back pain.  There was a lot of waiting to do and Mama kept trying to get a nurse to grab some pain meds for his back, but due to the nature of the tests and his not having been seen by the doctor, he wasn’t able to get any medication.  A bit later he needed to use the restroom and after a while Mama was able to get someone’s attention to alert them to this fact.  As I mentioned before, Daddy is not able to get up on his own nor is he able to walk without aid, and he had not done so in five days.  One of Daddy’s pulmonary doctors, Dr. Alvarez, a very nice and comforting man came to help along with the physician’s assistant, Melanie.  The two of them were able to witness first hand Daddy’s weakness and his pain level.  Immediately after Daddy’s bathroom break, Dr. Alvarez began the paperwork to admit Daddy back to the Mayo Clinic on account of his weakness.

It is now five days later.  Daddy is still in quite a bit of back pain, but is on a lot of medicine to help combat that.  The MRIs and XRAYs didn’t reveal a conclusive reason for his back pain.  They did reveal some fractures that were anywhere from 3 to 6 months old and a hip problem called avascularnecrosis.  The treatment for the hip problem is a hip replacement and there is not a treatment for the fractures.  The hip problem is more than likely not the cause of Daddy’s back pain seeing as how they aren’t all that close together.  He is also not strong enough to go through another surgery at this time, nor could he stand the necessary physical therapy needed for a hip replacement.  Daddy has only been out of bed five or six times in the last five days, and he’s only walked three or four.  The doctor’s are concerned about many things, one of which is pnemonia… an illness he would more than likely not recover from should he get it.  The feeding tube in his nose is gone and has been replaced with one in his side that is more permanent and can last up to six months.  I really hope he’s eating full meals way before then.  For some reason no one has been able to explain to me, Daddy is still getting a small amount of oxygen via a nasal cannula.  His sats are frequently in the low 90’s, but why?  The only answer I get is that some patients will “sometimes still need oxygen”. 

His back pain medicines are very strong and yesterday he was in a constant state of half asleep.  He would be able to wake up and tell you real time events, but at the same time he could also relate his dreams as fact.  Everything was muddied for him, and it was very hard to witness.  I know realistically that the craziness was just his meds talking, but I worry because his father went a little crazy before he died.  I worry that some part of Daddy is starting to go down the same path his dad did.  Granddaddy Ben was an alcoholic all his life and towards the end thought everyone was trying to poison him and he simply wouldn’t eat something someone brought to him.  Of course, he wouldn’t eat much else either.  Dad told me once he thinks that was the cause of his death.  I don’t know, I wasn’t born then, and I can’t get my mother to talk about it at all.  I guess it was traumatic for her because she refuses any mention of it when I try to compare the events.  Daddy’s not an alcoholic everyday anymore, he quit his ’serious’ drinking before I was born in 1982, but over the past nine years he has began drinking again and been drunk quite a few times.  I don’t know if any of this is related, but I worry that it is.  I look at my Uncle Cecil, who is eleven years older than my dad, and I wonder if he’s going to experience the same thing too.  He’s already a bit batty, but at 76 that’s to be expected.

I process all of this in the only way that I can, and that’s probably not the best way out there.  I try not to think about it.  I live it, I experience it when I’m at the hospital, but when I’m not there I just pretend Daddy is off doing something else.  When I’m at home and Mama is at the hospital, I completely shut down… I don’t think about it as much as possible… I try to pretend it isn’t happening.. I ignore it until I have to deal with while I’m with him in his hospital room where I have to pretend that I’m cheerful and hopeful and that he’s going to be okay and will eventually get to come home.  When he’s up for it we play cards or watch Wheel of Fortune and SYFY.  I watch the clock to see how long it’s been since his last sip of milk or glucerna, I try to coerce him into drinking as much of the protein packed drinks that he can and I offer him yogurt, applesauce, and cream of chicken soup.  I go into the bathroom down the hall to cry when it gets to be too much.  I chit chat with the nurses and we talk about his bosa wood projects we’ll work on when he gets home.  But the whole time I’m just a scared little girl praying these aren’t the last days I have to spend with my father.

My depression is far from being under control as I deal with what’s going on with Daddy, how his health status is constantly changing; what’s going on in my own heart as I continue to do battle with my soul as a result of my anger at God for the many things I feel like He’s wronged me for, even though I know better; as I deal with my irrational fear of going out in public alone and my confusion for still dealing with this issue; as I deal with my weight issues as they have grown out of my clothing and deeper into guilt for not having self control; as I deal with my growing apathy at doing anything productive without having been asked; and as I deal with the feeling of feeling friendless because I don’t have anyone to call friend out here and the friends I do have are miles away in another state dealing with their lives and having very little to no contact with me; then there’s the one person I called about once a day for ten or twelve days just hoping to catch or get a call back and never did… I guess it’s possible all those calls were somehow missed; and then there’s Melvin with whom I want to talk to the most and share all of this with, but when we finally are able to talk once a week I just can’t bring myself to bring down the joy of the moment with my reality and pain. 

Even during my anger at Him, God is still very active in my life and I can see it every day.  He has introduced me to an online friend with whom I chat frequently about my day, his day, and life in general.  God has brought a dear friend to me via Ravelry who lives in Austraila and is going through very similar circumstances with her own father, although… sad to say, her dear Papa isn’t doing nearly as well as my own and that’s saying quite a lot… good to know, however is that he is a believer whereas my Dad still refuses to say.  These two people are very much welcome and needed right now.  I am very thankful to have them for support and friendship while I feel so frequently everything is falling apart around me.  God is also using facebook to help motivate me and make me think about Him via many posts and status messages of old friends I don’t really even talk to.  I was also given the opportunity to read The Christmas Sweater by Glenn Beck today.  In it I found many truths of God’s love and goodness.  Even though my anger at Him makes me want to ignore these truths, I cannot, it may not solve everything that’s wrong right away but these are building blocks for a possible future free from anger.  I can’t say that I see such a future at the moment.  I can’t say that I feel hopeful for the future or that I feel anything positive for the present.  But I do see the things that are happening and I can’t help but take wonder in the fact that it’s possible some goodness will happen eventually.

pretty sure i can’t breathe

Daddy’s open heart surgery is scheduled for tomorrow morning.  They are going to fix the open flap in his heart.  The idiotic insurance company wouldn’t approve the much safer procedure to fix this problem.  The doctor’s seem to think Dad is strong enough to make it through this, that must be a good sign, right?  I mean, they wouldn’t crack open his chest so soon after closing it if they thought there was going to be a large risk.  Right?  I mean, of course there is some risk, there always is… but it’s not too great, I hope.  Oh, gosh, I can’t handle this.  I’m freaking out about it. 
I was sitting a the kitchen table hoping to learn more about the operation from mama, but I just kept bursting into tears and couldn’t concentrate.  Then she displayed her fine parenting skills when she put her hand on my wrist and told me to stop crying because it was upsetting her.  God forbid I have some emotion I want to express… not that I was able to really control it anyway.  I usually don’t show her emotion at all, she’s too crappy of a responder for me to allow her in.  I jerked away from her and came in the bedroom where I cried frantically for a long time and tried in vain to yet again get Melvin on the phone.  I knew he wouldn’t answer, but I just needed to try.  Why does God hate me so much that He puts the one person I turn to for anything and everything so far away and make him so busy all of the time?  I know I’ve said this before, but I would rather not have him in my life at all than have him, be so attached to him, and have him be so unattainable all of the time.  I made a promise to myself and God a long time ago not to date.  I didn’t want to.  I wanted to meet my husband, become friends, and slide into a courtship and get married.  There is no way I would have started that with Melvin had I not believed it would lead to marriage.  Gosh, I’m so stupid.
Kristi is having surgery tomorrow afternoon.  Eric and I spoke on the phone a little while ago and we decided not to tell her about Daddy’s surgery until after her’s is over with.  She’s too freaked out about going in for her minor outpatient not life threatening not a big deal procedure to have to worry about Daddy’s big one.  Kristi is seriously afraid of dying tomorrow.  All things medical freak her out greatly.  She had a bad experience at the hospital when she was a kid and it’s given her some PTSD.

flay me alive

I think my new medicine is working… I think…. maybe, I don’t know.  I still feel very depressed.  Although right now I don’t really know what to make of what I’m feeling.  It’s more of a mixture between longing to have energy and longing to be done with it all.  I actually found myself begging God to give me a heart attack today. 

I feel so alone all of the time.  I don’t have anyone to talk to, and I won’t be seeing my therapist until the 29th.  My mom actually offered to listen to me today.  I showed great restraint by not laughing in her face.  Of all the people to talk to, my mom is one of th worst.  Not that I would probably talk to her if she were a good listener anyway, I don’t know how to say things in the way that makes sense.  That and it’s embarrassing.  It’s embarrassing to sit down across from someone and try to explain feeling empty and dead and hollow and hopeless and completely terrible.  I don’t know how to explain it.  I don’t have any energy.  I don’t have any desire.  I want and I want and I want so many things that may or may not be attainable, but I don’t have any desire or gumption to go after them.  I feel guilty and embarrassed and disgusting and greedy a million times a day because of my weight, but I don’t have the energy to care to change it.  Oh, I try little things like I’m only buying healthier foods so I’m watching what I eat and not allowing brownies and candy in the house, when I can help it… I came home from the hospital the other night and mom had made a pan of brownies, I can resist buying them, but if they’re staring me in the face my resistance isn’t so good.  I’m so heavy now that I’m embarrassed by myself.  A lot of my not wanting to go to church or go to the knitting group or even go shopping is because I’m so embarrassed by my weight.  I’m crying now just because I don’t have the necessary desire or want to change.  I don’t have that thing that propels people toward greatness and success, I never have.  It goes beyond laziness.  I’m so ashamed of myself.  I hate myself that I’ve struggled with this for my whole life.  I’m serious when I say that I don’t want to leave the house because of my weight.  Sometimes, I go through depressive episodes where I don’t want to leave the ohuse because I don’t have any energy to shower or get out of bed or because I don’t feel safe, but this time it’s purely because I’m embarrassed about my fattness. 
I’m also depressed.  Being upset about my weight isn’t the only thing bothering me right now.  The family that was living with us left on Tuesday and the only thing I asked Kat before she left was to please retrieve my sewing machine out of the attic where she put it.  I started asking her this at the beginning of the month.  She never did.  I went up to the attic yesterday and my sewing machine wasn’t there, neither was my television.  I think they pawned it.  I feel so violated and vulnerable… well, not so much vulnerable anymore, I mean they are gone, but I do feel violated.  I can’t believe they would break our trust like that.  I know that they have pawned some of our stuff before, but I think they had always asked permission first.  Mom always said yes for some reason.  They pawned our vcr and dvd player from the living room and the vcr that was returned to us doesn’t belong to us and the dvd player mysteriously disappeared.  We opened our home and our lives to these people and they stole from us.  I feel very raw and like I’ll never be able to trust someone again.  I’m hurt, angry.
I’m also hurting because I thought I had friends, turns out I was mistaken.  I am as much to blame for the ending of my friendships as they are, but when you call someone 8 or 9 times and never receive a call back it hurts.  I’m thinking about deleting all of my social networking accounts.  I only created them as a way to keep in touch with my friends and I just don’t feel like I have any reason to do that anymore.  I don’t feel like anyone cares about me so why should I continue to care about them?  Maybe my life was meant to be empty…. that’s certainly how it’s turned out.  I never thought about the future.  I did once, I thought about getting married and starting a family.  That didn’t work out and I’ve never healed.  I don’t think I ever will and that’s one of the reasons I would rather just be dead.  There’s too much pain and suffering here.  I”m tired of it.  I’m tired of it in my life, of waking up everyday and realizing that the fairy tale I started turned into a rotten pumpkin.  I’m tired of turning ont he news and hearing about the death and abuse and pain and disease.  I really would rather be dead forever with no afterlife just gone than live this way.  I don’t have any goals, why set myself up for disappointment?  I had a great plan… the first actual life plan I’d ever put time into creating… praying over, fasting over, putting time and effort into.  It didn’t happen, it just ripped my soul apart…. flay me alive, it’ll be less painful than this.

medication withdrawals suck

So, I’ve been on the withdrawal train for a little while now and I must say that I’m anxiously anticipating my stop.  Too bad it’s unknown.

I have the most hopeless, useless, completely worthless feeling.  Where this is actually a normal run of the mill everyday kind of thought it has become an all consuming fear that my life is worth nothing and the pain and weirdness I feel are simply given to prepare me for my eternal damnation which is sure to come any day now.  If some one so much as attempts to respond with Biblical knowledge of why this is not a fact, I will hunt you down and smack you in the face.  This is not the time for facts, no matter how wonderful they may seem I only view them as lies and desparately want to cut myself when I think of how great God is and how much hell He is putting me through at the moment.  I don’t care that it’s momentary.  It doesn’t feel momentary.  I would much rather be dead than feel this, thank you.  I don’t care what good may come from this in the future.  I would rather not feel it at all.  I don’t truly believe any good will ever come from all this shit anyway.  I’ve been living with depression for 15 years now.  I’ve been cutting for 14 years.  And it doesn’t matter how long I go without bad days or how long I go without bleeding it always comes back because my life is worthless and is meant for the pain and misery.  I suppose I shouldn’t have lived as an infant anyway.  I was over a month early with jaundice, I should have died.  The EMT turned me upside down in my incubater while transporting me from East End Memorial Hospital to St. Vincent’s hospital…. interestingly enough it is because of this that my father believes me to be emotionally retarded and has told me point blank that I have brain damage and will probably never live a productive life and it’s because of the EMT person.  Whatever, I probably do have brain damage… amybe it’s the reason for the chemical imbalance in my brain that doesn’t produce enough serotonin.  By the way to the guy in college who made the comment that people with depression are lazyy and have nothing wrong with them because God is greater than saddness… I know you apologized to me a few days later, but I still think about that and I still wonder if you’re right.  If I only am lazy and can’t get the energy up to force myself to feel happy or normal or whatever it is that most people feel that allow them to live everyday lives.  and then there’s the molestation… penetration would have killed me you were momnets away from my edeath you kille dmy innocence anyway why not kill my phsyically?  you shoudl have you dirty rotten jerk.  and today its all worse because i can’t watch televeision without seeing a memorial for a man who slept with children… whatever that meant literally for him.  i hate it, it’s nightmares and recollections and pain and fear and i’m six years old in a closet trying hide from it, And Becca for the love of God if you don’t want to ever fucking call me back again don’t I don’t care I’m over it. I’m over our friendship if you can even be friends with someone who will not call you back i don’t care if you are pregnant you’ve never called me back even before you got pregnant.  i’ll be resentful of the time you are able to manage to spend with people while not calling me back for the rest of my life no matter how many times I tell myself I love you adn I don’t care that you can’t manage to call me back you my bestest friend ever and I’m sure as my bestest friend ever you are already aware of the fact that I was hospitalized last weekend because I wanted to kill myself and my cousin made it to me before I could find my stupid sleeping pills.  as my bestest buddy ever you are aware of all that and have called me to tell me you are pryaing for me and you love me and you really do care about me as you spend your free time doing whatever else you can that doens’t involve calling your bessteest buddie ever. .. whatever i’m over it, don’t call me ever again.  i’ll drown in the tears i’ve cried over you. and as my bestedst buddy ever you’ll get the suicide note.  to the stupid doctor at the hospital last weekend who saw me for ten minutes two days in a row and decided that i wasn’t a danger to myself or others and was a bigger egohead than i’ve ever seen  you need to get some more insight on the human condition and how easily someone wiht borderline personality disorder can manipulate you.  ie if someoen keeps saying yeah yeah you’re so right, i know.. they probably mean i’ll agree with you if youll let me go home.  man, you really ere easy to play.  you’re head is so big tyhat i’m amazed you don’t fall over when you stand.  okay i’m bored with this now.

let me talk a bit about some of the physical symptoms i’m experienceing.  every five or ten minutes or so i get what feels like a shcok or a squeeze or something in my brain that causes me to jerk my head and close my eyes. it lasts for a very short amount of time and i would be concerned if i actually cared at this point what happened to me… at this point i don’t care. i don’t care about how other people.. all four of them would be affected by my death or comatose state.  i don’t care.  let it come.  let it come.  i don’t care.  i don’t care so much that i’m not going to actually do anything toward that end.  i’m lazy i admit it.  id on’t care.  i havebn’t showered in days ebcause i don’t care. i don’t care i haven’t a care in the owrld only boredom because nothing is interesting to me and pain… gut wrenching pain.  i can’t describe the pain i feel .   so much of this could be cured .  but the only way i know or think or want is not possible.  the only person who answers me with semi intelligent answerrs the only person who can tell when i want to be touched and wehn i don’t the only person who doesn’t burst into tears and tell me about how terrible i am making them ffeel by sharing my pain is too far away.  he’s always too far away. when i feel this way all i want is to be held and told that nothing is gong to hurt me that i’m safe and worthwhiel and loved more than anything.  God has a terrible sense of humor.  it’s twisted and cruel and i’m fairly certain He will rejoice if i give in to this pain and end it all.

I’ve got the grumps

Is it possible to experience medication withdrawal in two days?  Wednesday night I stopped taking my meds, via the doctor’s orders, so my system is missing two morning doses and two night doses.  This morning I was all about the grumps.  It started because I wasn’t ready to wake up when I first woke up.  It continued when I was drying off from the shower and mom kept asking me when I’d be finished in the bathroom.  It tapered off after I spent some time alone this afternoon.  However, something tells me the grumps are just waiting in the wings for someone to ask me a ridiculous question so the grumps can fest upon the annoyance. 

Today I paid my rent and board, ha ha.  Well, not so much my board, but my rent most definitely.  I also went a little nuts shopping for some ‘fun in the sun’ trinkets for an envelope swap I’m in on Ravlery.  I went ahead and purchased two skeins of purple yarn for baby blanket squares I’m contributing for a friend’s surprise baby blanket… also a Ravelry project.  AND I made the decision to go ahead start stocking up on fun colored duct/ duck tape for a fun chair project I found in the Big Ass Book of Crafts book, fantastic book by the way.  I did make a small purchase that didn’t correllate to an upcoming known project, but once I saw it I couldn’t help myself.  In fact, I am surprised that I didn’t buy more than the two.  They are two flapper buttons.  What I mean by this is that they are two shank backed buttons with the face and haircut of a flapper girl on them, outlined in red.  They caught my eye and music played.  I don’t know what I’m going to use them for, but rest assured that a project will come up in which I will need two flapperish buttons.  I left the craft store 35 dollars poorer.

OOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOO The new Harry Potter trailer is on!  I can’t wait to see Jenny and Harry.  I so love that part of the story… not so much the weird emotional ending, but it makes sense… And they eventually marry anyway so it all works out in the end.  I was thrilled when I read the last chapter of book seven.  I don’t have an HP buddy here.  I have Daddy.  He went with me to the last midnight premier, but he’ll be unavailable this time.  I think I’m going to wait until he’s well enough to go out to see the movie.  I think he would like that.  Of course, I could sneak away by myself and see it alone and just not tell him… nah, I’d never be able to keep it a secret.

Today I thought about going back to school again.  I thought that it would be cool if I could learn something to do with computers.  I mean, I would be starting completely from scratch because I don’t so much know anything about computers, but it would be neat.  The biggest problem with deciding on what to take when I go back to school is that everything is interesting to me.  I know what I want to stay away from, but that doesn’t make it any less interesting for me.  I don’t think that I would have the attention span needed to go into the medical field.  I can handle the bleeding and the gore, but I couldn’t handle the death, the pain, or the sticking needles into people part.  I also have such a short attention span that I know in the most stressful moment where all of my attention is needed I would freak out and start singing showtunes while skipping rope to calm myself.  I don’t know many showtunes, but I could probably manage the entire song catalog for the movie Newsies.  Seize the day, Christian Bale.

I’ve spent my online time playing some Vampire Wars on Facebook, updating my Ravlery Bio, journeying through random people’s favorite projects on Ravlery… and subsequently diving into their friend lists and exploring random etsy shops from my pieces of treasure found doing that.  I’ve also had TLC on from one episode of Cake Boss to about five episodes of The Little Couple.  I’ve fallen in love with this couple.  I want to be their friend.  They are awesome people.  Bill is so practical, he cracks me up and makes me long for Melvin and his practicality.  Jen is so sweet and smart and accomplished she makes me want to do more with my life. 

What am I crocheting?  Right now… nothing.  Isn’t that sad to say?  Well, I guess you can’t really say that.  I have some dishcloths in mind, and one started.  I also really want to make a summer hat.  I saw one on Ravelry that I love!  It’s called Radiant sun hat or something like that.  It’s pretty.  It’s a pattern for purchase, but I think I can wing it.  I just need a good picture to work with.  Our printer is messed up at the moment and not printing right.  I tried to print a picture of it, but the printer is just.. yuck!  I can’t figure out what is going wrong, and Daddy’s not able to help long distance.

Well, I need to get going.  Kat is waiting in the kitchen to play cards.  Bye!

Daddy’s Heart

Daddy’s heart isn’t processing oxygen correctly.  He has to have a surgerical procedure where they go in through his leg and insert a plug that will make it to a flap in his heart and help it start working right.  The doctor who performs this operation is at another hospital in the area.  I wasn’t at the hospital when the doctor was explaining this to mama, so I don’t know if it’s a risky procedure or a run of hte mill type thing.  I thankful that there is someone nearby who can help daddy.  It’s just worrisome to be told your father has something wrong with his heart.

I don’t really have anything to blog about.  I just felt like typing.  ladida.