WIIIIIIIINE

Wow, I might have to go back to being an alcoholic just to try this! 

HALLOWEEN, BITCHES!

I had a good nite. Decided to go to Target for some Halloween shopping. It's difficult for me to leave the house (anxiety), but once I was there--surrounded by pumpkins, ghouls, and all manner of Halloween shenanigans--I felt much better. I bought 2 great big pumpkins (they were $5 each!), 2 strings of lights (one purple, one orange), and cobwebs. I already had some decorations out front, but tonite I added the final touch with these spooky goodies, and boy, does it look lovely! October is my month; Halloween is my holiday. I will be cheerful, dammit! Because if I can't be happy during this sweetly, ghastly time of the year, when can I?!

PHOENIX RISING

For every rebirth, first there must be a death.

TOO MUCH, TOO LATE

Now that after 36 years my mother realizes she never gave me support, her over-the-top fawnings are nauseating.

THE FLOWER OF EDEN

I think I've found my writing style: Gothic romance. I think reading Nathaniel Hawthorne has changed my life. I've only just finished "The House of the Seven Gables," but now I need to read more. I think "Twice-Told Tales," which is a collection of short stories, will be next on my list. There is a Vincent Price lead here; had it not been for watching him act in the film "The House of the Seven Gables," I might never had picked up the book. I also enjoyed him in the film version of "Twice-Told Tales" (hence why it is next on my list).

Another style/inspiration for me is L.M. Montgomery, the author of the "Anne of Green Gables" series (I just noticed the gable reference!). Though a bit later than Nathaniel Hawthorne, it's the innocent, wholesome prose that I love about her books. Hawthorne has this too, but in a darker shade. Let me be clear: my stories will not necessarily be Victorian. But the style of my writing will be drawn from that classic, dusty cobweb feel.

I'm getting that passion again--that desire that I had just sworn away but a few hours ago. I don't like these constant and turbulent ups and downs. While I enjoy that I am on a small high at this moment, I dread the inevitable fall that is bound to follow. I would prefer a more constant monotone of stability, no matter how dull. I need calmness more than anything right now.

POETRY?

Like Hansel and Gretel, my words are breadcrumbs that lead to mortality.

WRITE IT TO GET RID OF IT

Step by step and the job is done.

There's a reason you were able to thrive in a vacuum for so long.

SOMEWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW

Someday, I will transcend people.

1ST WORLD PROBLEMS

So now that I voluntarily gave up leadership in my alliance (for an rpg app I play on my phone), the new leader is already arguing with players and threatening to kick people out, and it hasn't even been 24 hours. I regret doing this to the alliance and wish I could go back in time to undue it. I was in a bad mood last nite, hence the abrupt (and poor) decision. Oh, well. That's life--no reset button.

VICTORIAN PROSE & ROSES

I need to read Nathaniel Hawthorn forever.

THE TEARS WON'T WRITE THEMSELVES, HONEY

Standing at the precipice of pure potential or annihilation. A reckoning, if you will, is at hand.

THE MIRRORS TWIST AND DISTORT IN ENDLESS CAVERNS OF ANGUISH

My mother is more psychotic than I ever realized. I'm amazed I've lasted this long.

Perhaps, like Anne Rice, I can take the pain and write it into my characters and stories.

Perhaps.

WHAT HAVE YOU GOT TO LOSE?

Edgar Allen Poe inspired H.P. Lovecraft; H.P. Lovecraft inspired Stephen King.

"Perhaps someday, you will inspire someone." My therapist to me, yesterday. And yes, he's good. And no, I really don't care who is lying to me at this point, or even if they are lying or telling the truth. For the first time in 36 years I am starting to finally believe in myself, and my abilities. And you know what? It feels fucking good, man.

THE MOUNTAINS OF MADNESS

I'm slowly weaning myself off the medical marijuana. I shouldn't have to do this because it is legal in my state of Florida, and it helps me with my PTSD, my night terrors, and my TMJ. But, because of the stigma still associated with marijuana, and the fact that most employers require drug tests for new hires, I have decided I must suffer a little more in my life so that I may get a job. Am I pissed? Hell yeah, you bet I am. This whole ordeal of beating my alcohol addiction (sober for 165 days), and now having to beat my dependence on medical marijuana thanks to a high-level medical company essentially blacklisting me--let's just say I stared into the abyss this week, and it stared back into my soul.

What now? I need to keep moving; like trudging through a snow-capped mountain range in the middle of a blizzard, I have-to-keep-moving-or-I-will-collapse-into-the-soft-powdery-snow-and-never-wake-up-again. The cold can be comforting, but also deceiving. It numbs you--tricks you--into a false sense of safety. But in reality, it's slowly sucking the life-essence out of your exhausted body.

How do I keep moving? Write. It's my one true joy, both therapeutic and cathartic. Also, keep looking for work. This company that rejected me (they don't even have the basic decency to call me on the phone and tell me so) have lost the best coder they could ever hope to find. But that's ok. I will keep looking; I will keep climbing that snowy mountain even if it kills me in the process. That is life: an eternal struggle to fight death.

PLATH

Do you feel safe?

No.

AUTO PILOT

I've lost 18 pounds in 2018.

I've drank 10 days in 2018.

I've been sober for 5 months.

I am being discriminated against in my quest for work because I am on medical marijuana.

I've been prescribed Prozac and Buspirone so I can get off the marijuana.

I'm tired.

APPRAISAL

You should get a nose job.

That lipstick color makes your lips look even thinner than they already are.

You should go to church.

You need to be on medication.

You should stop drinking.

You will always be an alcoholic.

You're an addict.

Are you anorexic?

Are you pregnant?

You have social anxiety.

You're mean just like Grandma Betty was.

You're a drunk just like Grandma Betty.

You'd be a bad mother.

I've never met anyone with anxiety as bad as you.

Calm down.

Don't you want to be happy?

Bisexual is just sick.

God doesn't make mistakes.

You need to have a reason to be depressed.

You should do your nails.

You should see a doctor.

Nobody thinks like you.

The way you think is wrong.

Suicide is selfish.

Stop complaining.

Lots of people have anxiety.

Lots of people have depression.

What's WRONG with you?

WORD DUMP

People often tell me not to worry because I'm smart. I would trade all the intelligence in the world for some coping skills.


I look forward to the eventual deaths of my abusers. But most of all, I look forward to one death: my own.


They use you and abuse you. And then they throw you out like yesterday's trash.


The only thing keeping me alive at this point is my anger.


I've always been so obsessed with death, I didn't have time to live.


Chains of abuse never end.


They took away the one thing I love: alcohol.


The suicide trance is not for the faint of heart.


My love affair with death started when I was eleven.

...

NOW I UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU TRIED TO SAY TO ME

Starry, starry night 
Paint your palette blue and gray 
Look out on a summer's day 
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul 
Shadows on the hills 
Sketch the trees and the daffodils 
Catch the breeze and the winter chills 
In colors on the snowy linen land

Now I understand what you tried to say to me 
And how you suffered for your sanity 
How you tried to set them free 
They would not listen, they did not know how 
Perhaps they'll listen now

Starry, starry night 
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze 
Swirling clouds in violet haze 
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue 
Colors changing hue 
Morning fields of amber grain 
Weathered faces lined in pain 
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand

Now I understand what you tried to say to me 
And how you suffered for your sanity 
And how you tried to set them free 
They would not listen, they did not know how 
Perhaps they'll listen now

For they could not love you 
But still your love was true 
And when no hope was left inside 
On that starry, starry night 
You took your life as lovers often do 
But I could have told you, Vincent 
This world was never meant 
For one as beautiful as you

Starry, starry night 
Portraits hung in empty halls 
Frameless heads on nameless walls 
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget 
Like the strangers that you've met 
The ragged men in ragged clothes 
A silver thorn, a bloody rose 
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow

Now I think I know what you tried to say to me 
And how you suffered for your sanity 
And how you tried to set them free 
They would not listen, they're not listening still 
Perhaps they never will

SHE MIGHT TAKE IT BACK SOMEDAY

In my heart I'm done, but I'll keep pretending for as long as I can...

THE LITTLE BIRDIES KNOW BY NOW

AYE, AYE

What I need to do is get back into reading, exercising, and just general self-care. Yes, I am in a scary reality, but we all are. I'm also enjoying watching the World Cup. There is still a lot of beauty out there, and wonderful things taking place. I can still educate, but I can enjoy my life too. They are not mutually exclusive. Sometimes you have to take a time-out to reevaluate what's important, to re-energize and regroup. Does that mean it's going to be easy? No. But according to this African proverb: Smooth seas do not make skillful sailors.

AND I RAN

I have to realize that people who choose to remain ignorant are lost to me. I will still love them, but I cannot make people believe what is in front of their very eyes. In this age of the internet, there is a lot of information (and disinformation) out there, but everyone has to come to their own conclusions on what is fact and what is fake. For me it is very easy to pick up on pathological liars, cheaters, abusers, and narcissistic megalomaniacs. But just because something is obvious to me, doesn't mean it is that way for others. I just hope it's not too late, once everyone's eyes have finally been opened... and they will be opened.

NOT NORMAL

Mainstream Media Accountability Survey

This is a link in an ad that shows up when I watch youtube videos. If this doesn't reek of North Korea style propaganda bullshit, I don't know what does. Your President is trying to revoke the 1st Amendment and turn America against a free and independent press. Wake the fuck up, sheeple! 

DISTURBING, ALARMING, & CRITICAL

This might be the scariest thing to date (from US Gov website):

Government Reform and Reorg Plan

Summary: privatize, cut, and consolidate power to the Executive Branch. Please read and share. 

IN SOVIET RUSSIA, RED WAVE WASHES OVER YOU! ☭

In other, more fun news: Dump is tweeting about the "Red Wave" coming in November (the #Resistance came up with the "Blue Wave"). I don't know, Spanky--"Red Wave" might not be the best slogan to use when you're under investigation for colluding with Russia. 😂

SHRUG

I'm very close to discontinuing my talk therapy, mainly due to the fact that I can't afford the out-of-pocket fees. Dr. Ben is trying to get on his patients' insurance plans, but it's a process without any guarantee of success. I feel very guilty with the amounts of $$ I am spending, both on therapy and medical marijuana. And in reality, I only feel "relief" for about a few hours after my weekly therapy appointment. While it's helpful, I don't feel it's really doing anything in the long run.

I am barely eating now as my bite is fucked up again after 4+ years of braces. TMJ doc says the arthritis in my joints is causing my jaw to move, so he wants me to get surgery. I've lost 13 lbs in 2018 (yay). Part of it is cutting out the alcohol, my jaw being messed up, and severe anxiety and depression. I still want to lose about 10 more pounds, so I guess I should keep doing what I'm doing. *shrug*

I LIVE BY MY OWN LAW

Someday the screams will stop. 

BUT TELL ME, HOW DO YOU REALLY FEEL?

It's pretty surreal when you're having suicidal thoughts and then the "love of your life" says they want you "out of the house" and "gone." #BeBest

GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!

Fitter, happier, more productive,
comfortable,
not drinking too much,
regular exercise at the gym
(3 days a week),
getting on better with your associate employee contemporaries,
at ease,
eating well
(no more microwave dinners and saturated fats),
a patient better driver,
a safer car
(baby smiling in back seat),
sleeping well
(no bad dreams),
no paranoia,
careful to all animals
(never washing spiders down the plughole),
keep in contact with old friends
(enjoy a drink now and then),
will frequently check credit at (moral) bank (hole in the wall),
favours for favours,
fond but not in love,
charity standing orders,
on Sundays ring road supermarket
(no killing moths or putting boiling water on the ants),
car wash
(also on Sundays),
no longer afraid of the dark or midday shadows
nothing so ridiculously teenage and desperate,
nothing so childish – at a better pace,
slower and more calculated,
no chance of escape,
now self-employed,
concerned (but powerless),
an empowered and informed member of society
(pragmatism not idealism),
will not cry in public,
less chance of illness,
tyres that grip in the wet
(shot of baby strapped in back seat),
a good memory,
still cries at a good film,
still kisses with saliva,
no longer empty and frantic like a cat tied to a stick,
that’s driven into frozen winter shit
(the ability to laugh at weakness),
calm,
fitter,
healthier and more productive
a pig in a cage on antibiotics.

"LET THE LITTLE CHILDREN COME TO ME, AND DO NOT HINDER THEM"

So I'm sure you've seen it splashed all over the news lately: the human rights abuses that are taking place at our Southern border. It seems to me this had been building up over past administrations, but has reached its zenith with the Trump circus.

Sessions's zero-tolerance policy justifies separating families at the border, and for a few reasons. First, it is a fear tactic for others considering fleeing their oppressive countries to seek asylum in the U.S. This is not a new tactic. Slave owners in the south would separate mothers, fathers, and children; they'd be sold to different masters. It would take away the slaves' hope, instill them with fear, and keep them subjugated for generations. The other tactic that Sessions (and slave owners) use is the Bible. By quoting scripture, he and Press Secretary Sarah Huckabee Sanders, have insisted the Bible tells us to obey the laws of government as we obey God. This is one of the many examples of people weaponizing the Bible to meet their personal agenda. It is cruel, wrong, and the opposite of what Jesus spoke of. The other reason the Trump administration is defending this disgusting policy is because they have to appease their base, which consists of Nazis, xenophobes, white nationalists, and your run-of-the-mill racist Americans. Trump himself has been on twitter the last few days, comparing immigrants to an infestation. He claims that Germany's crime is up because of all the immigrants pouring into the country (yet he lists no source for this data, nor can any be found). He's using the same tactics that Hitler used in the 1930s to blame the Jews for all of Germany's problems; with the support of many citizens, the government was able to seize, terrorize, torture, and kill 6 million Jews (not to mention, gypsies, homosexuals, and political enemies). I've read extensively on the Holocaust (I even read all 1,000 pages of "Mein Kampf"). Trump's rhetoric is nothing new, and it's quite scary that these ideas are being championed in 2018 (although not surprising: I could see Trump's racism a million miles away).

So now I want to bring up the Republican/Alt-Right's argument. "Well, they broke the law by entering the U.S. illegally. We're just enforcing the law." You can enforce the law without being cruel. Remember the Presidential debates between Trump and Hillary? Hillary and Tim Kaine warned that Trump would round up immigrants in a violent, abusive way. Trump/Pence insisted that they would only go after "criminal" aliens, such as MS-13 gang members, rapists, and drug dealers. And yet, here we are lumping abused mothers and fathers seeking safety and asylum for their families, in the same category as criminals. This administration has labeled these families as criminals.

I'm reminded of the "Roma" series by Steven Saylor that I read a few years ago. Ancient Rome was an empire of laws. In one scene a slave had killed its master (the master was trying to rape him, if I recall, and he was acting in self defense). The law at the time was to kill *all* the slaves in retaliation, even though only one had committed a crime. The reasoning was, "If we let them get away with it, they'll think they can kill their masters with no problem and there will be a slave uprising." It was discussed with great severity in the Senate. The master who had been killed owned about 400 slaves at the time. Should they really kill all 400 slaves (some of them pregnant mothers, children, and babies)? Why yes, because they had to enforce the law, and what was a nation without laws? But could they really justify killing innocents even if they were property? In the end they crucified all 400 slaves.

So, my question is this: what are we doing? Yes, laws must be enforced, but when a policy goes against the law of *humanity* then something is terribly wrong. Slavery was once the law in this country. So was Jim Crow and segregation. Where do we draw the line with our humanity (or the lack thereof)? Has the line already been crossed to the point of no return? I sure hope not. Not only for America's sake, but for the world's.

MOTHER WAS ALWAYS SEDATED

"Bates Motel" is the psychological roller coaster I wasn't prepared for.

FOR REFERENCE

10 Plant-Based Protein Sources for Vegans

OO-DE-LALLY

?

Motivational quote on my phone app today: "It's always too early to quit." - Bill Cosby. Ok, den. 👀

SHE'S SO FAR ROUND THE BEND, SHE'S BACK HOME ALREADY

I feel a terrible binge coming on... I've been really good this year, only drinking 10 days. As proud as I am of my commitment to sobriety, this weekend has nearly left me for dead, both emotionally and spiritually. I won't get into details here, but I don't think I have the strength to keep holding it together. Sure, I'm on medication, I'm seeing a therapist for my issues, I'm doing my light-therapy every day... but my jaw is almost broken from all my screaming (I've screamed every night this week since Thursday). I'm terrified to go to sleep, afraid of how I'll hurt myself. I'm suicidal. I'm not ashamed to admit it; I've had suicidal ideations since I was 11. I know I will be like this until the day I finally slip off this mortal plane. It's not a matter of if, but of when. It's like: how long can I prolong the inevitable?

So the question that needs to be addressed is: why do I keep fighting when I know the conclusion? Am I dense? Stupid? Delusional? People who commit suicide don't just decide to do it one day at the drop of a hat. No, suicide is something someone like myself thinks about all the time, anytime, anywhere. It's a friend that sits upon my shoulder, haunting me wherever I go. And then when I try to interact in this cruel, tortured world, my little ghoul shimmies and shakes with fervent joy. "Keep going," the voice tells me. "You'll be free and the world will be free once you're gone." A fair bargain if you ask little ol' me.

DATE HERE: LAB RESULT HERE

Forgive me for my transgressions.

WE SHOULD CRAWL UNDER THE BRACKEN

One day it all won't matter. All the screaming (both at night and during the day), all the useless tug and pull that is life, all the tears shed for no one and nothing, all the meaningless words fallen on deaf ears... none of it matters and it never will. We were born to suffer, to maim and be maimed. To jump through hoops of fiery rings--only to land in a swirling pool of lava. We chide ourselves that this is it: to fight and fight and fight and fight and fight and fight and fight and then die. In our minds we make up a fantasy to ward off reality. We escape in books, movies, games, drugs, alcohol, sex, work, religion. But we're zombies; we go to our allocated places of congregation, we portray our allocated roles appropriately and with zeal. But we haven't been aware of what we're doing and saying for millennia. We're hopelessly asleep... and in slumber do we dream... dreams of passion and dreams of horror. Life and death. And then...?

SURREAL COOPER

FILTHY GORGEOUS

June is the official month of LGBTQ Pride. This is a minority group that has a high rate of suicide. Why is this? There are many marginalized minority groups out there, but for some reason the LGBTQ community is one of the hardest hit. In fact, researchers have found that attempted suicide rates and suicidal ideation among lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) youth is comparatively higher than among the general population.

As a bi-sexual woman myself, I feel it is very important that I not only support my community, but also share the truth about what we go through on a daily basis.

I suppose it's good to start at the beginning. When I was a kid growing up, I was very confused about my sexuality. I would get crushes on boys, but I was also attracted to women's bodies. For a very long time I thought there was something severely wrong with myself. I asked my mom about "the gay" and she explained it to me. But I knew I wasn't gay. But was I straight, I asked myself. Not exactly. So for years I stumbled awkwardly through my childhood believing I must be an alien from another planet, and a very broken one at that. It wasn't until I was about 11 years old, when I was reading a magazine discussing the hit single of the time, "Damn I Wish I Was Your Lover" by Sophie B. Hawkins, that a new notion dawned on me. The article talked about how this song alluded to bi-sexuality. Now, mind you, I had never heard of the term bi-sexual. But immediately, when my eyes rolled over that word, I knew the meaning of it and I knew that it was the best label to describe myself. The relief I felt was immeasurable.

But my joy was short-lived. The buzz in the 90s was that gay was a choice, it was a mental disease, it was the fastest ticket to hell. Quite literally, if you're gay, Jesus wants you to kill yourself. Most people I came out to were fine with it, and super supportive. I remember a comment my mom made about bi-sexuality a long time ago: "I understand gay people, but bi? Those people are just sick." She has since changed her viewpoint to one of total embrace and understanding of the whole LGBTQ community (as millions of others have, thankfully). But the fact remains, that millions more still want to eradicate these individuals from the face of the earth (and if they can't, the next best thing is to terrorize them to the point where suicide seems the only viable solution). There are still hate-crimes happening every day, and our current government is doing everything in its power to strip LGBTQ of their rights (thanks, Mike Pence and Co.)

So, on this Pride Month of 2018, I want to send a message to those targeted because of their sexual and/or gender identity (and yay for those super fluid mofos!). Hang in there! You are worth it! Fuck those who aren't in your crew, they are just too high on all their hate and superiority. They are actually insecure, unloved individuals themselves, who feel better when they take their hatred out on the weak and downtrodden. But we are neither of those things. We are humans, with love, fear, insecurities, hopes, and dreams. We want to be accepted by all, but we won't be. And that's ok. It doesn't diminish, in any way, our validity--our humanity. And there's good news. We have a shit-ton of straight allies. Yes, you can be straight and still stand with us. And I'd like to thank these allies, who fight for us even when sometimes we don't have the will to fight. We see you, we appreciate you, and we thank you.

Now, go out there and be fabulous!

BEEEEEEE YOURSELF 🐝

Therapy was lit today! Apparently I don't have to change; I am fine the way I am. Who woulda thunkit?!

ONCE OR TWICE

I'M THE ONLY THING STANDING IN THE WAY OF MYSELF

So I've wanted to be a writer since I was a young child. I began keeping a journal at the age of 7, and started writing short stories soon after. I used to fantasize about the titles of my books: I tried to come up with titles that were dreamy, fairy-like, and ethereal. I remember letting my mom read a passage from one of my short stories, and her critiquing me as if I was an adult (I was a little kid!). Although that deflated me a little, I kept going.

I haven't written anything in years. What happened? Life got in the way, and now when I try to write I do things that make the process almost unbearable. I edit as I write, instead of just writing freely and editing later. This slows down the work and makes it more tedious than it needs to be. I'm obsessive when it comes to proper grammar and sentence structure. As a homeschooler who mainly taught myself, I never had a formal education, so I always doubt my writing skills. When I was in college I had to write a lot of papers, and a few of my professors commented favorably on my writing, one going so far as to suggest I had a great imagination and should take a course in creative writing. But I suffer from impostor syndrome and end up convincing myself I'm a shite writer that will never make it. Also, I have dozens of stories in my head, and I have no idea where to start. I have a very short attention span, and writing a book requires a decent amount of commitment. Sometimes I feel like something horrible has to happen in my personal life in order for me to surrender and write uninhibited. I'd rather just start writing without such a depressing push. I'm just wondering if, like  J. K. Rowling, I have to be motivated by pain and desperation. I'm sure that motivates a lot of authors. Unfortunately, it doesn't always guarantee success. And yet, wise men have urged us to work regardless of the fruit of the labor, but for the work itself. Therein lies the true joy.

PREMONITION?

So I just saw that Margot Kidder, famous for her role as Lois Lane in the Superman movies from the 70s/80s, passed away on Sunday. Something peculiar happened to me either last night or the night before (I can't recall which evening it occurred). I was lying in bed, trying to get to sleep after having some of my medical marijuana. I've been taking stronger doses the past few days to help me sleep better. As I was lying there, my mind started to wander as it does when I am trying to fall asleep. Occasionally the medical marijuana will cause my thoughts to wander even more than usual, and in unexpected ways. So on this night the Superman movies popped in my head: I thought about Christoper Reeve as Superman, and Margot Kidder as Lois Lane. I remembered watching those movies as a kid and was so enthralled with their relationship--how he always made sure she was safe; how he'd swoop down from the sky to rescue her from dangerous situations. I remembered  the chemistry of their kisses. I also thought what a shame it was that Christopher Reeve had died so young and so tragically, and even wondered if "Lois Lane" was still alive.

So it was very eerie seeing her in the news today, and learning of her death. May she rest in peace.

DO NO HARM DAY

Thomasina, Ollie, and Onyx would like to remind everyone that declawing is mutilation and can cause lifelong problems for your cat. Please visit The Paw Project for more info! Thanks for speaking up for cats and kittens everywhere! #DoNoHarmDay #BanDeclawing #MakeItALawDontDeclaw

WE'RE CUTTING OFF THE REINFORCEMENTS, MA'AM

So today's therapy session did not go so great, and not because of the actual therapy, but because my doctor is moving to a different location in 2 months and won't be covered under my insurance. He gave me the heads-up (which I appreciate) so that I could make the necessary adjustments when the time comes: either a) call my insurance to find out if they cover out-of-network (they don't); b) pay $80 per visit (can't afford it); or c) get a new therapist (now when I am finally starting to open up and make a remote semblance of progress). Naturally, this has flung me into my "worry, worry, worry" state, which is completely defeating and depressing. Couple that with the fact that my night terrors have been keeping me in a state of frenzied panic--when instead I should be getting restful sleep--which in turn has caused my TMJ to act up overtime. I'm done, people. I'm done.

FANGIRLING!

Tweeting to Mark Borchardt's radio show tonite, so it must be Monday!

I LIKE TO WATCH IT IN ALL UNIVERSES AND DIMENSIONS

Finally started watching "Rick and Morty." Shit's good, bitch!

OH MY BAD

Parents fuck you up and then get pissy 'cause you're fucked up. Really dudes?

SONDERKOMMANDO

Stayed up til about 3am last night reading a book about the Holocaust, as I couldn't get to sleep due to this cold I'm fighting off. I figured I'm already depressed with everything, might as well do some light reading. Then, when I finally did fall asleep, I dreamt of IG Farben and Zyklon B all night. The humidifier we had going really helped my nightmares come to life with all the hissing jets of mist. Kevin told me I screamed early in the AM (I don't remember). Still another day in paradise.

TRY HARDER

Fear has never worked as a motivator for me. If fear is the sole tactic in getting me to join/believe your cause, you are out of luck. It is why I will never join an organized religion or support Donald J. Trump. Next!

SMILE FOR THE CAMERA!

Update of sorts: I've lost 9.5 lbs in 2018! I've drank 4 days in 2018! I'm feeling ok for the most part. Working on my personal health and happiness. Strangely looking forward to this Thursday...

I'M SIMPLY NOT THERE

SHE DOESN'T KNOW WHO HE IS

We're going to Disney in 2 weeks to take advantage of the Flower and Garden Festival at Epcot. Note: I am planning to get drunk and stay that way for at least 3 weeks. In the interim, medical marijuana is helping me to cope.

My stash, in the form of edibles (sublingual drops). You can hate me now.

At first I hated it because it is certainly different than alcohol. The last time I visited the marijuana store, the lady told me it takes time to figure out what works/find the right combination. She said, "You have to be your own chemist." So I've been easing in with CBD/Hemp oil, then CBD/High THC (small amounts), then toying with my daytime Sativa hybrid, and finally starting to use the Indica I got sick on (taking half the dose now). I've had mixed results, both good and not-so-good, but it *is* keeping me off the booze, which I am eternally grateful for. The less I drink, the better it is. I've been sober all year (64 days)! I've also lost a total of 6 lbs. in the New Year! Despite all these pluses, I am borderline, doom-and-gloom, drowning in fear. But that is my normal state while not partaking. I don't know if I'll ever escape...

Speaking of escaping... listening to this new tune by Smooth McGroove (while the Indica starts to tingle me) is a nice trip...

WEIRD FISHES

"I hit the bottom and escape."

STAY THE COURSE

A lot of good things happening... I just need to hold it together and survive myself.

NEVERMORE

So irreversibly sad.

MIRROR

At the end of the day, you are what you are. #NeverAgain

OH, MATERIA, HOW I'VE MISSED YOU!

I've been sober all year! 😭 The good news is I just downloaded Final Fantasy VII onto my PS4. You know where I'll be tonite! 😃

THANKS FOR NOTHING

YOU give me PTSD.

MEH

Had a good session with Dr. Ben today, although it was a somber one as we discussed the high school shooting in Parkland, and commented on how close it was to home (literally). I really hope something can be done about gun violence in this country; I know there are a lot of crazy gun fanatics here, but even they must be aware of how dangerous and repetitious this is becoming.

I've been taking smaller doses of the medical marijuana, mostly to use it up because I refuse to throw it away. The hybrid I much prefer, but I only bought a half bottle of that one whereas I bought a full bottle of the Indica (just saying that word gives me bad vibes). Too bad I couldn't sell it to someone else, but I know it is illegal to do so. I will eventually buy a prescription of the CBD oil which contains 0.8% of high THC (medical marijuana). For now I am taking my over-the-counter CBD oil with 1-5mg doses of the medical marijuana.

Other than that, not much else to report. I finally got off my butt and sent my resume to a few places online. One already sent out an email to me in the form of a negative. This field is tricky to get into even with certification.

This weekend we're going to the Renaissance festival. I'm trying so hard to lose weight, but what with Superbowl Sunday, Valentine's, and now the festival, I'm finding it very hard to stick to the diet. I've lost 5 lbs so far in the new year, but I have *soooo* much more to go. I also want to drink so badly, but I'm trying to stay sober as much as possible because if I don't I will get even fatter, and I need to fit into my interview suit. Haven't drank in 2018... wanna die.


P.S. There is also a small church carnival down the street from my house I want to go to. I don't want to ride the rides... I want to eat the delicious deep-fried yummies. But I can't because I am on a diet! 😭

P.P.S. What I really want to do is get drunk and watch "Coven" with Onyx. I need a vacation! 😭

MEDICAL UPDATE

Well, update on new therapist and medical marijuana: Loved my first appointment with Dr. Ben, and I overdosed on my first try of medical marijuana! I'll begin with my appointment. I was, of course, very nervous going into it. I brought my light machine to do my light therapy while I spoke with him. I noticed he seemed a bit confused when I put the super futuristic glasses on and explained to him about the lasers and how they change your brain. Upon texting Laura later, I found out that he had never seen a light therapy machine before. It's really funny because I probably looked a little crazy to him, but oh well. We have a lot of work to do, but he seems really cool and his room had some neat decor (lots of African style art, a map of Jurassic Park and a framed score from the soundtrack, space art, a fountain, and a small ceramic wolf, to name a few things). I have another appointment with him next Thursday, and it can't come sooner enough.

Now for the marijuana... shopping for it was an experience in and of itself. We ended up going to 2 dispensaries in Lake Worth. The first one we went to was called Curaleaf. They were extremely busy and disorganized and seemed to know very little about which strain for me to use. Luckily, I had done research online about the different products, so I pretty much knew what I wanted. The doctor had filled me a generous prescription in both vape and oil forms, but not for pills which is what I really wanted. The gentleman at the counter explained to me you can only have 2 types filled at a time, so he advised me to call my doctor and remove the vape prescription (I have no intention of vaping) and change it to a pill prescription. To make a long story short, I purchased 2 types of oils, but I found out the hard way they only take cash, so we had to go on a merry chase to Walgreens and Winn Dixie to look for cashback.We were able to procure $80 of which I bought a 600mg bottle of Indica and a 300mg bottle of a hybrid strain of 10:1 THC (marijuana mixture of Indica/Sativa) and CBD oil. I wasn't too happy with the way I felt rushed, and the fact that the gentleman at the counter seemed to not have any real idea what would be good for PTSD. It was more, "What do you want?" So I went with Indica because I had read it was for nighttime use, and with the hybrid for daytime use (the mixture is supposed to promote relaxation without drowsiness).

Even though I had no more cash, I decided to swing by the other dispensary, Knox Medical, since it was just down the street (they also had rave reviews online--the only reason I hadn't gone to them first was because they don't offer pills, but since I was unable to get pills anyway, I felt a bit defeated). Anyways, their operation was a whole 'nother world: the office was quiet, peaceful, and welcoming. They had soft, hippie music playing in the background (I kid you not!) and white floors with gold sparkles. The girl that took me to the back for the consultation was not rushing me and gave me some good information even though I told her I wasn't buying anything. The thing I found disconcerting was that she seemed about as knowledgeable as the guy from Curaleaf. I was beginning to feel that no one was going to hand me the "magic" bottle, but more that I had to discover it myself through trial and error. Their brochure recommended CBD oil for PTSD, but when I asked the girl she said to try Sativa (Sativa is a day time strain used for energy/to fight depression). Indica (the one I had bought) was a nighttime strain to help with sleeping disorders, so I thought that would help with my night terrors. But she said different strains/combos have different effects on different people. I expressed to her how stressful this was to me, and she assured me that it's very intimidating to most at the beginning. So I went home with the goodies.

Since it was Saturday night, I decided to use the Indica to get feelings of sedation and relaxation. I took my dose, 20mg/2mL, and watched last week's episode of "The X-Files" with Jimmy and Kevin. I didn't feel much of anything during the episode, and was actually slightly disappointed. The dose seemed large enough to me, and it was the amount my doctor had prescribed, which is why I took the whole dropper amount (1mL x 2). The oil stank like marijuana which grossed me out; I had thought they would mask the taste with cherry or mint or anything else pleasing. It didn't taste bad (it was mostly tasteless), but it had a slimy, oily texture. I held it under my tongue for a few minutes as I do my CBD oil. It wasn't until about 2 hours later that it started hitting me: hard. After "The X-Files" Jimmy and I decided to watch an old Italian movie, and halfway into I started feeling fuzzy-like. It was ok at first, just tingly around my mouth, then my nose, then moving up to my forehead. I had a burning sensation in the back of my throat, which was unpleasant, and then the burning started in the pit of my stomach as well. As time moved into the 3rd hour I started to feel worse. I was nauseous with the feeling that I might vomit. The tingling was alternating on different parts of my body. My eyes felt so heavy like bricks were resting on my eyelids. I felt drugged in a bad way. I was able to finish the movie, but just barely.

At this point, I was starting to trip badly. I could barely walk; my legs felt like rubber. The tingling was becoming stronger with waves of nausea. My husband had to help/almost carry me up the stairs. For 2 hours I lay in bed feeling like I was ODing. I've sometimes drank too much, but this was much worse. It was like I had taken 10 shots of whiskey. My body was alternating from floating, tingling, burning, nausea, stomach pain. Kevin talked to me and tried to sooth me, as I started getting really paranoid and began crying. My heart was racing, but my body was so heavy and thick. It was why I remember I never liked marijuana, the few times I had tried it as a teenager. I was out of control, with no idea of where this trip was going or how long it would last. I ended up falling asleep around 2 or 3am, but had a screaming frenzy around 5am. Kevin had to wake me up to snap me out of it. Needless to say, I had a very bad reaction. I was buzzed most of today and still have a sour feeling in the pit of my stomach. I think I need to go back on the CBD oil, but on a stronger strain (the over the counter stuff I was using is made from hemp).

This whole experience has had the opposite effect for me. Even meeting with Dr. Ben, while it was good, all week I was nervous and sleeping badly, and then the marijuana incident just made me more nervous and ill. Story of my life, it seems. Tomorrow I have a dentist appointment, then an appointment with my orthodontist on Tuesday. These are stressing me out, as our dentist no longer takes my insurance, so this might be my last cleaning with them for the year (until Kevin can change our plan back to a PPO next year). The problem is that I have a (messed up?) gum or (something stuck) in my gum under my permanent retainer (I have a gold strip on the inside of my bottom front teeth). So I want my hygienist to check that out, but I will also have my orthodontist look at it. Doctors' appointments stress me out to begin with, but all this stuff with my gum and then recovering from this ordeal, and *not* having relief... I'm ready to sit down and cry.

Story of my life.

NEXT LEVEL THERAPY...?

So, I started seeing Laura once a week again. However, she and I both discussed my starting to see an actual therapist to work on my deeper issues (Laura is my Biofeedback technician, although I often refer to her as my "therapist" as she has given me guidance and counsel for nearly 5 years). The relaxation techniques I learned from her have helped me tremendously; I am generally more calm, have a slower heart rate, am aware of my breathing, and aware of my teeth clenching. I rarely get chest pains anymore. The light machines I use have helped me as well. But I still have night terrors; I still scream in my sleep. My anxiety and anger sometimes go unchecked, and the side effects are becoming unbearable.

So Laura suggested I see one of the clinical psychologists in her office. I am very leery when it comes to meeting new people. I have trouble making eye contact and being around people in general. But I ran into Dr. Ben on the way out after my appointment with Laura, and he gave me his card and he seems nice enough. He's a kid in his 20s, young, upbeat. Seems a bit hipster-y. He loves animals--he has cats, dogs, birds, snakes, and a turtle. So I might give him a try. I just need to email him to set up an appointment when I'm ready.

The question is: Am I ready? Yes and no. I'm sick of carrying this anger around with me. I know I was emotionally and mentally abused as a child, but I have moved on. It's my subconscious that appears to remain in the past. The relaxation therapy gave me tools, which I greatly needed. My resting heart rate was 130 bpm when I first met Laura. But the underlying issues are still there, and they are keeping me a prisoner. With some good talk therapy, perhaps I can exorcise my demons (or at least try to learn how to control them better). I should be hearing something from the state about my medical marijuana soon, which I believe will also be extremely helpful in my recovery.

Laura says I have graduated from her services and need to move on to the next level. I've grown too comfortable and complacent, and need to be pushed out of my comfort zone. This is the part I don't look forward to. Why? Because it involves *pain.* But sometimes you have to feel bad before you can get better. Sometimes you have to take the medicine regardless of how bitter it might be. So will I put aside my initial discomfort and make an appointment with this guy? I certainly have the time to do so. It's always the first step that is the hardest. We'll see...

READ THE ARTICLE & WATCH THE VIDEO

Fire & Fury Author Michael Wolff Claims Trump Is Having an Affair: 'Read Between the Lines'

BORED

So tonite the alcohol withdrawal symptoms are hitting me really hard. It's like a white raging light blasting in my head and my blood is itching. My PTSD is sky high, and I need to figure out a way to calm down. It's always worse at night (which is usually when I drink).

I'll need to search back, but when I got into Mark Borchardt (back in November?) I would have this nightly ritual where I would get drunk and watch "Coven." I would start with NES gameplay of Drakkhen and then as the night wore on--and I became drunker--I would finish with "Coven." Usually at this point I'd be lying on one of the cats' towels or blankets on the floor upstairs in the den, and Onyx would be cuddling with me, watching too. I would end up falling asleep normally around the middle to end, but the main scene(s) I would remember was when Mark would be saying something like, "A little bit of you, and a few of you," while pouring pills into his hand and downing them with liquor. The subject matter (a struggling writer fighting alcoholism) coupled with my [drowning] problems--both literally and figuratively--would be just the thing to sink me into an easy slumber. I actually managed to spill beer on my tablet on two of these nightly occasions (it still works thankfully).

I am very lonely tonite. Jimmy's ignoring me and Kevin fell asleep a few hours ago. Ironically, I am used to being alone. I can usually deal with the loneliness by reading or going online, but nothing is doing it for me tonite. The weekend is approaching too, and that always amplifies my cravings... mainly because I know everyone is partying and I'm not.

I really hope I don't cave and regret it. I'd hate to call Morocco at 2am in the morning while drinking beer.                                                                                                                                And I don't know what I'm talking about; I'm crazy.


edited to add: It was Christmas Eve when I first saw his movie. I went back and added the tag, so it will be easier for me to find in the future.

edited to add again: I'm the girl tied to the bed, thrashing, in the elevator scene.

NOT ENOUGH COMMITMENT

Cholos vs Vampires is on Kickstarter- Mark Borchardt

I MEAN...

NO SUGAR, SHERLOCK

All quiet (and very boring) on the front tonite.

I MEAN...

I made a Trump supporter friend and live-tweeted through a Mark Borchardt radio show. The universe is mine. #GoWitIt 

THIS IS TRIPPY, MAN...

If I ever write a book I want Mark Borchardt to make the movie of it.

BUT WHY IS IT SO PAINFUL?

So doctor was happy when I told him I was off the booze. He said to stay off it. Then he turned to Kevin and said, "She will be going through a rough time the first month [due to the physical withdrawals] and she's going to need you to help her through it."

So what does Kevin do? Keep insisting that we watch "Flyboys."

KEEP GOING

Well, I met with my doctor today to sign up for medical marijuana. I am now in the system and will be mailing a check for $75 to the state. It could take about a month to hear anything back from them, but once I do I can order my medication (I will even get my own ID card!). This makes me very happy. Sure I could use the drugs RIGHT NOW, but I've been like this for about 36 years, so I think I can go one more month.

I need to hold it together no matter how shit awful I feel. I saw Laura today and she reminded me I get particularly out of whack whenever there is big change in my life. My beloved cat, Buster, recently passed away. I finished my medical coding internship last month and now am a fully certified professional coder. I need to update my resume and jump into this new and intimating field with no on-the-job experience. A lot of other stuff happening too, both with my health and my family's health. I love everyone in my life, and I want everyone to feel good, especially because we all felt so bad in 2017. But any minute I feel like everything could fall apart. So we'll see...

YOU CAN DO IT!

I've already lost 3 pounds since I cut out alcohol from my diet. Looking forward to getting back my hard body (well, maybe not hard, but less squishy).

ONCE YOU GO ORANGE... YOU NEVER GO BACK

Closet Trump supporters have got to be the worst kind of Trump supporters. They secretly love the Orange Cock, but will never openly admit it. Why? Dunno, but here are a few ideas...

1. They're afraid of what the majority of the public will think of them.
2. They're chickenshit.
3. They don't want people to think they're an idiotic, knuckle-dragging moron.
4. They know deep down it's wrong, but it feels so right.
5. They don't want to be banished to the leper colony known as MAGA ASSHATS.

So how to spot a secret Trump supporter? It's easy, and you probably know a few of them in your life already. Look for these key sentences that might vomit repeatedly and uncontrollably from their lips:

1. He's my president.
2. But Hillary.
3. But Bernie.
4. He's your president.
5. He hasn't done anything warranting impeachment.
6. Just ignore him (also: Just ignore his tweets).
7. Everything's fine.
8. This is normal.
9. We've done worse.
10. But Obama.
11. Now that he is president, I will support him if and when he pursues policies with which I agree. I won't support him when I disagree. I am sorry if that upsets you but I am what I am. (This is a direct quote from a closet Trumpie).

Also, they will never come out and attack him. In fact, if you pay attention, you will often find they defend him every time you inform them of the latest idiotic thing he did or said. But to cover up their deep love of the Orange Cock (which I believe is causing a blockage of oxygen to the brain, hence the slow deterioration of cognitive skills... I mean it's not a *big* Orange Cock, but having it in your mouth at all times does make it difficult to speak coherently) they will appear to agree with you by saying things like, "Oh, yeah he's crazy!"

So what to do with your closet Orange Cock loving buddies? Make a coming out party for them resplendent with MAGA hats and streamers, McDonalds, and lots of Diet Coke. You will be liberating that poor suppressed Trump supporter in your life. Think of the relief you will provide them by allowing them to be their true selves. They won't have to lie or cover up, or make any phony excuses anymore. They can spread their MAGA wings and fly!

After all, Nazis need love just like everybody else.

THE VEIL THINS

When everything is said and done, you will be a memory floating on the consciousness of my final dream.

STRANGLED

Evil is winning.

SLEEP, CHILD

People have never been a source of comfort for me, only a source of terror.

I'M EXHAUSTED, LEAVE ME ALONE

There's no place for me.

WICKED

Through the flames she walks on coal that does not burn her. In this desolate wasteland she thrives where nothing can grow or live. Those that cast her, thrust her, into this oblivion will come to regret it one day. But for now the witch waits, in the dark as she always has. There is no change, only time. ⏳🔮🎇

WALKING ON SUNSHINE

I'm in a "Bye Felicia" kinda mood today. And, boy, does it feel good. #EffYou

NEW YEAR, NEW ADDICTIONS?

So what do I do when I kick the alcohol habit? I go buy coffee and cigarettes (I buy one pack every 2-5 years). ☕🚬

FU

I've found the problem with life's equation: People.

PROBABLY WILL COME TO NOTHING

I've just hatched a whole novel--beginning, middle, and end---which I've had bits and pieces of floating in my mind for years. It's rough and shaky (and maybe not so great), but it's there in its infant form waiting to grow/hatch into something beautiful, perhaps. I plan to discuss it both with Kevin and Jimmy to see what they think. I have a lot of self doubt with *anything* that I do or create, which keeps me from taking chances. However, lately I've felt more open to new things both scary and creative. I've dreamed of being a writer since I was a small child; I used to write short stories since the age of 7, but stopped when I was about 11.

I've had a bunch of scenes of a magical place in my head, but tonight I put them all together: all the different areas and parts of this place in my mind. I even made a (weak) plot to go with it, but with good storytelling and descriptive writing, I can flesh it out into something decent. After all, I like to show experiences and the feelings attached to them, and let the story come out of that instead of the other way around. It's a dreamlike feel that I have for the style of this novel. There will be a heroin, if you want to call her that. A knight, although he will be enchanted as something else through the whole story. There will be a witch and a toy maker and a cat grove and a main street with lots of tinkling lights. There will be a city and woods on the outskirt, but most importantly, a dock at the end of the land (there will be 2 docks: the one you arrive by boat on and the one at the opposite end of the land, which leads for miles into a dark ocean surrounded by small islands littered with multi-colored shipping crates). There will be ingredients to collect to undo the spell on the knight. There will be much exploring and obstacles along the way.

I already started drawing the map.

BUCKLE UP, BRUJA

So sobriety is starting to hit me pretty hard. It always does after a long binge (goodbye, sweet December). I need to stay focused; I already made my 2018 drink journal, and I plan to stick to it. But the nerves, the anxiousness, sets in and it ain't pretty being alone with yourself and your thoughts. This Thursday I have an appt. with my primary doctor to see about getting my medical marijuana prescription. I also have a prescription from my TMJ doc for muscle relaxers. Hopefully once I get on these 2 drugs, I will be more relaxed. I'm also seeing Laura, my biofeedback buddy this Friday. I need all the help I can get as this is looking to be a challenging and intimidating year, lord help me.

WHO ASKED YOU?

I'm very upset right now. I just saw a comment posted on an article about gaming addiction as a mental disorder, and the attacker bringing up the true mental disorder of "people who won't accept their gender." I get very hurt and sad when I see people online carelessly belittling the LGBTQ community. What do they get out of it? Is it truly that rewarding to be hateful to people who are different than you? Does this person know any transgender people? Does he have any transgender family members, friends, or coworkers? Is he a doctor? Does he think gay people are mentally ill as well? Is that what Jesus whispered in his ear? I decided to not even reply to his comment, because I've found it's a waste of time to argue with people who have that much callousness in their heart that they have to shit on minorities. I know in the age of Dump, trolls feel more comfortable than ever coming out of their caves and drooling their useless diatribes at people online. Sure they were always there, but now, thanks to their leader, they're emboldened. It sickens me. Why leave a hateful comment? Especially to a group that has the highest suicide rate amongst teens? What if a transgender youth were to read that (and 2 people liked the comment to boot!)? I just don't get it. It takes time and energy to say something like that on a public forum--just as much time and energy it would take to say something nice and uplifting.

MISSED IT BY THAT MUCH! (CRIES)

It’s all right! It’s okay! You can finally buy a Mark Borchardt T-shirt!

I could have had Mark Borchardt's face on my chest! 😭😭😭

ALWAYS

HAPPY NEW YEAR 2018

NEW YEAR

I just tallied up the list of days I drank in 2017, and it turned out to be 104. I am very pleased with myself. I kept a "drinking journal" all through the year to  help keep track of my drinking habits. I purposely drank less than I have in I don't know how many years. Sure it was difficult, and I slipped into some severe depressions and anxiety attacks, but I made it through and I'm healthier to show for it. I'm ready to do it again this year, and who knows, maybe I'll break my record and drink even less. 😉

I also put on my step counter today as I want to start recording my walking steps again. I used to walk 10,000 steps per day, but have slacked off this past year. I've put on more weight than I ever have in the past, but with the walking (and some floor exercises which I plan to resume 3-4 times per week) I should have no problem shedding the weight. In time, with less drinking and healthier eating, I hope to be back to 120-125 lbs. If I make it there, I want to keep going back to 115, but that's a big if. 115 was a long time ago and I'm no longer a spring chicken. Ha ha ha.

I might sound hopeful, but inside I really am dreading this new year as there are many unknowns ahead (more than usual, I should say). But I hope it's mostly good, not just for myself but for my loved ones and everyone.