Thursday, February 26, 2009

One summer night in 03- a simple lesson learned

I swear to god there was nothing on tv except "Sex And The City" tonight as I was flipping channels. I don't really know how I feel about the show. The relationship that Big and Carrie have is a little close for comfort in some senses. Anyway, they go bowling at the end of this particular episode which brought up this memory, I have decided to enclose for my reading pleasure in case I ever get Alzheimers.

It was the summer of 03. I had just moved back to SLC again from Seattle. I wasn't looking for anyone, as I was still pretty broken up over Alastair. (Who was decidedly not affected by my leaving at all.) I believe I was going through my email one night and got an email from one Freddy. He seemed cute enough. We talked online for awhile. We agreed to meet. He specifically suggested bowling. I thought sure, why the hell not.
That weekend I got gussied up and Freddy picked me up at 8:30, just in time to go cosmic bowling. He reveiled to me on the way in the car he had a daughter. At 19 That was the first time I had been out with anyone who had kids. We got to the alley and made chit chat, which soon turned into flirting. Which turned into him kissing me in public. A lot. I knew we were making a scene. I'd never done that before, so I enjoyed that too. The night ended with me on a cloud, but a very grounded cloud because Freddy wasn't terribly bright. I knew it wasn't gunna last too long. I like em smart, and well, let's just say he was a great kisser...
We went out again soon after that. I don't remember what we did exactly, but I knew we were still having fun making out when everything was closing down for the evening. So we went for a short drive. We ended up near Sugarhouse Park. So Freddy looks at me and says "wanna sneak in?" I of course agreed and we wandered into Sugarhouse Park where soon we fell on the grass under some trees, dodging cops.
Deciding fate was on our side we went ahead and continued making out to full getting it on. I believe Freddy left the condom wrapper there just as a sort of flag.
I didn't see Freddy again after that, no surprise. But He sticks out as a couple firsts.
I guess I'll at least learn someone's last name next time we decide to do it in a public place, if there is a lesson to be learned here.

Damn I miss the summer.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

A breather from anger, but a step behind

I am a different person today than yesterday, here's the fucking thing: I took a step back a minute ago. Chris made plans to call because we hadn't talked today or yesterday, and I'm worked up over it. Or was til I used a pill for its intended use. Hah. It's like a slap across the face of "oh yeah! another promise he's forfeiting because he found something else to do. I remember this now." Another moment my feelings don't matter. So why do I do this? Sigh. At least I have perspective. I won't cut. I won't go crazy. But I'm taking a day away. Meanwhile...

You said I’m yours to keep
With your voice so deep
But you were just talking in your sleep

I’ll do just what you crave
My life for you I’ll waive
All I get is the spot next to your grave

And you’re a fool to not see
I’m not hanging here
to keep you company

BUT What am I suppose to do
When all hope is gone?
How am I suppose to leave you
When you’re the only one?
I made a deal with Mr.Hades
My soul he wants to buy
For you I’ll die

Oh this is the end
My only friend the end
Are words from our favorite band
I know we’re not astray
And my love won’t decay
Are things that you’ll never say

It is strange how time flies
It’s been year thats gone by
And you don’t know the color of my eyes

BUT What am I suppose to do
when all hope is gone?
How am I suppose to leave you
When you’re the only one?
I made a deal with Mr.Hades
My soul he wants to buy
For you I’ll die
For you I’ll die


And you’re a fool to not see
I’m not hanging here
to keep you company
It is strange how time flies
It’s been year that’s gone by
And you don’t know the color of my eyes

BUT What am I supposed to do
when all hope is gone?
How am I suppose to leave you
When you’re the only one?
I made a deal with Mr.Hades
My soul he wants to buy
For you I’ll die
For you I’ll die
For you I’ll die
For you I’ll die

WTF soup is this?!? Daily recall

I am picking the peas out of what was vegetable soup when I made it. It's not veg soup. Oh well. Beggars can't be choosers and all that and it's still within calorie range for the day. I like the peas. Call me crazy.
Tonight I drove to the merc and was there way too fucking early. I haven't mentioned Gary yet, but I shall. Anyway, I got there to hang out with my girlfriend Jamie. I should clarify that Jamie is my married transgendered friend with a crush on me. LOL. Whatever. She's good company. I sauntered up to the bar to order my first "I Don't Know" (a drink I invented) and Sean my fav bartender there made it up right quick. Perfectly. We talked for a few moments and then he asked for me to sit for him for a video game character he's creating for his final class to get his degree in some engineering class for his major to do with it. I'm flattered. He says I have to do the whole thing nude though. Not so hot on the idea anymore, but still, flattered. Needless to say I got my drinks much more cheaply tonight. I can feel the hangover coming for this reason alone.
Back to Gary.
Gary saved my life a couple months ago when a fucking guy named T.J who introduced me to the Merc left me there to go home while I was in the bathroom. I had no idea where my car was in relation to the bar and was more or less stranded. Gary, though working and god bless his heart, took his break to help get me back to my car. Gary and I talked a few times, and I really dug the guy. More as a person than anything more. You get the idea. So Gary and I have had dinner every Sunday since this incident. No funny business or anything. He's a complete big hearted person in a super skinny guy frame. He's the only person I've met whose life experience possibly exceedes mine. Fascinating. He's great. I have nothing bad to say about him.
Last week dinner was canceled on account of his ex gf drama. It's cool. I understood. So tonight we took a breather and talked about her. What had gone down, what she was doing, yada yada. I feel bad for both parties involved. It simply sounds like a tragedy equal to they just want different things. Anyway, he leaned in for a hug and I just held him for a few minutes. It was nice to be that close to someone again. To be there for someone. To feel appreciated, and not objectified. I have the utmost respect for him and if someone fucks with him, I'll do what I can to make their life painful. I don't know how to explain it, because I'm so gaurded all the time, but when I immediately start caring about someone and someone fucks with them, that party will have problems. I hope we have dinner this Sunday. He knows the best hole in the wall restaurants. I hope he doesn't get back with his ex too. At least one of us would listen to me haha...
Chris texted about three times today. He had 'a hell of a day.' I'm not saying anything, except he says that a lot. It's convenient. Anyway, he said he hardly had a chance to breathe at which point I told him I'll let you breathe and didn't text again for the rest of the evening. I'm not playing that game anymore. I'm not chasing him. I guess we'll see what happens in the next couple days.
In other news my friend Shae said he has some books for me to read. Awesome. I need some new material.
I want to sound candid without sounding self centered, but on my way back from Seattle I listened to my own music. I listened as objectively as I could. Damn, I know how much work I put into lyrics. They don't get recorded until I'm satisfied and a lot of times that takes years. I could tell listening. Some of the structure and songs themselves need... something, but I am an anal retentive bitch when it comes to knowing what will actually sound good, even if it doesn't always get there. Happier is well written. Running too...
Ok, night night time. I can tell I'm gunna be hungover tomorrow. I just hope it's not too bad. I'm not writing like I do when I'm too gone. No xanax tonight though. No more crazy Kate, even if I am home alone. I don't want to deal with her.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Dear Mom

Dear Mom-

This is the shit I will never tell you in my life. I heard in therapy once it was good to write a letter about things, and you'll never read it. I never did. I thought it was stupid. When I wrote my first letter to Mike Peters and burned it after he died it resolved nothing. The night after I told him we couldn't go out again he turned up dead. Suspicious circumstances. I think you protected me, and in truth he killed himself. I hope if he did he will forgive me...
When I was in therapy with Deb, the first person in five years of therapy I couldn't outsmart or didn't see right through me and my act we confronted you about the shit that had happened over the years. You denied it. The stuff you copped to was telling me you were sure it could not have had the impact on me as a kid that it did. I'm writing to say that it did. She was the first one to say from day one she had me pegged as an abuse survivor. I shrugged it off and said "shit man, you gotta have discipline." I never came out and told her what had gone down.
My first suicide attempt at eleven years old was after a night of re-doing my homework because it wasn't good enough for you. I was a straight A student. The next year I scored in the 98th percentile on my SAT. You checked everything I did. Everything I wrote. If it wasn't good enough you'd sit me at the table and take away my life: my music. (Not to mention that time you went through my cd collection, my soul, and threw away anything that sounded 'perverse' including a matchbox twenty album. WTF?) I couldn't live up to the pressure. The screaming matches where you'd get in my face and would NOT let me yell back. Rebel. The tears of frustration were all I had. I took fifteen Tylenol that night and prayed for one of the last nights in my life. I woke up. God and I would never be the same again.
The next year when you had left to go buy the tent trailer in an unusually warm November I went rollerblading as usual. In the park at evening like usual. That night when the man pulled up and asked me for directions I didn't know what was coming. I was stupid. Then he pulled out the knife, held it to my throat and took me behind the tennis courts... I didn't tell you. From the age of 12-15 that was my biggest secret. It was a few days later I decided to kill myself with wrist wounds. That didn't work but it led to the beginnings of my Borderline Personality Disorder.
Then because I wanted to buy a shirt you didn't approve of you made a snide comment. This wasn't the first time you had called me a slut. But it was the time you said "if you buy a shirt like that someone will rape you." And I looked you dead in the face and said "it doesn't matter what you wear Mother..." And broke down.
I don't remember when the screaming matches turned to violence. Sometime around the same time I turned fourteen I think. Thanks for that. You took everything out on me, and then I'd cut the shit out of my arm because I believed I was the shit you would tell me I was. You saved it all for me. So much you scared my little sister on occasion.
Remember the time you nearly broke my hand pushing down on the edge of the bathtub showing me how to scrub it properly? No? I do. I always will. I want to forgive you for that incident, but I'm not sure how... Maybe this letter will help.
Then I moved to be with Dad. I was away from you after finally having the fact you loved Carrie more than me shoved in my face so obviously for the last time. I ran away from home, and then you sent me away to Seattle. I loved this city. I finally had my acting and singing coming out in a fashion I needed. I fell in puppy love with someone who finally loved me back the way I could love them. I felt validated. I SO needed that. Then in one fell swoop it was gone. I was back in Salt Lake and living in hell again.
The only relief I got was when I finally moved out of the house at 18, because when I asked you what you wanted that year for Christmas you told me you wanted me out of the house. The next week I was gone. I'd never had freedom before. I used to check in with my room mates and give them my itinerary because I was such a trained monkey. I owe Jay and Lloyd so much for my time at that house. That apt in sugar house was the first place I began to define myself. Who I really was. My deep deep dark depression I had felt for so long and felt I would always have began to lift. I held a job. Things were so much different than they had ever been. It was the most independent I have been.
Then I started getting sick. All the time. The headaches, the pain, anytime someone would sneeze I'd get a cold. The insomnia came to a head. It wasn't occasional anymore. It was every night. You always minimized what I was going through. Even the cancer was "you'll be ok. You're strong. You're too young for it to kill you." I guess you were right, but I needed my mommy. I wanted you there SO BADLY when I was going through that. We had four cars, two houses, all sorts of shit but a plane ticket to come to Seattle was extravagant. You hated the rain. You had your reasons. So I read to myself at night. I talked to Bevin, because how could Dad understand the repercussions of breast cancer?
Then in the midst of life, no longer depressed, living on my own but well aware that wasn't going to be an option for long with my health, I met someone. He stole my heart. I had no choice in it. He was too amazing to push aside. Everything I had been looking for. So alike in so many ways. I'd never been ALIVE like that. You know the funny thing? He reacts just like you do. Lisa used to tell me all the time: you're working out your mother issues through Chris. And you used to tell me how much you hated him for what he was doing to me. But I LOVED him. I still do. I hope you're ok with that, because I did everything I could to make it go away and it never did. I don't know the end on that story, but everything I've read on NPD'S and BPD'S finding each other says it's a life long thing.
Chris and I discovered some good but very dark things. When we had that binge on cocaine we talked about fucking everything. He's the only person who knew everything that had transpired. I was able to recall those things and not give a shit. That was the drawing thing for me then. It covered up all the shit. When he listened and he was sympathtic, I loved him more. The drugs connected me to him. Tied us together. We bonded over so many fucking things. They covered up what was wrong and I let go.
Mom you WERE there for the abortion. And you were there the night and day I had to go back to have the surgery. I owe you for that big time. Chris wasn't there. You were.
I'm so sorry Dad hurt you up and leaving the way he did. I told him to. He had to. I worried about him killing himself so many nights because of the interactions you two had. He was fucking miserable, and when he tried to leave the first time you wouldn't let him. He came back, and it got worse. We both had to get out of our toxic relationships. So we came. I'm so so sorry if you feel like I took his side. I just needed for him to be ok. I hope you can understand someday. You used to say I would be the reason you divorced... I guess I was part of it...
I know you'll never read this but I want us to have a healthier relationship. I want you to realize I'm in my mid twenties and I'm not a kid. I have a life and my time is just as valuable as yours. I will do my best not to let you run me down, and try my hardest to participate in family shit more. Someday you WILL know a song of mine, and you'll be proud of me. Someday you'll see that my music ISN'T a phase and my melodies are part of my soul.
Thanks for dragging my ass to the hospital that night... I wouldn't have come back if you hadn't known how dire it was. I sure as hell didn't.
In spite of everything I love you. I hope you know that. I'm emotionally drained now. I'm calling it an evening.

Stuffed silly, my article, and, well, shit

I stuffed myself silly tonight on sushi. Literally. When I was so full and couldn't eat another bite things got ridiculous. I giggled and made jokes and talked praying that the pain in my stomach would go away, because, you know, good sushi can't just go to waste. Generally I've only had a handful of stomach aches that could be contributed to over eating in my whole life. I guess I just used to eat like crap and that's why it's hard for me to lose weight. Overall I'm a roller coaster though. Ah well. Just keep swimming, swimming swimming swimming...

I felt bad for telling Simon to fuck off so abruptly. So I texted him tonight. We talked for a bit then I went to his place. He apologized for being so back and forth. I told him it was cool. In reality he's really easy to like and be around but he plays such fucking mind games I wouldn't know what to do. So I guess we'll be friends now. But I gotta keep the crush out of it. God he makes me laugh. That man was blessed with the best sense of humor I think I've ever met in a person. Def top 3.

Speaking of... BIG SIGH.

Here's the truth: Chris and I are talking again. A lot. More than we used to when we lived closer. I wonder if he's lonely? He wins me over with words, and somehow we're laughing again and being nostalgic and before I know it I say I love him again and I realize I'm in over my head. All it took was a week of him being more like I wished he would've been when we were together. He wants to move here in six months (though I highly doubt that will happen.) The weirdest thing today though: we were talking and in the middle of him saying something sweet about me I got scared. Like that feeling of slow down. This is moving quickly. The thought crossed my mind that I didn't want to be in a relationship. This is odd, because subconsciously I think I haven't gotten too serious with anyone here because I still want to be with him. If that's the case, why the sudden feeling? It passed, but I had to think about it.
I hate how much I feel for him still. It makes me out of control. Just of me, I'm not a control freak. In fact I'm more discardian than not most of the time. But he has all the fucking power in this.
Truth is, I've always felt he was the one. From day one. I don't think I'm the only girl that's ever said that about him though. He just... has this weird charm that schmoozes people and before you know it he hands you the kool aide. Maybe it's a spell. I like that about him. That he wins people over. But not that he uses it for his own purposes, especially with women. But damn. He sure knows all the right things to say at the right times. He's got a long way to go in not having me wonder what waits lurking after something nice happens. If I just don't believe his promises, and feel flattered in what he says maybe I can salvage myself if this ends up being temporary as usual. I'm far enough away and broken up enough amout of time I get over it in a couple days.
Maybe it's the sushi talking.

I had my first article published! You can find it online, it has my name on it and everything! It's about Dick's Drive In here. It's short but sweet. I'm working on my next article. Tentatively titled "the drawing power of Sea town." I have a list on the fridge of other ideas in case I get writers block. I really want to do something in July to commemerate the murder of Mia Zappata. And of course do a piece on the Green River killer - Gary Ridgeway. Might as well put all that forensic criminal psychology to use somehow. Meanwhile I've read the Heroin Diaries again for like the 27th time no joke. And I watched Christopher Titus again this afternoon. My life is a rerun. Where's the remote? Time for something new. I wanna go paragliding. That shit looks fun! And dangerous. But when has that ever stopped me.

Got my haircut again. I'm considering going short though. I hate it when I get that itch because as soon as I cut it I fucking miss my mane. Right now it's long in front, short in back. Rocked out. But I'm thinking a shorter version may be around the corner in a couple months... We'll see. It would be the first time in 5 years.

I hate hangovers. I'm not hungover today, but I'm certainly not drinking as much as I used to. I stopped mixing liquor and meds because I was more insane doing that than I have ever been in my life. I don't need to add that to my already... strong... personality. I have not cut since Oct 24 2008. That is like sobriety for me. I haven't loathed myself or gotten so bad there was nothing else to do. I'm finally starting to win this battle with my demons. I also now slow down instead of reacting premptively when something bad is coming. I still know it, but I'm able to deal with it more rationally. Everything is better. But my dissassociation is worse. I did it three times today. Once in the car, once in the store buying draino and once while I was with Jarett after sushi. I just float away from my body. I'm not fucking there. People talk to me and it takes me a couple seconds to come back and which point I say huh? Because I didn't hear them. I feel myself doing it sometimes and have this thought like 'wait! don't go! we have to focus now!' and then a few minutes later I'm back from whatever memory I was stuck in. Reliving the moment as if I'm in the moment. It's so weird. Like being on a bad acid trip for a few minutes. I need to talk to someone about this, because it's never been a big problem til about a month ago. Now it's a regular occurance. Nothing's changed, so why now?

I've taken my blessed xanax and am drifting into peace of mind. I feel myself getting slowly addicted again. Time to do the weeing off. But for tonight that's all she wrote. Signing off.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Tonight, tonight

I write tonight with a decent amount of liquor in me. So excuse the brutal honesty, the emotion, the nonsense...

I felt alone. I went to my usual karaoke spot tonight. It was dead. I had a vodka cran to pass the time. Then another to make the guy I was talking to more interesting. Then another to get the buzz going. Then another because I could.

I'm tired. Emotionally tired. Tired of the tom foolery. Tired of the game, and of the pretense. I listened to Sarah McLaughlin on the way home, which was a bad idea, but I put the Ipod on random. I listened and felt that familiar emotion. The one that nags at me when I wake up in the morning after finally sleeping for the first time in days. The one that says "you don't have the time to act like a kid anymore. When you go, how will you be remembered? Kind? Selfish? Loving? Lost?" and I sigh. Sometimes it matters, and sometimes it doesn't. Living to thirty is more than some are allowed, and I'm thankful for it.

I'm thankful that I didn't succomb to the cancer at seventeen, and fought it off. Thankful I was allowed a second chance after the accidental night with pills and alcohol. Thankful I fell in love so deeply with someone, and at the time it made me happier then anything I'd felt before. Happy for the true friends I've made. Happy that I got one more sunset, one more new song, rain storm, read book, good movie, long drive...

I miss some things. Memories that were good. My friends I've lost along the way. But I know I'll see them again. I know it. And I know wheather I lose this latest bout with the disease sooner or later, that I did my best and I'm where I belong now. I can trust this stupid page to keep my truths safe. I write compulsively I think because it will be all thats left eventually of me, even if no one knows it exists.

Tonight though, I'm gunna drink water and read another of my fav books. I'm gunna be happy I sang "Everytime" and I'm gunna be glad I started writing a new song.

I'm gunna be glad Chris told me he loves me tonight, because it's reassuring, and it's the closest I'll ever have to what it means for real. And besides, in truth... I still love him too...

Tonight, tonght... I'll be ok

Thursday, February 5, 2009


Dum Dum Dum.

Currently I'm furious. My ex fiance has decided to start texting me again. Damn it, I'm his fucking therapy. He had a bad night and now he's texting me hoping I'll be sympathetic like usual and tell him it's all ok and he should come here.
Ahh, I take that back. Apparently he has a flight booked in April to come. Sure.

I'm angry because when he "planned" to run into me at Area 51 that night in December he sent me into a complete whirlwind of emotions. Then we talked for a week after, he making all the usual promises none of which I believed of course, and then EXACTLY as I predicted dropped off the planet a week later, when he stopped returning communication. Why? Because my feelings don't fucking matter. It's about what he wants, and only what he wants. And now because it suits him he tells me Jae Cee has "fallen to the depths" and they can no longer be friends.
I'd guess if I heard Jae's opinion it would be very different.
It seems ironic to me that all of his close friends are no longer close friends of his, yet it's always his friends fault.
Anyway, I sent him a text a month ago saying goodbye I'm done playing this game, knowing full well he'd text again someday when he needed someone there. Damn it, I'm not a dog you can kick around and expect to keep coming back at the end of the day. And you can't come meet the dog to make a grand gesture about how "it was always you" when you ran off with someone I had tentitively made a friend.
I have no reason to believe you Chris, and no faith in you. I know because of how egged on I am I still love you, but that comes and goes. I won't ever trust you fully again, because all that's asking is to be pulled in closer so you can get a better handle when you slap me again. I try so hard not to say negative things about people. What I write in here is a reflection of me, and not the people I hang with.
You come to Seattle though, and we're playing a dangerous game again. Yet... We have the history that will always make us close. It's either going to be good, and we'll be happy. Or it'll be bad and we'll destruct everything we ever had.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

The ad on Craigslist

In true Kate fashion, whenever I finally decide to get rid of someone I always fill up that space with at least three more people. It makes it hard to keep my schedule straight but I'm less lonely. So by this decree I posted on ad on Craigslist two days ago. Trying to write back to everyone who writes me is a full time job in and of itself. In fact, that's what I should be writing now. I'm incredibly sick with a cold right now though, and can't really think straight.
Someone called Joseph has written me a few times and seems we have the most in common, or potential if you will. I'm excited.
I got all kinds of interesting responses. Some better than others, but most said nice things. I needed to hear it I suppose...
Who may you ask left the hole then? That would be Simon. Doing the wishy washy thing too much, so I've put him out of my life.
I'm watching Thelma and Lousie. I love this movie. Haven't seen it in ages. If I'm gunna shower I should now before Brad Pitt comes on.


Ok, so I'm clean now. I don't have much to say except I should start researching my next article. And I gotta take more nyquil. Blech.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

I'm a bundle of messes

It's 8:30 am and I'm awake, waaaaay to early again. Why? Because at least three of my diagnosis' are bugging me. Some days that's all I am: a collection of symtoms and I have to figure out a way to live around them. Today, it's my chronic insomnia, arthritis and cystitis. I'm in PAIN.
Other diagnosis in the last ten years have been

Cancer (That's the big one)
Insomnia (This effects me every damn day)
Depression (Though that is a side effect of BPD)
Diffused pain disorder
DMT (every day too)

That's a few I can think of now. I'm tired of whining about some symptom everyday. But the pain can really be unbearable exasperated by not sleeping.

Here I am whining again. I'm going back to bed. Wish me luck.