Monday, September 28, 2009

Dear Broken Heart

Dear broken heart-

You perfectly fucking awful thing. I knew you were lurking before. I felt the twinge of you occasionally on the wind. I know how you love to hang round as soon as I even get a hint that you're coming. The crying. The whys. The questions that never have any fucking answers or closure. You drive me to drink. You drive me to binge. You drive me to fuck others. Are you missing entirely? Is this the problem? That I am completely devoid of a whole heart to begin with that the pieces never fully mend and I can never fully trust? You lead me to the worst things. Love killed me. And Love kills me. Every time, and the only effort it takes is a fucking smile on one boys face. One compliment, one laugh, one perfect moment and you sit there. Ready to fucking ruin it for me. You put on the songs that make me it worse because you are masochistic, and drowning in it drives me closer to the edge. Where some day accidentally or possibly intentionally it won't hurt anymore. You win too often. This fucking russian roulette. I dare you to give yourself the way you once did. You won't survive. So what then? What the fuck then am I to do I ask you? You impulsive shit. You heart, you give it away so easily desperately seeking some sort of love you have been denied at every turn. With family. With friends. And of course, more deeply, with lovers. Hit and run.

You know what's fucked up heart? You play the game well. You make the men fall like cards. Even when you are out with the one you love, you can attract the ones that you can inevitably break, just as you've been broken. What is it I asked Dean. He said "there's something about you. Your energy. Being around you is like being alive. Living in the moment." I guess I'm intoxicating. But shit, that's only when I don't care. I start to feel anything remotely deeper than attraction and it all goes out the window. I become complacent. I want to please. I avoid conflict. And I secretly hope someday one I feel for asks me what I want. What makes me happy. Who I am. You know who I am? Someone who's past is a broken movie. There's being really young til about ten. The years I can find childhood. Those years mean something. Then past ten I broke. Men broke me. My mother broke me. My school mates broke me. I can not think of one moment, not one, where I was truly happy. The years run together. I try to forget. I drug to numb. I drink to forget. I cut to pacify. I learned lying is your friend. Lie about the abuse. Lie about how you feel. Lie to impress because no one fucking likes you anyway.

Without those years I miss a huge chunk of who I am. I stopped taking pictures of myself. I stopped trying. I lived those cruel moments over and over. The knife to my neck. The feel of the forceful hands upon me. Over my mouth. Killing the inside of me in one swift act of violation. Then the cruel notes in my locker. The failed attempts at rebellion. Then I reached out. Alastair led me to believe maybe he could teach me to trust, to love again. But he was the first in the string of men that had me because I was convenient. I am more than that dammit. I know I am. But here I feel you. Choking me. I can not breathe for the pain.

I can not write any more to you heart. Not tonight. You need to do what you can to protect yourself. Pay attention to the warning signs. Be smarter. But time is the only thing that helps this. So I ask you this: Someday, do you think you can give yourself away, and have someone give the same to you? Not convenient. Not cheating. Not a filler. Really give. If the answer is no then perhaps you should stop. Because really, this broken feeling... There are no words. Let this be a lesson to you.


Friday, September 18, 2009

Karaoke Hate Mail

Welcome to post 150. I suppose I have a lot to say about my life most times...

Last Saturday Johnny and I went to Game Works downtown and we had an absolute blast. We played air hockey and fighting games. We played shooters and pinball. We had a little dinner and a drink and then bar hopped. We ended at karaoke at The Crescent, reminiscent of my birthday one of my favorite days with him. I sang some Bon Jovi and I guess I did well at it because the kj bought me a drink and asked me to do a Heart song. They didn't have the Heart song I wanted so I sang "Black Velvet" instead.
When I got called back up again Shane, the host said "now what song is this?" I looked at the slip and written on it said
Fuck you

I said "I didn't write that. Look at what it says!" He read it and covered his mouth. I smiled and said "can I still sing?" He said yes and asked what I wanted. I did Evanescence as per my usual. He came out and had a cig with Johnny and I and we giggled about it. I was drunk enough I found it nothing but funny. Johnny being eternally cute filled in a new slip that said
She's wonderful

Or something like that. I never actually saw the slip. But it was a sweet gesture. We went home after and actually talked for awhile about spirituality and other things. Then we went to bed.

In other news Johnny's bassist is Gar. Gar's ex girlfriend Summer and I never got along before. I think I wrote about attending her birthday party and needing to have a conversation with her about what happened. She flipped me off and was rude and dragged Amber away from me whenever we were dancing or anything. I was so upset because I figured she was the epitome of one of the things that were already bugging me about Johnny and I. Johnny's friends it seemed has all these walls up about me. I felt I was going into something I was already losing. I had a lot of anger about it. Well, I ran into Summer somewhere unexpected last week and we had a long talk about what was going on and why and what our perspectives were. We spent a good deal of the night talking. She took me by the arms at one point and said "I think we're gunna be really great friends." I smiled and nodded, though at the time I wasn't sure whether she was being sincere. I believe now that we've spent more time together she was.
We hung out and had a sleepover one night, and we went out to the Mecca yesterday. She's a really loud, fun, amazing person. She's a tough girl, but we talked a lot about her past and I understand why she is the way she is. How she feels about Gar. She drew the icon for Johnny's band. We spent some time doing art on our sleepover.
She came out to the practice space at Studio Seven one day too. I'm hoping we can get together again this weekend though she may be busy. I feel like I can talk to her if I have to. And I have about one topic. But I haven't really voulenteered much about myself yet. As again, I usually don't. But I can see being in her life for a good long time. We have some shit in common.

Spent the day at Johnny's in bed, sick again. I think the stress is making it worse. I had a headache, was sick to my stomach, shakey, it was all bad dude. It wasn't a hangover or anything. I have another dr apt on Wed before I leave town.

Johnny and I and I suppose Amber are going to the Manic Street Preachers concert on Monday. I say suppose because I'm not sure if we're all going together, or if Gar is coming or what. I don't know if it's a standing thing because even though I kept asking J to go to the venue with me before hand so I could learn the ropes, we never went. I wanted to get to know the staff and stuff too, to figure out the best way to surprise Johnny. But it never came to pass. I may still try and do it tomorrow or the next day. I don't know how I'll be feeling. I have band practice early in the morning, which means when I'm done with this I'm taking my pills. But if I can pull it off, and I'm certain I could have had I had more time or Johnny had been willing to go, it would have been a great thing to accomplish. Maybe it can still happen. I'm gunna try.

What else? I finally gave Jon his books back. I'm leaving for Salt Lake again next Thursday, and it'll just be like a long weekend.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

The Port Townsend trip

*amendment: this blog was started on 9/11 and it's now 9/17. I have been so busy the last week I haven't had time to catch up or hardly breathe. But I'm gunna try and finish this one now...*

Today was a great day. One of the best in my life. Frank and I planned a day trip to one of the islands to explore and bike ride. Got up early and headed to his place at 11 am. We left at 11:45 and began the 2 hour drive to Port Townsend. Waiting in line a long ass time for the ferry but from there it was all good. We spent the rest of the drive talking about everything really. We listened to 80s metal most of the way. I insisted on Motley Crue. The drive was about three hours long, and we passed through a quaint town, so we stopped at a fruit stand. It was a day for exploring. Frank got a nectarine and I avoided getting anything since I'm allergic to most of the fruit they had. Dude, I miss nectarines and peaches and apricots most of all. When we got back on the road and he was eating it I thought "maybe enough time has passed I'm not allergic to it anymore. I drink orange juice in my vodka sunrises... Even though I can't eat the fruit. Maybe I'm dellusional." I wasn't. I had a nibble and almost immediately started feeling that icky feeling in my mouth. I was uncomfy for the next hour. But the sun was shining, I was on an adventure, and I was with the current best friend in my life. So I tried not to think about it.

We got to Port Townsend around 2pm and I was hungry, so the first order of business was to find lunch. We strolled down the main drag looking much like tourists, reading the menus posted outside of restaurants. One had listed a crab and artichoke sandwich. I had to have it. And boy, was I glad I did. It was the best fucking thing I've practically ever eaten. Granted, it's not sushi... but it was damn good. Frank had some other sandwich and a side salad and said it was the best dressing he'd ever had. The building with the restaurant was an old hotel converted. Damn, I think it was haunted. I get feelings about shit like that. I sense things. I liked it- But I didn't too. We sat on the porch overlooking the bay. The service was way slow, but I didn't mind. We were on island time. We left the restaurant to go and see about renting bikes and it turns out it was also a kayak stand. Frank's never been kayaking so we inquired about renting one. Unfortunetely they were getting ready to shut down for the day, so I promised him we'd go another time and told him what fun it is. We wandered around the port for the next little while. Stopping in shops, doing whatever tickled our fancy. There is a beautiful celtic store there I could totally see getting lost in. I spent a good thirty minutes in there considering buying everything in the shop, but eventually left with nothing. In another store I found a leather jacket I adored. But I have one already, and it would be a waste. We wandered looking for a shot glass for me and finally found one in a local drug store. I also bought a little Buddha statue. I've been meaning to get one for some time now. They are good luck, and it's a good reminder to just live with compassion. Kharma exists. Life rules. All things that mean something to me.

From there we walked to a park where I swang for awhile. There was a Japanese garden inside that was beautiful and I took pictures of every beautiful thing I saw. Which means I have more pictures than most trips. We wandered to the beach then to watch the sunset and while I was walking the tide rushed up and drenched my feet. I played with dogs, and we saw oodles of boats. The day drawing to a close and being very tired at that point from walking so far we decided to pack it in and call it a day. We made the boat exactly on time and walked to the deck where I let the cold wind whip my hair around for awhile feeling just amazing. A little sad to see that day go, but in great spirits otherwise.

We got back to Frank's and I talked to Johnny a little on the phone. We then watched tv for awhile til Frank passed out on me again. So I went home popped a pill and went immediately to bed. Oh my God, I woke up in a puddle of drool. I NEVER sleep like that. I was out dude. I don't think anything could have awoken me. The day had worn me out. I had just enough time to start this blog and have the sense to realize the pills were kicking in and I needed to be in bed now.

Anyway, that day is a memory I'll treasure forever. I didn't waste that day at all. Port Townsend, I hope I make it back to you.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

A Detour

I don't remember the last time I was this lonely. I feel fucking empty right now. I shouldn't. I've been invited out by 3 different people. I just came home to shower and this feeling just settled on me like a cloud. Perhaps it's what's happened the last couple days.

Saturday was Johnny's show. One of my oldest friends in the world Mary came to see him play. I hadn't seen her in years. Ironically she was just in town on a visit, as she lives in Salt Lake. Weird how that worked out. We caught up. Boy it was great to see her. I was bored by the opening bands, but Post Ado rocked it as always. I sure love hearing him play. Then there was an after party we went to, and the rumor was there was going to be little white happiness there. It never came to pass, but I got one of my feelings. It was in the air...

Sunday I stayed longer at Johnny's again, sleeping as long as I could as I was still out of ambien. I got up, texted Jon and he invited me over to his hotel. So I went. We had dinner and drinks at this charming Chinese diner. He said we should pick up some wine and keep the conversation going. So we grabbed 3 bottles of white. Talked for a long while. He apologized for the way he acted at the Seattle show which I greatly appreciated. He actually listened to me talk about my life, and the things I'm doing. Listened about Johnny, and about his band. It was a good vibe. Then he asked if I could get us blow. I made the call and even though I wasn't expecting it to happen, the deal went down smoothly, strangely. I've almost never had deals go down like that. Usually it's a lot of chasing and retarded wait game bs. So we went back to the hotel where it snowed long into the morning. Eventually Jon fell asleep. I was still wide awake, dreading the 30 minute drive, dreading having to stop for gas, dreading the eventual come down. I was already feeling it a little. But I put on my big girl panties and did as I needed. Then I came home. I swear to God I nearly had a heart attack. The shit was good. Some of the best I've ever had.

I laid around trying to sleep from 10am to 3pm. I finally got an hour round then. Then talked to Frank and was up for a little. Had another short nap and went back to Frank's where we made Pho soup and watched more food network. Confided in my last couple days adventure. Left around 3am again.

Monday I spent the day at home again. Did very little.

Tuesday I got up late. Slept a bit more which I needed, so that was nice. Went out to Johnny's earlier. I promised myself I wouldn't write or tell anyone what had happened til J heard. I wanted to be completely honest about everything. I knew he'd understand. So we had our usual Tuesday night with wine. Watched our programs. Made fun of "more to love." Made out for a long time.

I stayed late again this morning because I was supposed to head to Studio Seven for a jam session. Johnny came home on break and while I wanted to spend time with him in between, I slept instead. It was my first day back on ambien, and I'm pretty sure I took more than one because J at some point said "baby haven't you taken that already?" I put the pill down and laid down wondering if I'd already blacked out. So that probably helped the massive sleep. God, it's way better to sleep too much than not enough. When I got up at 4pm I drove over to Studio Seven. Jammed with an old pro musician whose band opened for WASP at some point. Also mentioned knowing the people in Witchburn and Hells Bells. I seriously can't believe what a small world it is. Or how tight the musician community is here in Seattle. Even the drummer knew Gar, Johnny's bassist. So they were all excited about playing. Hell we all were. The session went on for quite awhile. I think if I wanted to start another project now I probably could. If I'm impressing the musicians of that caliber, I must be alright. It was validating. Maybe I will start a second project. Who knows. I'd have to double up on writing though. That's just extra pressure.

Anyway it snowed again a little today too. Sigh. I was killing time waiting for J and it came out. Anyway, once he said he'd had a shitty day and wanted to be alone I cut it off and came home. Probably saving myself a lot more trouble. Writing has made me feel better. I kind of want to go to Big Daddy's, but that's a long drive for karaoke. I'm not even really in the mood to sing. I just kinda wanna talk to Frank. He's got a calming vibe and I wouldn't be alone. Should I drive? Or just wait the 2 hours til he's off and then go? I dunno. I wish he had a cell so I could text him and ask these things. I just wish he was home now. Life aint fair hehe.

Anyway we'll see how tomorrow goes.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Recall Before Bed

So I'm writing again today. I need to go to bed soon though to be up for rehearsal tomorrow.

The last couple days have been kind of interesting. I'll start with Tuesday. Tuesday was Johnny time. When I got there he was very affectionate and attentive. It was incredibly sweet. It was the second time in a row he acted more like that. It was nice. We laughed long into the morning and had a good time overall.
Wednesday I stuck around through the day because his shift had changed and I wanted to be around him a little more. Then I came home and changed and picked up my friend Michael and we went out to the Wild Rose bar for karaoke. He met the host on okcupid and decided to meet her in person, and wanted me along so as not to be eaten by the lesbians at the bar. Johnny joined us after he finished his shift. She was very nice after all, and I had a fun time singing and stuff. We all decided to hop bars at the end of the night to this very nice Spanish bar with great ambiance. After a couple there, we walked to get wine and walk to Johnny's to hang and talk and drink. Plans got thwarted though when a rather drunk Michael started dancing and knocked the wine from Johnny's hand breaking it. J was super pissed for a little, and I being in the middle decided we'd leave shortly. I kissed J goodbye, and we walked the mile (maybe a little less) to where the car was parked in the rain. Tried to stay positive, but my feet were def being ripped open again. I'm still sore.
Drove Michael home, and on the way Frank called. He asked if I'd come over for a sec to help with some stuff and I said sure, so I went over and helped with dishes, and the cat and came home again.
Driving on the way to Frank's Johnny sent me a message asking if I'd call, and continuing the feeling he was demonstrating earlier he was very sweet and said lovely things again. I was liking the way things has changed a little.

Thursday I was dead. Just done dude. I had to get up early the next day to help Frank with his car by giving him a ride. But I hadn't slept much at all the two nights prior. So I had a hard time focusing, and was simply exhausted. I felt like crying. I arrived where I was supposed to be at the right time, but drove past the location, confused by the directions and ended up being 30 minutes late to pick Frank up. He was pissed off at me, but relented as soon as he saw how sick I was quickly becoming. I spent the after noon laying around his place while he worked on his computer waiting for the time to go pick his car up again. I made him drive my car to get his. He left me then to do errands and asked if I wanted to get back together again later. I said sure, if I slept. I went home to sleep after getting stuck in traffic that took me an hour to get through. I didn't sleep more than ten minutes. But, I went to his place again anyway. We watched Food network until Johnny texted letting me know he was home again. I left to go see Johnny.
J was depressed last night. He didn't act like the two nights before. I was getting sicker as the night dragged on. I tried not to let it show. We finally went to bed and after sex, a shaking fit started. I thought about leaving, even though I couldn't drive. I wasn't ready for him to see that side, not yet. But he held his arms out to me and held me while it died down. Soon I was laying on him and just praying to go to sleep, in pain.
I was supposed to call the university hospital today, but forgot it was Friday. So I'll call on Monday. More internal stuff to deal with.
I want to spend as much time with Johnny as I can right now because I can feel things happening that I can't explain yet. But I'm meeting up with him after practice tomorrow, before his show. A great sadness has crept over me as I write this. I think I'll ride with him and his drummer to help with the equipment loading/unloading process giving me a few more precious moments to just be near him. And then Sunday I will whisk myself away again to be apart. My life is changing again. I don't feel it in it's entirety yet, but I see it. And it's coming whether I want it or not.

Got up early to beat the ticket this morning and wrote my last blog. Then I finally slept a few hours. When I got up Jon called. We talked on the phone for 2 hours. We're gunna get together Sunday for dinner and to go over a script he's looking at to produce. Interesting to say the least. He's making his way over from San Francisco currently. I guess he's just gunna fly back to do VAST stuff, but he doesn't want to tour again for awhile. Makes sense. He's gunna stay in a hotel until Tuesday when he moves the stuff in his UHaul in. I may go help with that if he wants it.
We actually talked a lot more about me this time which I found interesting as well, because he seemed genuinely invested in what I was saying. I think maybe he'll come out once in awhile which would be cool. He also gave me the compliment I'm cool to drink with. I'm every one's fav drinking buddy I guess hehe. Minus the couple times I've been sloppy I know how to hang. But Jon's never seen that.

So since, I've been a homebody. Did dishes, laundry, went grocery shopping, cooked. I'm not done yet, but it's bed time and tomorrow will be busy. Guess I'll finish the chores on Monday when I'm home again. Til then.

Friday, September 4, 2009


I was just doing more research on Borderline again. Damn, there really is no escaping this fucking thing. Do you know one in ten off themselves? We will self destruct at the drop of the sentence "look what you've done."

You know, I never thought of myself as manipulative. Really, I figured the way situations happened was the way it was supposed to be and I'd cope. Sometimes badly.
But I was thinking about when I was cutting, and I guess deep down at my core (though you never could have convinced me then) I was being manipulative in that. Let me explain.
When my mom would yell, and demand, and punish, and then eventually push me, or shake me, or something, I used to beg her not to. I'd scream "don't touch me!" She would watch as I collapsed on the floor crying. I would try to yell over her sometimes, just to be heard. That was an impossible feat though. The worst always came when she'd be pushed to the brink of hurting me physically.
Then, after my soul had been worn down and destroyed after another episode with her I'd retreat to my room and punish myself further with a razor. Why? I was fucking angry, and frustrated that there was nothing I could do. She wouldn't change, or listen. She didn't see at the core how every time that happened, she broke me a little further, until I became so useless. Self esteem zero. Motivation gone. I lived in constant fear of setting her off. I remember laying in my bed at night barely breathing, listening if she would come upstairs to flip my light off, grab me out of bed and make me clean something I'd forgotten, or hadn't done well.

I heard from my Dad a couple weeks ago that his mother, my grandmother, used to say she worried for me because she felt I was playing the child's role in Mommy Dearest. I never got beat with wire hangers... But the movie is a bit too close for comfort just the same.

Anyway, I realized I had no way of controlling what was happening to me at that point, so when I cut I think I secretly hoped she'd see and realize what she was really doing to me on the inside, come crying to me, apologize. We'd have a grand scene and then we'd be fixed. But of course this never happened. This was teenage fantasy. But I was trying to manipulate my mother in the only way I could see could work: seeing her child in pain. Instead she told me I was an embarrassment, and I needed to stop it. It took her years to find out though. Even though I would sleep with the skin exposed, or wear the wrong shirt on occasion.

Do I manipulate people like that now? Last time I did it was the week Chris and I broke up. He'd denied my feelings once AGAIN about Jae Cee. We'd gotten into a large blow out over everything it seemed. He used to say he couldn't predict what would set me off. Well, in that relationship there were a couple sure fire things. Cheating, and then lying to my face about the cheating I knew was happening. I was getting ready to leave for Portland the next couple days. I knew when I left, our engagement, our future, and my life would be over. This was the last straw. And he didn't acknowledge it. He belittled me and all I felt, so I waited while he cooled off on his walk in my bathroom. Then I grabbed the razor almost without thinking and went to work. He came back sooner than expected and caught my arm a bloody mess.
Yes, this is horrible. Yes I'm ashamed to admit it. But at least at that point he knew. And I knew that he would go, and that would seal it. I had manipulated the situation into the exact opposite of what I wanted.
I wanted him to care. To love me as I loved him. Instead he turned and left me there in the most shattered mental state of my life. I drank a bottle of Kahlua and another of whiskey.

I imagined in my mind how that could have gone differently. What I wish he'd said or done. Wished I didn't need so desperately to be around him at that point so I could have taken a step back from it all and realized just what the fuck was going on. I was never going to win. Never. I couldn't have tried any harder with him to make it work. I really believe that. Or I never would have let the cheating come to pass, and forgiven it time and time again. For what? Empty promises and long nights waiting on him to never even show. A pregnancy he took no responsibility for. All the doubts and fears and that were completely valid. What the hell was I thinking? I wasn't. I was in love.

I took too many ibuprofen and called a suicide line. They didn't help. I finished off another couple pills and laid down. I was ready to die. I had nothing left.
Needless to say I didn't die. I had a REALLY bad stomach ache the next couple days though. And a hangover. And I'd lost the person in the world I cared for most. Who literally, did not care if I lived or died.

So yes, I guess as a last ditch effort in certain situations, the cutting is a manipulation tactic, if we want to be completely honest and fair. Though without the explanation it comes of just sounding like, well, instability. Which there is sometimes.

I've cut since, of course, but with no other motivation I can clearly see other than the purpose of habit. Or personal pain from things I've done (likely accidentally) to myself. But the last serious episode, again, was last October. I'm almost a year in now... Am I getting better? I wonder for many reasons...

Sometimes, even though my mom is really trying to have a better relationship with me these days- I hate her. And I hate her, because I blame her for what I deal with everyday now. Could she REALLY not see what was happening at the time and how it shaped me? When my therapists have tried approaching the topic of abuse with her she always says "that's crazy, because she was never abused. I always loved her very much."
I denied it was abuse too. I defended her. But eventually I had to come to terms with the fact you shouldn't shake your child. Or scream (I mean it when I say scream. Not yell.) Or push. Or intimidate in that fashion. Would I do that stuff to someone I love? Never.

You may ask where my Dad was in all of this? Staying out of it. Because while Mom could never do the things to Dad she did to me, she made his life hell in other ways. And getting involved in mom's and my fights was a sure fire way to bring down her wrath. I don't blame him for looking out for himself. I wished he'd intervene sometimes. I wanted him to take my side, but he rarely did. Whenever we talk about stuff like this he always apologizes and says he wishes he hadn't been such a coward. I always say I'm just lucky to have a dad that was in my life, and saved it by moving us here after everything went to pot.

Sometimes I feel like a receptacle for all the bad that can happen in life. I feel if it's a bad situation, it's happened to me. Or will even sometimes. I guess I feel that way a little today. What sent me into this spiral of analyzing is almost trivial I'll bet you'd say.
Some idiot parked me into my space in Seattle. I maneuvered skillfully out of the space, except I tapped the guy behind me, on his bumper. The idiot had his car alarm on which sounded, and while I looked for damage and saw none I drove off feeling sick, like I had done really wrong and I was going to be in trouble. I've NEVER done that before man. I was literally squashed in there. So I hope it's all good, really, but it made me feel like shit. That alarm was fucking noisy and sounded like a cop siren. And the more I think about cops, the more I think I'm traumatized by the siren, the lights... The officers themselves. Dude, I shake sometimes when I think about it. If that isn't ptsd what is? So I drove off shaking like a leaf thinking "I have just set the tone for the day."

And now I need sleep badly. I was up for 2 days yesterday. I will write more of that in another entry, but I was really sick yesterday from not sleeping. And I didn't until I went to bed with J at 4am. Which was running on 43 or so hours no shut eye. I got 3 hours there. Then the incident happened, and now I'm home trying to work through it so I can get to sleep. The neighbors make that almost impossible, and have contributed greatly to the detriment.

How many more years, if I spend them on introspection, will it take for me to be healed? To be free of this curse? Or will I never be free and be the ten percent that it taken by the disorder?
I am self destructing even now, in situations. I can't stop. I am hell bent on my demise I think sometimes. Those who do not learn from their pasts are doomed to repeat it. I am doomed to continue to repeat situations until I work them out in my head. So, I gotta be faster. Thus, this blog. In some ways I am better. Many ways. But not enough to be satisfied with the parts I can't change yet.
No matter what I change, or how I improve, I can't change what's happened to me in my past and that's the part that will come up to haunt me. Because I can't erase the memories that made my illness. Nor the feelings they left. And the days when I can recall every bad thing in a matter of seconds, one of those days will be the next problem day. But I'm running from that for as long as possible.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Cryptic Drama

I used to be the kind of person where if something was wrong, you would look at me and know. I had a hard time not letting people in on my emotions. I wanted to talk things out, and have people understand. Now I'm only motivated to do that if I feel like someone has me pegged wrong.

This is interesting to me because we Borderlines are supposed to be dramatic people. I go out of my way to keep my life drama free these days. However, if you looked under the surface of my mellow demeanor you would see drama the last week. Why isn't important right now, but I am dealing with some stuff internally that's going on in my head. I lay down to sleep the last 2 nights and Ive thought about 2 things. They're not bad. They're not scary. They just are. And they must be dealt with shortly. But nobody knows about them. And I'm not going to share them yet. It's manifested in dreams and the outcome of that dream is one I wouldn't have expected. I think I'm apprehensive, but I haven't shown that to anyone. Nor have I shown the other emotions inside. Thus, the point being, keeping the drama out of my life and just in my head. I hope my friends would thank me for that. If it got unbearable I'd tell Bev though.

Meanwhile I ran out of pills 2 nights ago. We're into hell week. But, I'm seriously trying to do this little trick where I clear my mind by telling myself there's no reason to stress over the not sleeping. I visualize my brain being lighter. I shit you not: It helped. Not enough that it wasn't irritating or 'holy God I'm cured and can quit taking pills!' but Ill take what I can get. Weird visual to help, isnt it? I get pills again on the 7th. I always get excited on the 4th, but its the 7th. This month would be new Xanax too, but Im holding off believe it or not. Trying to make it a necessity to go in again. Which is still hangover from my Mother always telling me I wasnt sick when I was. So, I'll wait til the headaches get bad or I get a new symptom or something.

You know what irritates me? When people tell me how I feel. Or assume they know. I know me better than anyone.
Something else I've come to realize the last little while is I have become a chamelion as well. Being what people need me to be in our relationship. I mean, I'm still me granted, but if someone has a bit more abrasive personality I get abrasive too. Or someone sweet, I am that. Is this why they call us mirrors? I want people to see me as certain things I believe I am at my core. A musician, adventurous, even a bit impulsive or reckless because I'd rather be those than ordinary or boring. But I think people are lacking pieces of the fundemental me lately. And it's not their fault, it's mine. But I want people to see the crazy dirty parts sometimes. Not all the time mind you. I haven't really fallen apart in front of anyone or been just a mess since Chris. I won't let myself. And the things I've dealt with since Ive gotten to Seattle are all very private things I've internalized. Yet, I've been great about not cutting. I really feel I've grown in that. My arm is completely healed again, from that bogus night of doing it on ambien unconscious.

Things in my life are still good man. Please don't take the drama as bad stuff. And don't take the chamelion thing wrong either. I'm still me, just the me that you need most of the time.
I'm tired as hell. I hope that means I can go to sleep now. I wish I weren't sleeping alone tonight.