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About this blog

My pain and dilemmas. All deserved for all of the pain I have caused.

Photo found on lonerwolf.com

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I guess it makes me a bad person

Maybe i dont really love him. Is it wrong to have slight hope that he dies before i do, just so that i can live in some sort of peace? Age 50, 80  110...no matter how short lived it is...just some peace in life. Not being accused of making big deals out of things that oh i am sorry....things i find concerning about our daughter.  Making mountains out of nothing eh? Sure just brush it off. Shrug and wipe your hands. Then when her issues get bad you can blame me for that too.





The door slams

Its quiet
Now that you've shut that hole

I don't think I'm supposed to he ok with all of this
But this way I don't have to kiss your ass
I just wait and hear
The silence pass

I wait for the chaos
The noise
Like thunder cutting the sky
To once again rain down on me

But no refreshing or cleansing water
Comes in your world
There is no such thing in the
world you are God of

But...you fail to remember
or did you ever realize --
I am not and never was your Eve





Melody Of Loss

Melody Of Loss Notes crack. Shrill and broken. Out of tune and necessary.

But you're singing it wrong.

A broken record. Scratches that whine. Skips and repeated lyrics.

But you're listening to your playlist.

Harmonious, no more. Dissonance preferred. No resolving chord in sight.

But you're tone deaf anyway.

I forgot that the honeymoon is over. But never did I think you were singing a different song.





I Such a big word.

I know.
I am the problem.
I am a bad wife
I am a bad housewife.

(Wait a minute.)

I work too.

I know my job isn't that important in your opinion.

I like to think that
I make a difference

(at least)

I know
I know you say your job is so stressful
I believe you.
I dont need you to tell me  based on premise and statistics and
I welcome you talking about it
I know you need to let it out
I know you need to but

I don't deserve you negating my own stress like
I am not special enough to feel

I know

I am the problem
I am the reason we have issues and
I am not allowed to have issues

(But I do)


Such a big word


i know
i know you like it when

i feel so small






Fertility One cant expect
a seed to grow
without rich soil
And spacious rows

The water and sun,
They have their place
In order to create
A vibrant face

One must nurture
the plant to breed
and if they're lucky
They'll get one seed

If one looks more closely
(Using vision that they lack)
The seed, half dead, too tiny,
With a monstrous crack

The flower is pretty
It has its needs
One must be willing
To give, to feed

But MY flower, my flower

No seeds to make
No seeds to take
No seeds to plant
Or more flowers to breathtake

Here is my reality
I will never truly see
that Nature's rhythm, tone and song
wont be here for very long

Tick tock goes the sun
The flower, once pretty

But now

It dies and dies
And dies again




Winds of Hell

The wind is howling through the trees and my ears. I smell it like a bee smells the Lavender, and I am afraid it will take me away like seeds of the Dandelion.  Only the seeds land on infertile soil. They die as my inner hurricane rushes through, breathing its hate into all of my thoughts. No control. Just chaos. That voice constantly tells me things, as the memories gust through common sense. The things no one would understand. But I do. And I act accordingly. Hurting, hurting. Wilting. Dying. Fly Dorothy, fly.      





*snip* And i really miss the bed.  Im so alone at night. The living room is calm, quiet... ...and DEAD. *snip* Edit: im actually about to lose it.




The Couch

Never thought it would be me. Its definitely not traditional. But then we have never been the Common Bunch. It really is comfortable for the most part. I am a little tall. But it works. I remember the first time. The door shut. Without a word. It was the plan. And i knew it was good for him. It was a need. But a fight had taken place earlier. And the silence was deafening. Time has gone on. I cant really remember how long it has been. I think maybe a week. Maybe? Last night was harder for some reason. I got a "Good night Dork." (Ah pet names)...And the door then shut audibly. It was like the first time but more difficult as we werent fighting. Its pretty stabilized. But i miss the bed. Even a request for it  tonight was met with his comment of taking It then. No. I wont do it that way. Is this how it is going to go? How long will i miss it? How long before i forget what it is like?




What a waste

And I sat.
I stood.
I paced.

I sat.

I looked at the online menu.

I panicked.

Its painful.

I guess it's like stealing.



It would be seen that way.

Fear. Fear that I'd be found out. Even though I have good intentions to pay back.

But it's like a vacation. There'd be nothing to show for it. A waste of money. A waste of time. Just like sex. Sex without the intent to create life.


And more fat.

Its all just a memory.

So I sat.

Imagine looking at a menu - causing panic, grief, and fear.

I am short of breath.

Fear of losing everything.

Fear that I  would never make it on my own.

The phone is in my hand.

I hang up.

The other menu requires a login to view.

A sign?

I stood.

I paced.

I ate cereal. Too much.



I don't know where I'd be if I wasn't here.






Fun You still don't see do you?
You only see red
But I don't bleed that way, it's true
Instead it's fat and flesh

You will though
Maybe it will be too late
And then you'll know
YOU sealed my fate

Are we having fun yet?

Slivers from your eyes
Invisible silence
Stabbing my blue skies
Causing my defiance

The physical pain
Just to sit down
Keeps me sane
As I drown

Fun, eh?

Black holes of starvation
Consume me for my life
They swallow me and when done
Eat me from inside

My muscles shrink
My organs dilapidate
All I can do is think
Just think and wait

to see your face...that will be fun.





Enough You haven't noticed. Have You? It's just as well. Because then you can't stop me. Or I should say you won't stop me.

Progress is bliss.

There are a lot of Cans in this scenario. You choose the blind eye. Ok. I'll show you. You'll see without vision.

And then you will know.

You'll know how much I suffer. How much of it is rooted from you. How much this will hurt. Damn yes it's going to hurt.

The one thing you won't understand is why...you want to know why?

I can't control you, obviously. I can't control how you feel. I can't control how you react to me.  What I can control is what goes in my mouth. So before you continue to force feed me with your bulls*** and shove your spiteful guilt paté down my throat...just don't bother.

It wont stay down. I've had enough. And I will BE enough on my own FOR my own.

I'm cleaning house now. So go ahead and don't see. I'll wither to nothing.

And then I'll be free.





Drink up, B*itch Guilt trip
Guilt trip
Your age old cocktail
that you sip

And spit in my face
The words of hate
I know I'm your hell
As you wait at its gate

And you kick it down
My white picket fence
No chance for me
I was so dense

To believe that I was
Someone that you loved
But I am you believe
Someone you are above

Yes I am so small
We know only in mind
My body's a story
That I'll leave behind

As I prepare for my punishment
You'd prefer to give
And I know that it harms me
But I don't deserve to live

The life you have given
Including your control
That takes hold of me
And k*lls my soul

That no longer soars
But then there's something
That *I* can control
And then I can sing

A song so deceiving
A mask that I wear
As I waste away
And you won't really care

But you soon will grieve
Once I leave
In my skeleton corpse
I know it is warped

That road that you take
Hypocrite boulevard
Don't you worry now
I'll let down my guard

As your cocktail I'll sip
I'll choke on my dreams
As you continue your crap
Guilt trip
Guilt trip






Its happening again. Again! I should never have done it. I will be guilt ridden the rest of my life but i think thats not enough apparently. Its happening again.  




My West Side Story

I don't want to prepare myself for something big here and plummet in disappointment but I feel like Tony in West Side Story right now. Before he meets Maria and he thinks something big is coming.

 Is it just blind Hope?

 It's in the pit of my stomach right now.

 I have no idea what it could be, but i am sure it will have nothing to do with what I want or what I'm expecting if something comes to mind (the lottery for example...man that would cover both things...guess I've jinxed that possibility).

I just know something is going to happen. Something that's good. Something amazing. Something really big.

I was disappointed in the results of my performance last night but not with my actual performance. I am not sure why I am adding that to this post. I do not think that anything is related but feel the need to mention it. So, maybe they ARE related.

Something huge. Its coming. It's something I know. It's like a fact without empirical evidence. You know? Faith?

Does anyone know what I am talking about? Am I off my rocker? Am I giving myself false hope?

Something. Big. Great. Fantastic.

But at what cost? West Side Story script and song: Riff: You found somethin' better?

Tony: Not yet, but-- Riff: But what? Tony: You won't dig it, Riff.

Riff: So try me. Come on, Tony. Try me.

Tony: Okay. Every single night for the last month... l wake up, and l'm reachin' out.

Riff: Well, for what?

Tony: l don't know.

Riff: A dame?

Tony: lt's right outside the door, just around the corner... but it's comin'.

Riff: What is? Tony: l don't know. lt's like the kick l used to get from bein' a Jet.

Riff: Well, now you're talkin'. 

*snipped a portion*

Riff: l never asked nothin' from nobody. But l'm askin' you, come to the dance tonight.

Tony: *snip* ...and l'll live to regret this.

Riff: Who knows? Maybe what you're waitin' for will be twitchin' at the dance tonight. Who knows?

Tony (singing):

Could be
Who knows
There's something due any day
I will know right away
Soon as it shows
lt may come cannonballin' down through the sky, gleam in its eye
Bright as a rose

Who knows
It's only just out of reach
Down the block, on a beach
Under a tree
l got a feelin' there's a miracle due gonna come true
Comin' to me

Could it be
Yes, it could
Something's comin' something good
lf l can wait

Something's comin'
I don't know what it is
But it is gonna be great

With a click with a shock
Phone will jingle door will knock
Open the latch
Something's comin' Don't know when, but it's soon
Catch the moon
One-handed catch
Around the corner
Or whistlin' down the river
Come on, deliver
To me

Will it be Yes, it will
Maybe just by holdin' still
lt'll be there

Come on, somethin'
Come on in,
don't be shy
Meet a guy
Pull up a chair

The air is hummin'
And somethin' great
ls comin'
It's only just out of reach
Down the block, on a beach
Maybe tonight




Poetry Slam #3

A little disappointed but....stronger now. One more on my belt. Soooo many compliments...people freaked out yet i didnt place. One person started talking to me at the end, cutting someone else off. It was overwhelming but good. He said he was surprised i didnt make into the top two to fight for 1st. He said "i dont know what happened there." But...the organizer taught me something tonight. He said i dont trust myself still. (I didnt know what he meant at that time.) And i shouldnt worry about what others think. That if i can go to bed tonight and feel good about what i did tonight then thats what should rule my world. He worded it differently of course. So gone are my feelings of not good enough. They didnt like it. It doesnt matter. I wrote a kick ass piece. I performed it. It felt good and i still feel good.  The praise was nice of course but not a requirement. I can move forward from here. I learned a valuable life lesson. And thats what counts.




"You've Had Enough Food."

“You’ve had enough food.” Those were the words that stung the most. You know…KNOW I have issues with food whether it is to take in all I can or restrict it to barely anything. And for a few years it’s been putting as much as I can in to make up for all of those years of a restrict/binge/purge (though non-traditionally) cycle. My body wants it all. All it can get. I don’t know of a middle ground. Back up shall we? <“Happy Birthday, my sweet!’ I know you have been looking forward to this for a very long time! The day is finally here. Time to get ready for your birthday breakfast.> Maybe that should have been the way things went this morning. You were so grouchy because the restaurant we are taking her to for breakfast doesn’t have the item you liked and wanted. I’m sorry, but you have GOT to let it go and move on. Don’t ruin everyone else’s time. I get it, I really do, but there is nothing you can do about it. Moping changes nothing. Then I made the mistake of telling you in a slight panic that I really need gas and didn’t’ realize until I was on my way home yesterday. “You know that less than quarter of a tank is bad for it, right?” Yes. Yes I know. This is why I’m telling you. I AM WORRIED ABOUT IT. Because you give me s hit for it. And God, can we just move on? Do you have to guilt me into an ‘I can’t do anything right state?’ No that can’t be it. We are on our way to something we have been looking forward to for weeks. “Boy you sure hug the left side of the lane don’t you?” Sigh. Yeah, I’m in my lane. What of it. I know better though so I bite my tongue. “So what’s the story on the oil change appointment?” Crap I still haven’t done this. “You know it’s not something you can put off, right?” “Wow, you’re practically on the shoulder.” Oh my god can you just get off my case? THIS is why I asked if we were taking your car. I HATE DRIVING! YOU HAVE TAKEN AWAY ANY JOY THAT EVER EXISTED FOR THAT IF I EVER HAD ANY AT ALL. I need you to check what cross street we have to go to. I didn’t think to check beforehand since we rarely go to Denny’s. “Something you should have done before we left.” Sigh. Complain complain and complain some more. Wouldn’t a solution be better? Oh! You DO have your phone here (as you take it out of the glovebox). “Yes I do. Of course I do.” Good you can check it for the cross street. “No I can’t. You’re the one with the data plan.” Oh sweet Jesus. Sweetie, can you get Mommy’s phone out and give it to Daddy? “OMG why do you have everything turned off? No location, no anything?” Oh I don’t know, because I’m not lazy to the point of being unable to type in <restaurant name, city name, address> “Ok, so you have to turn back, it’s the other way.” Driving along. “See, Mommy now has to make left hand turns all through rush hour.” As if we really live anywhere that has a true rush hour anyway. FFS “Sigh. I hate that we have to turn left on a non-advance street.” I’m finally not staying silent. “Well, it has to be this way now, it’s the solution to the problem and now we need to move forward.” “Well this could have been completely avoided. We get to the restaurant and you’re still thinking about the stupid menu item and you have come to the conclusion (as if it fixes anything at all) that it was a different breakfast place we rarely go to. WHO THE F*** CARES ANYMORE?????????? MOVE THE F*** ON! Difficult for you to choose a menu item now I know. Let’s focus on why we are here, not the problems. Poor kid. Orders are taken except for yours. You order your thing and the waitress says they are out. Now you are defeated. You order toast rudely. Sweetie and I enjoy our delicious breakfasts. As usual I’m eating too much. I really can’t help myself. I realize I’m not into sourdough bread anymore. My daughter and I talk about how it might have changed over the last 15 years since I’ve had it…it just seems too strong now. I finish everything else and he asks her if she will finish her food and no she answers she won’t (toast and hash browns leftover). He looks at her disapproving. Oh good job, give HER food issues. She’s 12 you know. I said I’d take it so it didn’t go to waste since he hates wasting food and money paid for food. I wouldn’t mind some more hash browns myself. “You’ve had enough food.”  As you take it away for yourself. Like I’ve been slapped in the face. Like I’ve been kicked in the gut. All the blood rushing to my fat hot cheeks. Eyes glazing over. Mind reeling. Voices squawking. Light headed. Out of breath. I can hear my blood flowing. Hear my heart racing. Where I am normally hyper aware of the sounds smells etc of my surroundings, it all closed, all silenced except internally. I’ve had enough food. Yes. Wiped my mouth. Fork and knife on the plate. Napkin over top. Allowed myself one more sip of coffee. I’m done. “Mommy and I were thinking of going to Restaurant C but Mommy thought you wouldn’t like it there.” You eat and then have the gall to ask me what’s wrong. Really? I’ve had enough food.




Sharing Poetry

Omg could you be any more unappreciative of something i wrote? You are my husband and i chose to share something i wrote for our daughter a a life lesson. And you focus on the whole point of what this poem is NOT.  Insensitive ass




Why are you doing this?

I cant be what you want me to be. I wasnt when you met me and i was good enough for you then. Why are you trying to change me? I cant be changed. Im not perfect. Believe me, ive tried. When i was growing up i came close in a lot of ways. Even in some of the ways you deem important. But my dear, i gave up on that long before i met you. Now i have other s hit to deal with on top of not measuring up to your standards. Its actually s hit ive always had going on but it wasnt as big a deal before. I actually felt like it was all good. Ah but a friend who actually understands recently told me it was all not normal. They are right. But at the time i didnt know it and neither did you. So now it is slapping you in the face but buddy...this isnt new. So get over yourself and deal with your own faults before you make us feel like we are pieces of s hit that came out of your glorified ass.






Your crystal stars
The small universe to me,

A part of your essence
No troubled waters
Just calm music

The snow trickling
Into your rush
Towards the stagnant pool behind me

My hiking boots
Removal, essential
Required in the cold


Too cold for this
But it is time
Even if Spring is late, not coming
The Spring of rejuvenation comes to me

I'm finally ready to climb, to fly
Despite the run-off
You, Nature
My escape

People, no longer the focus
Up to your peak
My mountain and saviour

No more metaphorical personalities
Just you
For me
Our connection, Nature


Challenge my agility
My movements in sync
Over your majestic ridge

Swallow me whole
As I disappear in altitude
My reward is my solitude

Higher streams,
More stars to me

In the past,
You knew I wasn't ready
To become. With you.

No more confusion
Only Nature
And you, my mountain

No longer
You were here all along and I'm

Finally my freedom
My arms up, cool breeze I'm

The sun, my fire
The Storm, my mind

I was the one
The key to the lock
My freedom imprisoned

My mountain
But I couldn't hear, wasn't

You, my mountain, my friend
No more deception
No more me

Just you
For the true me
My Mountain







In The Dark

Trigger Warning                                         It was uncomfortable. The Overture didn't give a hint of this. It actually hurt. I was surprised. I didn't move my hands after the firm "No."  I couldn't anyway. I was confused. I wasnt sure if you were serious or playing. It sure didnt feel like play. And then you went back to normal. And i was relieved.  Entr'acte; it didnt last long. Because then came the strange accusation, not of anything that i had done, but something that was a part of some weird role you were playing. In a theatre of domination.  And an insult. Confusion. The scent of you. Stronger than it has ever projected. Its echo ringing in my mind as i watch from the corner seat in the last row. I am still confused. Not knowing how to interpret the Artistic Presentation from the Director's Cut. Did i misunderstand?  And in my mind it plays again and again. I know I did nothing different. I know I did nothing. If this is how it will be moving forward, I think I will lose interest forever. And fast. Discard the Program and Souvenir Book. Go back to waiting for my Diagnosis, a fitting Finale. I never claimed to be an actress. And I never auditioned. So how am I in this position, waiting for the reviews?  I hope there is never a revival performance.




Who's Fault: Your fault, your fault, your fault, MY fault

You know it might just be genetic. My dad showed signs of SOMETHING. my mom too. My eldest sister is diagnosed with some kind of anxiety that ive never heard of but maybe thats induced by 45 years of drug addiction. I dont know. Oh yeah addiction runs in my family. Mostly alcoholism. But opiates seem to be next in line with how many family members were affected and after that are the hard ups.  It could be my dad...growing up terrified of making him mad. The way he used to threaten my behaviour at dinner by loosening his belt with anger all over his face. Other times being chased by him into my room, belt in hand, the terror i experienced the realization that i was cornered with nowhere to escape to...it was sheer terror and i remember it all too clearly. Then the feeling of the strikes. Afraid of being yelled at.  Verbal abuse. But he struggled wirh addiction. Opiates and alcohol. So i guess its not really his fault right? It could have been her. Mom. The wooden spoon spankings. God did that sting for something so small. The children should be seen not heard mentality. The yelling. The shut ups when defending myself. Asking me which i liked better when buying clothes at the biway (god i was an outcast for that one)...listening to my choice and then saying but wouldnt you like the other one instead? Why did you ask Mom? Always choosing wrong. To this day i have a difficult time with decision making. Choosing wrong almost every time. Anxious as i wait to find out. My eldest sister. Mean. What a mean girl she was. But i guess that was addiction right? So i should say its not her fault. My middle sister. The good one. Oh she had her moments too. Blaming me for things i didnt do. Crying i pleaded with her to believe me but she wouldnt budge. Her meaness when she said, "pop another pill Natasha!" As she referred to my prescriprions for what was for depression at the time. How she treated me in the evenings as she questioned me and yelled at me as our father lay dying in the living room...questioning how good of a job i was doing when she didnt know...oh she didnt know what was involved and how difficult it was...how painful it was to see him lose his dignity as he knew his 39 year old daughter did everything needed with his wife...a 39 year old daughter seeing things and doing things that he would think ideally never would or even should. No she got the easy s hit. Reading to him and giving him head massages and talking to him. Making him proud of her as she showed him on paper what her new income was going to be as if to flaunt it in front of me. Then proceed to tell me that im doing a bad job. All the while he can hear it all when the point of palliative care at home is to create a non stressful and quiet environment. Maybe it was my head injury. For many years this never dawned on me. Falling off my bike at age 11 during a time when no one wore helmets, hell i dont even think they existed...they probably did but no one wore one. Falling off that bike banging my head on the road...unconscious...seuzures...waking up in the hospital 4 hours later. What kind of damage did i do? Was that it? Was it the constant bullying at school? At least it wasnt physical. Words hurt enough though. Rallying the whole class against me hurt too. A lot. How would my life be different without all of these things. Or even if it was one less thing?  Or maybe itd be different if i wasnt so stupid?  Who's fault is it? My fault my fault my fault.




Your dinner tastes like crap anyway

"What really gets to me is you dont even see dirt."

Funny thing even if i did my cleaning job would never be good enough.

Funny thing: i used to obsess about cleaning last spring when i was all manic as well in the past. But you shot me down didnt you?

The real funny thing? Well *i* dont think its funny. Im not well enough to handle doing it.

You are grossed out that i don't shower? You think thats because i dont care about you? You think i dont clean and leave my messes because i disrespect you?

Do you have any idea what it is that i go through every day? And on top of all that i have to deal with you. And be worried about you being overworked. You're going to crash.

But i cant take the constant criticism. One thing after another. And more.

And now you arent letting me know dinner is ready. Nice. Tell our child but not me. You d**k.

 Maybe i should have made it like a good little wife. Yes that's true. But don't forget I am an a******. You've called me that countless times. Oh you deny it. Yeah I get it. It's all about you being self righteous. And I forgot it's all about you.

Don't worry. I'll go back to being my obsessive self. So then you can complain about me doing too much. Spring is coming anyway I just need to tough it out. I guess I'll have to deal with it from overexercising since a place that helped me in the past is not safe for me anyway. I don't need external sources. I do it all so well on my own. I'm a pro.

I guess there's always my go to as well. Therapist says I've done so well since haven't harmed myself in months. But you drive me to it sometimes. Sometimes I just do it because I'm stupid. Half the time you make me feel stupid. And worthless. And ugly. Inside and out. And away I go.

Oh if only you knew. You'd be shocked wouldn't You? Actually you wouldn't give two s hits.

I'm used to people not giving a s hit. Especially lately.

So guess what? You're not that special are you?





Get a good look?

Trigger warning for anyone with an ED.                       Now You. I have already complained about another You today. And now You. Yeah I am binging ok? Go enjoy your one piece of pepperoni pizza. Don't look at me. Its none of your business and your eyes are not welcome. You stick with yours and ill eat my mountain. Who gives you the right anyway? And you. F*** you. Dont you have your own s*** to do and deal with? I suppose its so easy to be you that you have to judge others. And another one.  STOP LOOKING AT ME!!!!!!!! wolf it all down. Thats right you sack of s***. Wash it down with some more pepsi and be on your way to the next part.  Oh you...staring as you walk by. Are you finished? I wouldnt know since you left your tray there for someone else to take care of for you. I bet you are one of those elderlies that expect everyone to do everything for you when you are perfectly capable. Or everyone should give things up for you. Like complaining to coffee shops staff that i stole your table. As if. I was just there first. What are you sporting? A cup of coffee? Well im having lunch. I actually need a table. At least the staff member just shrugged at you. Lol. But that wasnt today so im off topic. Must be nice to have someone clean up after you. Elitist eh? Yeah i know a few like you. Ah the tray return centre lady. You have a smile and a thank you for the kid who i admit was very cute returning his tray. Ah but one look at me and you start scowling. At least you thanked me too...id just assume getting nothing to be honest...be sincere you twat. On to the next stop...Cinnzeo. yeah you might as well give me everything you got. I cant stop. Another guy watching me. At this point i cant give two s***s. Just stuffing it all in. Even through the pain. Stuff my mouth full. Pushing more in. I can barely fit more in there. Just a small one today. At least im stopping now. Plan was two other places. Tears. Worthless. Fat. Getting fatter. More debt. Husband will leave the next time i rack up another card. Guaranteed. He meant it when he said it. DBT is over for me soon. I supposedly graduate. How can i possibly make it without when i cant even deal during? Oh god then i was choking. On pepsi lol. Ironic after all ive inhaled in my huge mouth just now. Thoughts of restricting. Overexercising. No no no i cant go back there. But the binges have been regular for a few months. I have to counteract it. I cant do what normal people do. Why cant i get my s*** together? 




No Day But Today

"Are you coming in with me mommy?"

"No sweetie I'm just going to drop you off. You'll be fine."

Should I have gone in with her? Am I missing life? Is she? I was taking her to drop in basketball at school and the supervising teacher is lovely and said I could join in when I went in the first time. She even said I could help.

But I declined when my daughter asked me. I can't tell at this point if she was disappointed. One day she will want nothing to do with me right? So why am I pushing away?

And God damn it I don't want to just live. I want to be alive! Why can't I just be alive? Live in the moment? I'm present in each moment irl now and that is helpful but it's not enough. There is something...a missing piece. Im not truly alive in those moments. It seems like it would be different.

And missing...it's not a person or a thing. In the past I thought so. It's true that I don't really have friends so it could be seen as that's it, but I know it's not. There is a missing piece and it's in me.

I'm not whole.

Numb. I dont want to be. I want life. I want it flowing through me. Not just a fact. I want to feel it. Im so over the pain, the numbness, the invalidation.

I need the flow of life, love and colour

"There's only us, there's only this
Forget regret, or life is your's to miss
No other path, no other way
No day but today" (Rent)

Life, vibrancy...where do these things come from? It's going to come from me and I will make sure of that.  I am not hard. I am not condescending. I am not hateful. I am not arrogant. I am not a fact. I am Me.  I am alive. I am colour. Living with spring air that flows through my veins. I am Life. I have given it to others. I will give more to my daughter. And together we will soar. All of us.




In Daylight, In Sunsets...

I feel like omg I have at least 25 more years to go. Maybe more. Maybe many more.

 Even when things are good, I feel good or just have general thoughts of "its all ok it's going to be ok"...all I can think is omg I have 25+ years left.

Yet I don't want to d**

I still feel a level of suffering. Even though I know I am not truly suffering. I can't just live life like normal people looking for the good things.

 It's like I'm wasting away in a prison with a life sentence. And I know it's not like that. But it is. Does that even make sense? I have no idea what it's like to be in prison and I don't want to find out.

I have no motivation or I should say short spurts of all or nothing takes place. Lately its mostly nothing.

It's morning now. I'm going to bed again when kid is on the bus for school. I will probably sleep for 2 to 4 hours. Closer to 4 is likely. I just want to go to bed all of the time. I sleep all night most nights now. I used to sleep very little. Had a sleep study done and nothing came of it. But that was for different reasons.

If asked what my mood is I'd say it's whatever. I don't feel like I'm depressed or at least it doesn't feel like much. I'm not convinced it's anhedonia...or maybe I don't understand truly what that is.

Meds... I'm on a cocktail that pharmacists insist on talking to me over and over again that the mix and dosages are dangerous and can k*** me. Sometimes they want to also call my psychiatrist to confirm he knows what he is doing.

Before i talk to my doctor i guess I should wait until spring. It could just be the season.

 I've joined an association for something am passionate about. Passion? Does that even make sense? This is so confusing. My husband doesn't think I should get involved in being on the board of directors because I can't even keep the kitchen clean let alone the rest of the house. If he only knew what the house would be like if he wasn't here. But yeah I'm getting off topic.

Basically, I don't have time because I waste a lot of it sleeping or online or both. I guess I'm not totally wasting time online as I'm told I help people so if thats true not all is lost.

There is a huge windstorm outside now.
Feels like my brain.