here's a post that shows the true depths of my confusion.

when someone is overtaken by any kind of addiction, they become false. They might phrase that state differently. "my demon." "my worst side." "my evil twin." whatever you wanna call it, it's a false self, a false life, driven by something so removed from who we truly are. that's the definition of fake- living a life where i didn't hold the reins. repeatedly letting people do horrible things to me, and lying about all of it, so i could keep up a facade. when the justifications and rationalizations and suppressed feelings were exposed, the pain of the truth nearly killed me, a couple times over. but i chose that path, because i wanted to be honest. i wanted to be real.

and recovery is about being real. being honest, getting to the heart of the matter, being yourself. no more lies, no more stories to have to keep track of. no more incongruence between words and actions. there are many beautiful things about this process, but a lot of shitty parts too. . . and sometimes i think it's too awful to be worth it. alternately too painful, too boring, too neutered. . . it doesn't feel right. when i think of being "real", i remember moments of feeling electrified by life and my existence. listening to music, a first kiss or touch, certain textures, bright colors, rebellion, the beauty of nature, the shock of a beautiful voice. i guess i think life should be a rock and roll ride through the countryside that makes tears pop into your eyes every so often because you're fucking happy. and yeah bad shit happens, but you can navigate through. you will be ok because you're "really living." you're dealing with shit as it happens, and not hiding from it. and it becomes part of the journey.

true reality and life feels stifled and trapped, afraid and lost. but on the other hand, i don't think i've had a moment of true peace in my entire life without the aid of drugs and/or alcohol and/or sex. so how the hell would i know what is real? it is all perception? is it about appreciating the fucking "little things" in life, or is that just a distraction from how miserable i am?

my recovery from a lifetime of abuse, mental illness, and trauma is exhausting, even all these years later. i'm tearing apart the meaning of words like "real" in a fucking blog. i'm trying to live the best i can, but i feel so fragmented. i think it's because i did everything i was supposed to. i got a good job, a good man, a nice home. all things i wanted and still want. but i think i was so committed to leaving behind the old life that i lost some pieces of myself that were still pure and still me. thus why i feel so fucking fragmented. the battle in my brain is endless and makes me laugh sometimes.
leave/stay.

there's so much to live for/off yourself.

run away/work harder.

think about the difference you are making in the world/think about your fucking self and have fun.

don't go to work today/be reliable.

and my heart screams, be who you are. such a fucking useless cacophony that consumes me.
the truth is, one of the only times i know who i really am is at a punk show. i feel free, i feel excited, i feel happy. i feel appreciative of my life. i feel motivated, connected, and whole. and when the show is over, i ride that high for a while. and then comes the crash down to earth. yet in the past shows were a huge part of my life, so i wouldn't have to wait too long till the next high kicked in. now, i don't get much exposure to punk shows. albuquerque isn't really all that for shows. losing my music feels like an empty hole in my life.
i went to the punk rock bowling festival in las vegas this past weekend. i had such a good time, i felt everything i just described to you. afterwards, i didn't keep it going with any of those vices i used to. i just got tired and went to sleep. i almost felt robbed of the richness of my experience because i didn't annihilate myself (there's that lovely nihilistic brain talking again!). there was drinking, yes, but i kept it in check. i didn't want to get sick and ruin the whole weekend. i played the tape all the way through. i have been waiting for that weekend for so long- a little island of hope in my otherwise responsible and dutiful life. it was wonderful. it was so fun living so much sound again.

i saw rancid, one of my all time favorite bands. i remember hanging posters of tim and lars in my room in high school. they inspired me, they spoke to me and they made me feel like i would escape one day. they made me want to pursue a strange and exciting existence. every time i see them live it's a revelation, and i feel as passionate as i did 15 years ago listening to them in my bedroom all night, clinging to their voices for comfort when the walls would close in on me. in vegas, they looked exactly the same, their music was as beautiful as ever. i screamed and danced and jumped up and down. i felt the rush. and now i've crashed down to earth. physically i have a sore throat from a weekend of smoking, and i still haven't caught up on my sleep. mentally i feel alone and disconnected from everyone.
i kinda feel like my life has been a series of crashes. i don't feel like i belong on this earth, but i'm stuck here. i want to live, but i can't figure out how to live in this world. i still have that pit in my stomach that probably should have dissolved when i first hit the ground and popped outta my spaceship. maybe that feeling is always going to be present if i choose to live real. so do i accept it, or do i fight it? i'll let you know when i decide.

tired.

stress definitely exacerbates my MH symptomsl, and my ability to cope. i am just aching all over and incredibly uncomfortable in my skin right now. school is SO hard, work is so tiring- i love this field but not sure if its the right one for me. or rather, how long will i survive this field?? im looking forward to valentines weekend with my husband, who puts up with my endless agonies and laments, and loves me nonetheless. when i think of that i feel profound love but also a great deal of regret for what he has to deal with. i will NEVER EVER pass this shit on to a child!!! hell fucking no. ive been dealing witht this now for 15 years and im so sick of it. meds, therapy, they all help- but i just want to be better. so badly.

day 6 of cymbalta withdrawal.

im having non stop brain zaps. i am crying all the time. i suddenly thought about the fact that i bought flowers for my friends funeral over a year ago, and that realization made me start crying even more. just called my nurse and told her i was having withdrawal symptoms- and she said i dont know if its withdrawal, but just going back to baseline.
well whatever the fuck you call it, i'm having it! fuck you!

kill me

cymbalta withdrawal

vertigo
dizziness
nausea
diarrhea
emotional wreck
brain zaps
FUCK

days like these

today was one of those days i genuinely wondered if i can handle this field. . .if my own mental health issues are just too crippling to work with this population. i was exhausted after 4 hours at the welfare office and i've just felt frayed after the robbery. i come back to work and everyone is totally amped up and crazy working on xmas gifts. . .our secretary is shrieking and i just felt INSANE. then my co worker snaps at me and i am just fuming and furious. i was just so weary and wanted to be home. but then i had my art group, and we had a blast making xmas crafts, and i remembered why i do this in the first place. its not about my co workers- its about my truly wonderful clients.

nervous

im starting to feel overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of things i have to do. . . just want to take off for the weekend and party and escape for a bit.

i have been talking to din and elena online much more now, and i am getting so freakin excited to see them at the wedding. they are sisters who were two of my best friends in high school. i have been listening to the wedding playlist pretty incessantly and it makes me happy/teary/etc.

im just really tired. . . i upped my cymbalta which is making it impossible for me to get a good night's sleep. so my nurse prescribes me trazodone, which turns me into a zombie. no happy medium. . .

im off to watch top chef and maybe do my nalls or something. xox

i'm gonna make you love me before long

hello!!!
its been two months since my last post. alot has happened.
ok a quick rundown of life thus far:
i am down to 6 clients from my previous 10. wow. i'm sure you can guess what has happened to some of them. its been hard. the wedding planning is going really well! we have our venue, caterer, photographer (the lovely jenni s) and a LOT of ideas! i also am pretty sure i have my dress picked out too. winter in albuquerque has been so fun. we saw the river of lights display and the twinkle light parade. we spent thanksgiving in santa fe. my sister's baby boy is due june 10, and i've accompanied her to several ultrasounds. reena and michael came here for xmas, and i made a big feast. i got some wonderful xmas gifts like my new rat bonzie, who is incredible. i also got myself some nice gifts, like a record player! new years eve was AWESOME. after a half day, a bunch of my co workers came over and we all drank and talked the day away. that night, teresa, paul, anna, zak, vic and i went to atomic and burt's got incredibly crunk and danced!! it was seriously SO fun. i also sported my corpse bride blue wig, which makes me feel beautiful.
things i know about myself: when i am happy, i dress up. i do my makeup. i feel attractive. and much more importantly, i do art. for me, i find that writing comes out of my horrible experiences, and i am kind of paralyzed when it comes to creating art. i have to be in a more high functioning state to produce art. and boy have i been. it is SUCH A GOOD FEELING to feel like i still have some abilities, to feel creative, to have some confidence in myself again.
i am happy. this is partly due to medication, partly due to my sheer luck in life, and to being surrounded by wonderful people.
i finally feel at home in abq.
i watched a movie on lifetime called "7 things to do before i turn 30"and yes it was awful. please keep in mind that it was starring amber benson, who played tara on buffy the vampire slayer. i ADORE her. i will watch anything she is in. so anyway, i forced vic to make a list of things we wanted to do in the next couple of years. it was really fun. here is mine:

10 things to do before i turn 30.

1. camp at the white sands monument
2. go to japan, particularly sanrio land.
3. get married to vic!
4. have an art show
5. get down to a healthy weight
6. do a road trip up the pacific coast highway ending in vancouver.
7. spend a few months in india.
8. become a makeup artist
9. do a falconry weekend in either VT or WV
10. see the pyramids.

WOW do i have a lot of work to do. but it's gonna be fucking fun.

been a long time

been a long time
been a long lonely lonely lonely lonely time. . .


ok anyway. hi!
its been a while.
i'm doing ok.
i started cymbalta. . . the side effects fuckin BLEW the first week. its getting better.
its hard to deal with family who dont get what a mood disorder is, or think my depression is "minor" because i'm able to have a party. . . ok.
moving on.
i'm waiting for vic to get out of the shower so i can get ready and go to work!
i'm sitting by the fire in the living room and its very nice.
kwals is coming into town tomorrow- we have not seen each other in 2 fucking years! awful.
i had a halloween party last weekend. loads of fun!! i will be posting pics to yum yum soon enough.
what else. . . oh fucking yeah
OBAMA!!!
i'm off to pittsburgh next week to find us a place to get hitched in.

one slipper kind of morning

one of the dogs took my slipper. . . its fuzzy and white and looks kind of like a little dog to chew on, i guess . . . annoyed.
been stressing a lot lately, feeling a major need to get back on my meds and get back in therapy. especially with the people i deal with on a daily basis, i need some back up. in the form of pharmaceuticals.
i always come back to you

in other news, courtney appears to have 14 days till san fran!! whoo hoo!! courtney update us on your moving progress!! xoxo

blondie 11:59

Leaning in your corner like a candidate for wax.
Sidewalk social scientist don't get no satisfaction from your cigarette
It's ten to ten.
Time is running out.
Lock up all your memories.
Get outa here, you know that we can run.
Today can last another million years.
Today could be the end of me.
It's 11:59, and I want to stay alive.
Pumping like a fugitive in cover from the night.
Take it down the freeway like a bullet to the ocean.
Wait until the morning, take tomorrow by the hand.
Take it down the highway like a rocket to the ocean.
We can run.
Today can last another million years.
Today could be the end of me.
It's 11:59, and I want to stay alive.
Hanging on a frequency, burning like a fire.
Boy, you've got the motion down.
It's getting late, I'm tired and I've lost control.
Don't leave me here.
Time is running out.
Take me down the highway like a rocket to the ocean.
We can run.
Today can last another million years.
Today could be the end of me.
It's 11:59, and I want to stay alive.



had a very very bad saturday. i was on call and got a crisis call. was in 3 different hospitals for 10 hours. heard horrible stories and basically was a counselor for the entire day, to someone who doesnt know me and certainly doesnt trust me. why should she? had a little nervous breakdown when i thought i was done for the day and had to go back. havent cried that hard in years.
never been so happy to walk through home's door and see a fucking beagle.
today: state fair. turkey leg, funnel cake, deep fried thingies.

massage town

hey ya'll!!
the past couple of days have been just lovely. let's see, saturday anna and i went to the growers market. then we went to the flea market and picked up some marilyn and elvis prints. we made deviled eggs for her sisters baby shower. deviled eggs are amazing and awesome. and easy to make! ali im going to do a blog about them soon! I SWEAR IT!!
sunday we went to an alpaca farm! the alpacas were adorable and had big beautiful eyes. i wanted to take one home with me. alaira could be its herder. herding it around my backyard.
monday we went to zak and anna's for a yummy bbq.
yesterday we played tennis! i havent played tennis since i was a kid in my driveway with my sister. its pretty fun. then vic and i got massages. . . . ahhhh. i think massages are very intense experiences. . . i always start remembering a lot of things that i've buried, just little things, and it's nice. and just the sheer intimacy of it makes me reflect on a lot of things. lately buddha's five remembrances.

I am of the nature to grow old.
There is no way to escape growing old.

I am of the nature to have ill health.
There is no way to escape ill health.

I am of the nature to die.
There is no way to escape death.

All that is dear to me and everyone I love are of the nature to change.
There is no way to escape being separated from them.

My actions are my only true belongings.
I cannot escape the consequences of my actions.
My actions are the ground upon which I stand.

i'm planning to get the whole thing tattooed on me at some point.
friday i'm getting my septum pierced!
and its the fall (pretty much)!! i LOVE fall. GA has the most beautiful fall. . . pittsburgh didnt have much of one. i love love love fall. i love feeling the crispness in the air and looking forward to halloween! xoxoxoxo

saturday night LOTR fest

im just chillin at home tonite, watching LOTR and ordering stickers for la faundah, my new honda. . . just thinking about feeling lonely, and missing pgh.

something that contributes to my occasional bouts of homesickness is my eternal (and eternally annoying) longing for an unpredictable life.

i miss going to a show, getting drunk, going to a random party and getting more drunk, talking all night with strangers and never knowing where i was going to end up. i really, really miss that. i don't miss getting my feelings being hurt by my latest crush, or waking up covered in bruises and not quite remembering where i got them. i just feel. . . a little caged and bored. caged out of my own volition.
i've just gotta find a balance to having the life i want to have and the life i "should be" having.
but you know, it would be really fucking nice to just be satisfied, for once. it would make things a lot easier.

vic and i had a lovely evening though. . . we got sapporo and sushi at sumo sushi and cake at flying star for dinner. vic also got contacts, and i'm so proud of him for putting them in and taking them out in under 10 minutes!! its fucking hard at first!
the past weeks have been full of driving clients around all over town- to an immunization clinic, annapurna chai house, old navy, the flea market, the ER, the medicaid office. . . everywhere. it's fucking fun though, i love this job and i only get really frazzled when i hurt my back moving shit, like MATTRESSES, my greatest enemy. mattresses need to learn to move themselves. srsly.

tomorrow we are going to the nob hill shop and stroll thing. . . that's about it. hi to my friends that i have neglected so, love you all xoxo

p.s. viggo forever!

hai

thank you for the calls and emails. . . it really means a lot.
i am doing better! what else can i do but just go on?
last night i got a million curtains from savers and am making the homestead all lovely.
i'm working, hanging, enjoying my day.

all my exes live in . . . new mexico?

last night i took a particularly hard call on my rape crisis center shift. they are all hard calls. but this one lasted more than an hour, and was so parallel to some of my own experiences, that it hurt me deeply. . . it invaded my dreams. she said that she'll never be the same. she's dead and he killed her. i know.
i see his face on a lot of people. every couple of weeks i will freak out and think that he's found me and lives in albuquerque. i'll search the internet trying to find a trace of him. i'll panic and cry and deal, and forget. then he pops up again, and i'm back where i started. i've learned to shelve away my reaction when this happens. it's PTSD, and it's a fuckin bitch, but i can't flip out everytime i think i see a man that looks even remotely similar to him. this morning anna and i were walking to the grower's market, and a yellow vw van drove by slow as hell, and the guy in there was staring at me. i thought it was him, for sure, this time.
but i brushed it off and we cracked hilarious hippie jokes and continued on, and had a really wonderful day. we went to the grower's market, picking up fresh garlic and shallots and potatoes. i got this amazing goat cheese, and a loaf of moist, delicious bread from my client's friend's french bakery. we went to the library and picked out photography books for the art group i will be starting in august. we looked through vogue pattern books and i got a library card-FINALLY.
my heart was racing from my morning iced java and lack of sleep, so i cleaned all day.
i made little cheesecake mini bites. i had a ham and cheese wrap from punk rock pizza for dinner.
vic and i watched "night of the creeps".
and then i remembered. vic suggested i look him up on the metro court web site. nothing. i looked him up on the district court site. fuck. my heart slammed around in my chest, and i couldn't breathe for a few seconds.
he's in las cruces, dudes. . . he's here.
i'm terrified.
vic asked me gently, what i thought would happen if i saw him. he brought up good points, like how long it's been since we were together, and that maybe nothing would come of it.
his charge is a felony for drug trafficking. last month. nothing's changed.
i knew it, i KNEW i had seen him somewhere. i have felt him, like i felt him at my grad school commencement 2 weeks after he had almost killed me.
and it's not even that he is still in love with me, or anything like that. it's not about that. it's about control- it's about his totally fractured state of mind- and it's about the fact that he probably wouldn't be able to handle seeing me, just like i can't handle seeing him. two different reasonings behind that, but it's a shared truth.
he could be a sober, married, religious, and fucking reborn man, and i would still be terrified. that is what someone takes away from you, when they violate you and abuse you in ways you would never tell ANYONE about- your freedom, your ability to walk down the street without fucking flinching at the thought of them. . . i wonder if i will look over my shoulder for the rest of my life.
i hope it wasn't him. i hope i will never see him again, and i'll abandon my treatment over incarceration stance temporarily so that he rots in jail, for a long time. the heart of me knows that he needs medication and serious mental help, but it's not my fucking problem. i just want to be in my house and marry my boyfriend and LIVE. for years i have quietly believed that he would kill me one day. most women who come out of similar situations live with that dread lurking in the back of their minds, putting a damper on the happiest days; it resurfaces so forcefully sometimes. i'm a fucking survivor and it's going to take a lot to bring me down. but it's always possible.
they move on to the next victim, the next girl they will treat like garbage and defile and destroy. they lock up the precious memory of us in their box of filth and remember us when they want to- maybe to relive a particularly memorable moment we shared. WE don't have that luxury.
we always remember. and we're never gonna be the same.

facebook, panic, and sneezing fits

ok. i admit it. it's really starting to get to me. yesterday in the job search, i found a new job posting for the substance abuse counseling agency i had interviewed with- for the same job. so basically, they would rather have no one than me. . . i don't think i would have wanted the job anyway, but it stings, you know? i also got a rejection letter from CNM for a job i would have been more than qualified for. i dont know what to do. . .
but in other news, i slept through the night last night, which is a huge accomplishment for me, considering that the past 2 weeks i have tossed and turned ALL FUCKING NIGHT. night is basically my personal hell now. it's interesting that my sleeping issues have gotten to this point. in high school, i had horrible tweaker insomnia, where i stayed up more nights than i actually slept. it was also an incredibly creative and artistic time for me, where i wrote, crafted, and produced more art than i have in my life. so i have a nostalgic longing for that, and also a relief that it's over. then during period of depression later in life, all i wanted to do was sleep.
now my allergies and stress and discomfort make sleeping really hard. and it's not some crazy artistic dream come true. . . it's more just a waste of my body's resources and time. but anyway. as i mentioned in a previous post, walmart has an incredible allergy section. i picked up special allergen-fighting eyedrops, a neti pot (which is fantastic and gross and makes me feel like i am drowning, but also being cleansed), nasal spray, and a variety of pills to heal me. the nasal spray seems to really be doing the trick. it burns my nose for hours, but it makes sleeping a hell of lot more happy. hopefully my passages won't collapse from overuse. . . is that even how that works, dr. bobo??
i think my slew of allergies also has a lot to do with the fact that we don't have a door on our bedroom, thanks to my wonder dog extraordinaire, alaira beara anthony. yeah, she chewed my door off. ours is a dangerous and strange love, with my possessions as chew toys and her teef as weapons of destruction to everything i hold dear- or just take for a granted. like a fucking door.
the dogs sprawl out on our bed day after day and have pretty much filled the room with their strange odors and spiky little hairs. i clean as much as i can, which is not much, and try to ignore the fact that the allergens are creating an almost corporeal being. it just needs a few more patches of fur to LIVE
another thing i've been thinking about is this spectacle called facebook. facebook makes me feel a little more crazy than usual, like crazy uncomfortable. i don't like seeing the forgotten faces of people that made me feel like shit or sad or inspired major hatred in me. i pretty much severely disliked everyone at my high school except for my little tribe of outcasts, that i still love more than life itself. however, it has been really, really nice to reconnect with some kids on there, that were cool as hell in high school and seem to be pretty cool still.
i guess it's really weird to recall that freshman and sophomore year i called certain people "friends" and talked to them on the phone regularly, etc, yet by senior year they would not even look in my direction. i probably wouldn't look in theirs either, i'm not blameless. but still, it's strange to see the lives of these people represented in their profiles, and their pictures of new friends, new homes, and new cities.
this one girl that i had a "friendship" with has been updating her mood with things like, "in mourning", "value your friendships", etc. the human, empathic part of me wants to send her an impersonal but personal message like "hang in there. death sucks and i'm sorry" but the reasonable part of myself wonders why i would ever do that in a million years, considering our friendship was brief and not anything remotely important, and she probably barely remembers who i am. .
or even weirder to see someone like *j* on facebook, who was one of my best, best friends in 8th grade, yet morphed into a strange cheerleader/snob/flirt/mindless/soulless/idiot by the end of high school, and didn't speak to me after 9th grade anyway. we are now facebook friends, and though her pictures show a fraternity house lifestyle, her pretty awesome occupation and education speak otherwise. it makes me a little relieved to know that people can hang onto some parts of themselves always, like their radical intelligence, even while being surrounded by extreme stupidity and dimwittery (no, i don't think that's a word). but what do i know about what she has been through in the past 8 years? nothing. and she knows nothing about me. but now we are "friends." i think i'm reading too much into this, too.
i see sooo many people married with children, and it freaks me out. i'm still young. . . we're all still young. . . i often think to myself that at heart, i am still the wild little punk kid who wrote all night and just dreamed of leaving, and living a crazy life. . . but i'm sure others would say otherwise, and i understand why. i have changed tremendously, in that i chose to walk away from the destructiveness that governed most of my life. i'm not an old soul in a young body- i feel old, a lot of the time, but i also pretty much just feel like my AGE now. i have made a lot of positive choices that the teenage me would never have made. so i guess what is strange to me about facebook is that i'm seeing everyone in a superficial way- an internet profile- that still reflects their own journey and changes, in the simplest ways, like in musical taste- people from st. pius x catholic high school like tom waits and leonard cohen? and anything remotely "punk" or "indie"? are they trying to trick me, so i'll comment on that and then they can laugh at me for being weird? ah, there she is. high school sheila still lurks within.

listening to "naive"-the rentals, "stay monkey"- julie ruin

something to think about

from my "self" magazine:

a grin and bear it mentality is one way to win points with your boss, but it may make your head pound. a new study from britain's university college london found that women who felt underappreciated and overworked were 23% more likely to develop migraines than their more content peers.


SO true. the times in my life i have experienced migraines were definitely due to job related stress. i am so happy to have moved on from a job that was making me physically sick.
today we're going to the rattlesnake museum!! and i get tattooed at 4. xox happy weekend!

brrr

it is a gorgeous, grey and windy day in albuquerque. i can appreciate days like this now, because i don't deal with them very often. yesterday was pretty schizo, with a hail storm one hour, bright sunshine the next. i took laira and gabe to the vet yesterday. gabe amused the other dog moms and dads in the waiting room with his incessant howling and posturing, while alaira merely frightened everyone with her raised fur and pulling. they both got shots, heartworm tests, and finally, microchipped. and my grand total was . . . $377. goddamn!! my heart certainly skipped several beats.
later i went to my ayurvedic follow up. i had a consultation about a month ago, where this really great student at the ayurvedic school took my pulse, studied my skin, asked me a million questions, and looked at my posture. so she told me i had too much water and earth- creating "mud" that could explain my lack of focus, clarity, overweight, etc. so in order to keep my kapha (water) in balance, i need to avoid certain food, try different breathing exercises, etc. i'm very intrigued and it makes a lot of sense to me. i am a huge believer in alternative medicine, if this could even be called that- ayurveda is a 5000 year old medical practice. i'm currently in a a state of vikruti- "The combination of elements that a person evolves to embody after being exposed and responding to the conditions of their life", meaning imbalance. i 100% agree. it was very interesting.
i had an interview for a case manager job for women with co-ocurring disorders. seriously, my dream population to work with right there. so i get to the interview, after driving through a hail storm, steel myself, walk in. the woman who interviewed me had apparently not seen my resume before hand, so she said, "hmmm. . . well anyone looking at this resume would think you are completely unqualified for the job." ouch. should i walk out? what now? but then she continued on, rather awkwardly, "but i believe that people's experiences and personalities matter more. so talk to me about my concerns." she then brought in the clinical director, who loved me. so we'll see what happens with that.
ended the day with the indiana jones movie and step it up and dance. step it up and dance was far superior, to be quite honest.