I Thought I'd Go Up Poughkeepsie. Look Out On The Hudson And Throw My Body Into The River....

I feel:: heavily medicated



I'm having suicidal thoughts again and strong self-injury urges. I know songs on blogs aren't that "cool", but this one gets me through when nothing else does.

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The thing is, my friend hurt me. Blindsided me. I don't know if I'm over-reacting or not, but I know that I ache like I did right after David died. It's like she ripped the scab off a healing wound and now the blood of emotion and pain is gushing uncontrollably again.

Classes start tomorrow and I hope I don't have to go through another month of crying my heartache out every day and self-medicating with too much Klonopin. You know, they should really make a Pez dispenser for that stuff.

I don't ask much from people usually,but I would appreciate prayers or vibes or whatever you feel comfortable with. You that read my blog should know that I don't judge other people badly just because they don't believe the same way I do. I believe that everyone deserves to be loved and to experience love just for the simple fact that they exist. It's this "love" that I'm questioning now. Does she love me? Or is it only convenient for her to love me when nothing is required of her-when I don't need her?

Ever since I met her, she has been like my air. She is a part of me. I can't exist without her. She is closer to me than any sister could be. I love her. I don't think she knows how much. I would die for her. And no I'm not kidding and I'm not just saying that out of a rush of emotion. Now, I'm wondering if she feels the same way about me. I'm wondering if my definition of friendship has been totally different from hers all this time. We've been friends for 10 years.

It would be so easy for me to lash out at her, but I can't. I don't want to hurt her even though she's hurt me. I've had imaginary conversations in my mind of all the things I could say, but they're all so stinging and meant to pierce right into her heart the way she has pierced mine. I can't do it, though. I love her.

Whenever she aches, I ache. Whenever she's happy, I'm happy. Like I said, she's my air. To cut off my friendship with her would be tantamount to cutting off one of my limbs. So, I'll keep this hurt to myself and forgive her for it even though she may never know. One day, in the future, I may tell her how she hurt me. When all this ache has dissipated and I'm not so prone to want to hurt her just because she hurt me.

It seems like I always suffer alone. I don't know if I prefer it that way. Do I push people away when I'm aching? It seems like to me that I'd rather have someone that I love be there for me and just hold me when I'm desperately crying out my heart to God; when my emotions are so raw that the slightest misplaced word burns me.

Am I alone in this? Do you guys prefer to suffer your pain alone, or do you reach out for the people you know that love you? That's my problem, I guess. I don't really know who loves me for sure. My three closest friends always say that they do. We end every conversation with, "I love you," and "I love you too,". Is it just an automatic response on their part or do they really mean it? I'm not so unsure right now of two of them than I am of the one particular one who has just kicked my legs right out from under me. It makes me question our friendship. Maybe it needs to be redefined. Maybe I just need to resign myself to not rely on her for anything anymore.

I'm so hurt. I ache in my heart and I'm so confused.

My Inner (Or Not-So-Inner) Geek

I feel:: like I either need Starbucks or some ice cream. OO! Starbucks ice cream! I think I'm pre-menstrual, just fyi.

Ok. Y'all remember when I posted about getting a new computer? Well, right after that in a rush of emotion, I called my mom and asked her if she would like to have my old one. It's not really that "old". I bought it in 2001, but I guess as computer technology goes, it's ancient. At least that's what the "Geek Squad" guy intimated to me by his not-so-subtle wide-eyed ganders at my computer when I brought it in to have them look at it. You would have thought that I had just said, "Hey can you fix my Atari console?"

Anyway, I talked to my mom yesterday and she wanted to know if I wanted to come up and see her. Also, she wanted me to bring the computer. I know she's itching to get her hands on it. When I called her to ask her if she wanted it, she literally squealed with delight. My mom is disabled and lives on the money she gets from the government for her disability, which is, to say the very least, a pittance. She has a desktop computer, but I think she bought it in the early '90s. It's got a 20G hard drive. When I told her that no one even makes 20G hard drives anymore, she looked surprised. Well, she's got so much stuff on her hard drive that she can't even defrag it. It's only got like 1% free space left. She puts recipes on her computer. Lots and lots of recipes. That's what's taking up all the space. It's a wonder she can still get online (she has dial-up *cringe*). I don't know why she doesn't just print them out and put them in a notebook. Or transfer them to a floppy disk. (Yeah, that's right. I said "floppy disk".) Her computer has a cd-drive, but it doesn't have the capability for her to transfer stuff from her hard drive to a cd in the drive. But, she does have a floppy disk drive that she can do that with. I told you her computer was old.

Yesterday, I couldn't get on the internet because there were storms all over the place so my satellite crapped out as it usually does during bad weather. It's irritating, but I'm used to it. So, I decided to use the time to get my old computer ready for Mom to use. I started working on it at about 3pm. I stopped at about 10pm. I thought I was going to go to bed and I tried to, but it just wasn't in the cards for me last night. I tossed and turned, thought and re-thought about the computer and tried not to fall into a crying panic attack for a couple of hours.

I got up about 12am and got the computer out again and started working on it. I had a lot of stuff on there that was just unnessary and things that I knew my mom wouldn't want or need. So, I accidentally deleted this one program (I say "accidentally", but it wasn't an accident. I just didn't remember what that program was for until after I deleted it. It's kind of like locking your keys in your car and realizing you did it the second you shut the door.) The computer display went all weird after I did that. Everything got HUGE. I thought to myself, "Jesus, I'm not blind. What the hell?" So I fixed the screen resolution and then proceeded to move on to other programs to make sure that they were working only to find out that because I had deleted that one program, some of the other programs were now not working right. If I could've kicked myself in the ass I would have. So, I did a System Restore to earlier that same day-to 7pm. I thought to myself, "Surely I didn't delete that program before then." After waiting for what seemed an eternity,the computer rebooted and I checked the Add/Remove Programs section to see if the program I deleted was there. It was, sort of. Only half of it was there.

Fuck.

So, I did another System Restore to even earlier that day-5pm. Another eternity passed while I was growing ever more panicky and hugging one of my decorative, chenile, fringy pillows so tight that I was having trouble breathing. The computer finally rebooted again. I watched with super-impatience waiting for the task bar to load, because if the program had been restored it would show up there. It didn't. So, I checked again the Add/Remove Programs section only to see the same thing I saw before: only half of the program had been restored.

You know how sometimes during the middle of something, you suddenly have this idea pop into your head out of nowhere? As if the computer fairy had just implanted it into your head? That's what happened right then to me. I thought, "I'll just reconnect it to the internet and see if I can re-download the program." So, I disconnected my new computer from the satellite and reconnected the old one. Aha! There was the elusive program. It just popped up on the taskbar once I connected to the internet, but I got a pop-up on screen that said something like, "There was a problem with installation. Your new hardware might not work properly." I should never be the one to fix things because I'm the person who says things like,"Oh, these are just extra parts," then the whole bookcase or whatever comes crashing down. Predictably, I ignored that message thinking that I had met with success. I disconnected the old computer and reconnected the new one back to the satellite.

I moved back to seat myself Indian-style in my big-comfy-chair with my old computer sitting nicely in front of me on my footstool. I don't remember what happened after that. It's all kind of blurry. I think by this time it was probably about 3am or so and I noticed that if I stared at the computer screen long enough, it would morph into two computer screens. Never do LSD. It stays with you for years.

Anyway, I think I tried to remove some unnessary program I had found and the computer said that it needed to be restarted in order for the changes to be complete. So, ok, no big deal. Restart. Only when it did restart, only the little green light on the bottom came on. Nothing else happened. I thought, "Maybe it's assimilating information." So, I waited...and waited...and waited. I watched an entire movie (Dominion: A Prequel To The Exorcist-which, to my amazement was totally different than the other "prequel" to the Exorcist I had seen. I thought it was par for the course considering the night.) while I was waiting for something to come up on the screen.

After the movie was over, I moved to get out of my big-comfy-chair so I could go to the kitchen to get something to drink. In the process, I bumped into my footstool, which in turned jarred the computer sitting on it and it fell to the floor. Not a very hard fall-I have carpet and the footstool is only a couple of feet high, but a fall nonetheless. Freaking out, I pulled the computer from the floor and unplugged it from the wall. (That's another strange thing about that computer. Sometimes you have to start it with only the battery power, or it won't start at all when it's plugged in to a wall socket, but then sometimes it will.) I waited a few minutes, plugged it in again and started it. It started right up like nothing had ever happened,which led me to think, "Maybe I should have dropped it earlier."

By this time, it was about 5am, so I decided that I had done enough with the computer, plus about 2 hours earlier I had taken 2 Klonopin and 2 of Dad's Wondermous Headache Pills in the hopes that I would be able to fall asleep sometime this week. After taking care of the computer, I went to my room and literally fell into my bed. I didn't realize how tired and achey my body was. I still wasn't sleepy, though, so I thought I'd do what I normally do to go to sleep-watch a movie that I've watched 574827485974689254782 times. There are certain movies that within five minutes of my turning them on, I'm sleeping like the dead. Last night, I decided to watch 'Matrix: Reloaded'. Despite my best intentions, however, sleep eluded me. When I finally decided to turn the tv off was when the characters on the screen looked like one body with two heads. Like I said, never do LSD. You never know when the flashbacks will come. The last time I did Acid was when I was 17 or 18 (1987 or 1988). Really, it stays with you for YEARS.

My Light Bulb Flickered "On" For A Minute There

I feel:: depressed, anxious, sad

Now is the time of the day when it gets really hard not to think about David. I feel that old, very familiar ache right in the area of the middle of my sternum. It's so pressing that sometimes it gets hard to breathe.

I have no idea what to do with this ache. It's familiar, but the ache is so much keener than it ever has been. It's like the difference between trying to cut meat with a dull knife and a sharpened one. I thought I had experienced pain before, but never anything like this.

What's weird to me is crying and not crying for myself. I don't know if that makes much sense, but it does to me. There have only been a few times in my life when my crying (freaking out) and depression hasn't been because I'd had a flashback or something/someone/someplace triggered me. Sometimes the depression wanes for a bit, but I can always feel it there just below the surface. I realized in the midst of a crying jag the other night that I wasn't in the least bit crying for myself. I was crying because I was grieving over David's death. I know that's sort of an odd time to have a revelation about oneself, but nevertheless, it happened. Somehow, that knowledge made it more ok for me to feel my own grief. I embraced it instead of trying to push it away.

I've been so upset over friends in trouble before that I've literally fallen to my knees in prayer and hysterical crying because I was afraid for them. But I knew they would live, or rather, I knew they weren't dead. God puts people on my heart at times to pray for and I wind up in tears over that, but I'm finding out that grief is a totally different animal.

It seems to me that I've always been taught to push away those "bad" emotions, but now I'm beginning to wonder if any emotions are "bad". I mean, God gave me emotions because I'm made in his image. From what I've studied in the Bible, God does indeed have emotions and does express them. So, now I'm thinking if I, instead of trying to push away negative emotions when they come, but embrace them-face them- that that might be the road to wellness for me. I have serious doubts that I'll ever be "well", but what I guess I mean is "not so sick as now". It seems to me that it's more what one does or doesn't do with whichever emotions are felt that can be either "good" or "bad".

I don't really know what I mean, I suppose. People throw the word "normal" around like it's supposed to mean something. I don't know what "normal" is. I only know what is familiar to me. I also don't really know what "abnormal" is because I only know what I see as "abnormal". It might be totally different for someone else and probably is. For me, "abnormal" is meeting someone whose parents have never been divorced, "mom" cooks dinner every night and "dad" doesn't look at his daughter like he'd rather have her for dinner than what his wife cooked.

People who seem to be what society would consider "normal" kind of freak me out. I guess because I just don't believe that every family doesn't have some sort of issue going on within it and each family member their own demons. Some families are better at hiding it than others. I don't know, maybe I'm just jaded-seen too much misery in my lifetime to believe that anyone can be truly "good". Even myself.

I'm "It".

I feel:: shaky and nauseous




Pippa tagged me for this book meme. Considering I'm still feeling a bit sick, my answers might be a little...weird.

Book Meme: Tagged.
1. One book that changed your life?
Ok. Some might consider this really, really trite: The Bible changed my life dramatically once I really started studying it.

2. One book you have read more than once?
The Chronicles of Narnia~C.S. Lewis

3. One book you would want on a desert island?
How To Find Water Where There Seemingly Is None. I don't know if such a book exists, but it would be very helpful to me.

4. One book that made you laugh?
How To Spot A Bastard By His Star Sign

5. One book that made you cry?
Wasted~Marya Hornbacher

6. One book you wish had been written?
A book authored by myself. I've always wanted to write.

7. One book you wish had never been written?
I'm not sure of the title, but it could be something like, "The Art of Speaking In Toungues", or "The Real Baptism of the Holy Spirit", anything by Benny Hinn (I nicknamed him Mr. Vitalis. Look at his hair...really.), Kenneth Copeland or anyone of that ilk (I realize some people might be offended by this, but please know that this is my opinion and my blog. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion.)

8. One book you are currently reading?
I've been trying to read Jane Eyre and The Phantom of the Opera on and off now for over a year. I just keep picking them up and putting them down. I guess because of school.

9. One book you have been meaning to read?
I want to finish "The Tale of Genji"

10. Now tag five people.
I think I have cooties, so y'all might want to run from me.

Retitled: I Cannot Be Held Responsible For What I Say When I'm Feverish And Channeling Chatty Cathy

I feel:: extremely weird and feverish

I think I'm coming down with something, which is great since the start of the school semester is right around the corner. It feels like I'm coming down with Shingles again.

Let me back up a bit. Firstly, most anyone who knows me knows that I have scoliosis, but unless you've been around me any significant amount of time, you've never seen the troubles I have with my hips because the curvature of my spine puts my pelvis off kilter. One side is higher than the other, therefore, one leg is longer than the other. (I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "What does Shingles have to do with Scoliosis other than they're both "S" words?" I'm fixin' to tell you.) Ok, whenever I am about to have pain with my hips (it's usually on the right side), my skin in that area starts to feel extremely tender. Almost like a bad sunburn. What's funny about this is that it usually only happens on my right side: on my right ass cheek-that's where it starts. The usual way I notice this is because toilet seats are usually very cold no matter what time of year. I guess it's like my body letting me know that the pain is in the mail. Well, like I said, it's usually only on my right side and starts at my right ass cheek. Then, the pain works it's way to my hip and eventually all the way down my leg. Sometimes, it gets so bad that I can't stand on it and my right leg has gone out from under me before. The most recent time I can remember is last semester at school trying to climb the stairs to go to class when my leg just wouldn't support me. Only very rarely does it ever happen on my left side.

Well,the other day, I noticed (via the temperature of the toilet seat again) that my skin was really tender. Only this time it was the left side. So, ever since I've been waiting for the pain to go down my leg, but it never did. It migrated up to my torso. To exactly the place where I had Shingles the last time. The entire right side of my torso, from the midline of my stomach around to my spine, feels like I fell asleep under a sunlamp. Today, the flu-ish symptoms started. It was hard to distinguish that particular ache from the other body aches I have been feeling for the past two weeks since David died. But this is like a "run over by a truck" feeling. For the past several hours, I've also had a low-grade fever, which feels like it's getting worse because I'm starting to sweat, despite the fact that the air conditioner is set on 75 degrees and the ceiling fan is on high. I slept all day today. I think I was only awake for maybe two hours.

This last time I got up I was feeling pretty good and was even wondering if I would be able to get any sleep tonight since I slept all day, but now, after being up and moving around the house for the last 4 hours, I feel like I could fall into bed and never move again.

God, I don't want Shingles again. Last time I had them, I had to drop out of school and it took my immune system at least 6 months to recover from it. Even if it is the flu, that would still suck because VAST is doing a show here in LR at Juanita's on Wednesday night and I already have a ticket for it.

The good news is that I've been in contact with a friend of mine who put himself in rehab six months ago. The last time I talked to him, he said he was going to Alaska to try and get a job on one of those crab boats. I thought I'd never see him again. I got an email from him several weeks ago and he told me where he was and that he had put himself in rehab. I couldn't call him, but I wrote him. On Monday, he called me! I also got to talk to him for a bit tonight and he said that he would call me again on Tuesday. Wow, I've missed him so much. And I can't say that I'm not glad that he's not in Alaska trying not to fall off of a crab boat. I'm so happy that he had the strength to put himself into rehab. I have not known very many people who have done that. Usually, their family and/or friends force them to go into rehab, or they have a near-death experience and wind up in rehab that way.

I'm like Chatty Cathy With A Fever tonight. If Chatty Cathy could sweat like a whore in church.

Other than that, I've bought some new pens and mechanical pencils for school which I'm way to excited about. They're decorative.

HTML es el Diablo.

I feel: extremely frustrated


Would someone please tell me why my sidebar looks fine (everything looks fine) in Firefox, but my sidebar is way down below the post body in IE and it's wider? I've been fiddling with this blog for over a week now since I had to make it over from scratch. I keep getting denied at this site I want to add my blog to because they say when they go to look at my blog in IE, there's trouble with IE (like that's my fault) and that all they see is a page of CSS. It seems like they're the only ones who see only the CSS, because everyone else has been reading and commenting.

I wish I knew CSS/HTML better.

Weight Loss Update

I'm surprised I haven't lost more than 2 pounds. I haven't been taking care of myself very well lately. I'm kind of glad, though, that I haven't lost more because that would mean that I am worse off than I think I am.

Another Click & Comment Monday!

Well, It's C&C Monday again. I'm going to give this another whirl and see what happens.
Every Monday,Cat has been hosting Click & Comment Monday. This is where you first go to to Cat's blog and click on her renter. (I have no renter. I'm still waiting for this site to be accepted at Blog Explosion.) Then, click her renter's renter and so on and so on. Or you can start with my blog roll and go from there. If there's no renter on another person's blog, you can just use their blogroll too. Try to do 5. More if you have the time. It really will increase your blog traffic and you might get to make some new friends in the process!

Leave your name in the Mister Linky Magical Widget auto-link thingy below and I'll come to your blog and comment!



Happy commenting and I hope you (and I) make some new friends today!

Edit:Sometimes, Mister Linky's Magical Widgets are down. I don't know why, but if the auto-link thingy doesn't work, just leave a comment here and I'll know to come to your blog that way.

Well....

I feel: like my ass hurts

Click & Comment Monday went over like some cheap heels at a debutante ball. I guess I just don't get enough traffic for it to be fun.

Also, (welcome Captain Obvious) I've totally redone my blog. If anyone cares to give their opinion, feel free to opine away. I'm pretty proud of it, considering on the first try I fucked it up somehow and all I could see was a page of code (HTML for me is like playing baseball. I never played baseball.). So, I had to start completely over from scratch.

Not much else to say except that I'm still trying to get over David's death. I've never had someone that close to me die before, so I'm in totally unfamiliar territory. Some days, I feel fine. Some days are shit. (Yesterday was pretty bad.)I seem to wind up crying at least once a day every day because some little thing I see or hear makes me think of David. What's weird is that it doesn't even have to be directly associated with him or my memory of him. It only has to be slightly peripheral to start the waterworks.

I'm still not eating regularly. I'm drinking way too much coffee and, oddly enough, sleeping too much. That's one of my trademarked avoidance tricks. Just sleep and everything goes away. For awhile at least. But there are times when I just can't go to sleep. I just lay in bed comtemplating how the blown paint stuff on the ceiling looks like a bunch of zits and how much I hate the way it looks (I had particularly bad skin as a teenager. The ceiling reminds me of that. I know it's weird, but I just can't help it.). Then I start thinking about how I'd like to wallpaper it,how to get that blown shit off the ceiling and how much that would cost, the fact that I have no money...this goes on and on and on. A seemingly endless list of inane thoughts that go through my head when I'm really trying to go to sleep.

The worst thing, though, is when I'm trying to go to sleep and I keep reliving memories of one or more of the rapes that happened to me or one or more of the times my parents were particulary nasty to me or beat me. I can't even describe the hurt and rage that I feel laying there in bed thinking about that stuff. When it comes, I try to push it back down. I try so hard.