~Untitled-29th March 2006~

You'll rescue me.
From the shadows of myself I creep around in.
You'll tell me.
How to be like you?
You'll speak to me.
So these noisy insane voices will disappear?
In the name of Honesty
I am an open book
Laid bare before you
with emotions raw and tender to the touch.
You won't leave me.
When you find out how crazy I am?
You'll stay with me.
When I try to push you away?
© Robyn Fenner



Money Does Grow On Trees, Mom.

I was trying to think last night, as I was Christmas shopping for Tanya, what exactly is it that I like about the "Holidays", specifically Christmas. Christmas has never been a great time for me. Something always seems to happen that knocks the wind out of me or my legs out from underneath me. I don't know if it's just me that this happens to or if the stars get somehow misaligned at Christmas-time or what.

What I do like is giving and receiving gifts. Actually, I like giving more than receiving. I know, I know it's hard to believe and it sounds like I might be lying about myself, but it's true. I'm a sucker for giving people things I think they might like or know that they really want. I love the suspension they get before they open the gift and the smiles afterward. Plus I get hugs, which is a bonus.

In my family we draw names at Thanksgiving to see who gets whom a gift. We started (actually I wasn't really part of the starting because I was too young) this as a way of saving money at Christmas-time because you know, money doesn't grow on trees, as my mother was so fond of telling me when I was young. (Wouldn't that be cool, though? You could just pick it whenever. Someone should make a tree that grows money. That's what I think, anyway. Just to prove my mother wrong.)

Drawing names isn't a bad idea in itself. The thing is, in my family, none of us know each other well enough to know what to get each other. So, we all try to covertly ask around to other family members who got whose name and reveal whose name we got and try to find out what that person wants for Christmas. Actually, it's really not that "covert". One year, I got my cousin, Darren, out of the hat-'o-names and was absolutely clueless about what to get him. So, I called his mom and asked her outright. She said, quickly, in her English cockney accent, "Oh, anythin' that's edible!"

I'm not sure really, but I think that's kind of sad that a group of people who call themselves "family" don't know each other well enough to know what kind of Christmas presents to give. I'm not pointing my finger here. As I said, I'm guilty of it too. I wish I knew my family better and they me.

Ok, I like the gift-giving, but I don't like the gift-buying. Mostly because I'm a huge procrastinator and never seem to get gifts until right before Christmas, which is, unfortunately, when everyone else is buying Christmas presents. I don't like large crowds (I mentioned that a few posts back.) and if I could, I would do all of my Christmas shopping online from my bigcomfychair. Also, it seems like everyone gets on each other's nerves more at Christmas than at any other time. I find this odd because we're supposed to be celebrating the birth of Christ or if not Christ, at least the arrival of Santa Claus. If not Santa, at least the celebration of getting presents and eating lots and lots of good food.

Again, not pointing my finger at anyone, because I'm just as guilty as everyone else. Things just seem to go off-kilter at Christmas. Should it be that way? I don't think so and I fervently wish/pray every year that it won't be that way. I wish we all could be more relaxed and not so harried.

So, I saw this website I liked today where I can buy all kinds of gifts for those people in my family who have everything and whom I struggle to buy gifts for. It's called Delightful Deliveries.com. You can order and pay for your stuff online and they deliver it right to your door! (I know I seem weirdly amazed by this, but I've hardly ever had anything delivered to my door that wasn't a bill. Y'all know what I mean, right? I'm not the only one?) I know I would be giggly like a schoolgirl if I got a surprise Christmas gift delivered right to my door.

They have things like this:

and this:

Plus a whole truckload more stuff. Stuff for baby showers, birthdays, personalized stuff. They even have an organic fruit club *gasp* where you sign up and recieve different organic fruits delivered to you every month. Or you can order it for someone else. (hinthinhint) Y'all they even have Gourmet Meals. How sweet is that? And some of the stuff they have is only $15.00 dollars. That's definitely going my way. Of course, they have more expensive things, too. A person could spend up to $1000.00 dollars on one gift from there. (GodpleasegivemeathousanddollarsGodpleasegivemeathousanddollars)

I just love this site, y'all! The gift baskets and such are so originally designed. That's one thing I like best, besides the fact that it's food, of course. (I have a love/hate relationship with food. I love it. It hates my hips. Oh well, at least I get to eat well. :D) I don't know about you guys, but I like to buy gifts for people that are original. Something that you can't get just anywhere. It makes it special, you know?

They say they are America's #1 Gift Basket Website. With stuff like they have I'm not surprised!

Anyway, I'm really Chatty Cathy today, aren't I? I swear I haven't drunk a whole pot of coffee. I guess it's just a good day. Thank God.


Just What Kind Of Dressing Does One Put On A Haunted House?

If y'all haven't noticed yet, I have a new renter this week, Haunted House Dressing. His name is Jeremy Shipp, he's the author of several books and let me tell you something (and this is coming from a person who knows she's crazy), this guy is crazy. Not like in a I'm-a-random-serial-killer kind of way, but more like wow-I-really-loveMonty-Python kind of way (I do really love Monty Python, btw). His blog seems like it's mostly conversations he has with himself. I could be wrong. The other person could be flesh and blood, but he never really says yay or nay about that. That's not to say that I don't have conversations with myself all the time. I do, and believe you me, they're weird (Just last night, as I was cleaning out my belly button, I wondered to myself, "How many people clean out their belly buttons on a regular basis?" Another voice said, "It's not like it's a major body part to clean like armpits. It's just kind of there, mostly unnoticable." So, just so you know. I do understand the talking-to-yourself-thing.). Just not like he does. His imagination far outdoes mine by a long-shot. Y'all should give him a read. To say that he's interesting would be a gross understatement.



I love to go on vacations. Usually, Sally, Tanya and I go to Florida (Destin) every year and rent a condo. I can't describe how much I love being near the sea and how much I love the smell of the salt air. I would love to have a house right on the beach just so I could go out on my veranda every morning, drink my coffee, breathe in the salt air, watch the waves roll in and be comforted by the ever-present sounds of the ocean. That's my dream. Well, one of them anyway.

I've always wanted to go to Hawaii. I even mentioned it to Sally and Tanya a few years ago instead of going to Destin, but I don't think between the three of us that we had enough money. (Poo.) I've been to the Bahamas (that was way back in 1984), but according to what I've heard, Hawaii is totally different from any other place I've been that is bordered by ocean. There are active volcanoes you can go see and the beaches are totally different. When I was younger, I heard a lot about the North Shore because some of my friends were aspiring surfers and that was supposed to be the Mecca of surfing because of the awesome waves. I don't care about the surfing part. I just think it would be so awesome just to go there and see them.

When I was a little girl, I used to fantasize about my perfect wedding, as I'm sure a lot of other little girls did. At first, my imagination produced a grandiose, extravagant and, I must admit, a tad ostentatious monstrosity. I guess I just wanted to be noticed and to feel like people loved me. I didn't understand then that just because you know a lot of people and they show up at a wedding doesn't necessarily mean they like or respect you. They may just be crashing or coming for the food. A huge wedding isn't the end-all-be-all of existence like I used to imagine it was (I also used to imagine I was a fairy and a mermaid amongst other things. I think the grandiosity of the fantasy wedding was my attempt at escapism. I watched too many Disney movies as a child and was always waiting for my Prince Charming.I kind of always lived in a fantasy world as a child. It was better than the real one.)I actually had this fantasy up until I was in my early twenties, but Prince Charming must have been rescuing some other girl, because he never showed up in my life. Now I wonder if there is such a thing.

As I got older and gained a little common sense and more self-esteem, my imagination and my heart became more in sync with each other and I realized that my fantasy wedding wasn't something gigantous with lots and lots of people, a huge ornate cake and a fairy princess dress. I realized that, for me, it would be just for show. You know, to impress other people. I said in a previous post that what other people think of me sometimes takes me over and that sometimes I try too hard to get people to like/love me. It was even more so when I was a little girl because I had no self-esteem at all due to the things that happened in my childhood.

I have always loved the sea (This began at a very young age. My father used to take me to Florida (Ft. Walton Beach) every year, beginning at about age 6 or 7, and I spent most of my waking hours either on the patio watching the ocean or on the beach just being near it. I even slept outside on the patio at times just so the sound of the waves could lull me to sleep.) and I think now that my fantasy wedding would most likely be in Hawaii, possibly on Maui. Maui Wedings. Cool. On the beach with just my closest friends and family (the ones who love me), with the sound of the waves crashing against the shore for the music. I don't know if I'll ever actually get married (the groom seems to be absent or stuck in traffic somewhere), but if I ever do, that's the kind of wedding I'd want.



Wordless Wednesday

When Wal-Mart shoes attack



Take One Of These Blogs And Call Me In The Morning.

Ok, it's raining and I'm so freakin' sleepy. I seem to have the terminal sleepies. Especially if I watch certain movies. I feel like Pavlov's dog. I wish/want to be more like one of those people who have lots and lots of energy to do the things they want to do everyday. I don't. I get fatigued really easily. It's been suggested to me that I have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. I don't know, though. I've never been to the doctor about it. Not that that really means much because CFS is the diagnosis they give you when they can't really figure out exactly what is wrong with you. Maybe it's allergies. Maybe I'm just really, really lazy. Who knows. It bugs me, though. I feel like I miss out on a lot. I am however, one of those people who feels very content at home surrounded by the familiar: the comfortable.

Venturing outside the house means for me putting myself at some discomfort because I have to navigate people and talk to them (I realize that this is a very prideful statement, because I know that no one person is better than any other. It's just that most people get on my nerves when I'm out and about i.e. grocery shopping and whatnot. I do try to be patient, but my patience is finite, unfortunately.). This causes me anxiety sometimes. Also, drivers who seem to have gotten their licenses out of the bottom of a Cracker Jack box cause me not a little anxiety, anger and frustration. I guess that's pretty normal, though. Although, don't know many people who actually flip off drivers that piss them off. I've done that before several times, much to my amazement. For such a quiet person, my temper really takes me by surprise when it surfaces. I guess the statement, "It's the quiet ones you have to watch out for" is true.

I have a Tuesday Treat for everyone. I'm going to give y'all the list of bloggers who bid on this blog to be my renter this week. Because I can only pick one, I wind up feeling guilty and thinking that the ones I don't choose get their feelings hurt or feel slighted. This is my meager way of making up for it.

1. Tom Jackson Online
2. Evolution Of Gina
3. Casual Slack
4. Mystical Incense And More Blog
5. Pictures From My World
6. Computerized World
7. The Panic Blog
8. Dear Me

These are all great blogs. So, go. Read them. Find out something you didn't know before.

"Open your mind."-Total Recall

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Click and Comment Monday

In my continuing quest to redeem Monday from it's terrible reputation and to discover new blogs and to possibly make new friends, I join again Click & Comment Monday. Cat has been hosting this for...I don't know how long. I, personally, think it's a good idea. It keeps Monday from being blah for me. I actually have something to look forward to on Monday's instead of groaning about how the weekend is over. (I don't really do anything on the weekends mostly because of lack of money, but; nevertheless, if there's something to complain about you can bet I'll find it.)

Anyway, I'm going to try and visit at least 5 blogs today and leave a thoughtful comment. Something besides, "Happy C&C Monday", which I admit I have been very guilty of lately. I'm lazy. Lazy blogger. It takes a lot more energy to actually go through some posts on a person's blog and find something that interests you to comment on than to just leave a generic comment. At least that's how it is for me. Thinking is hard, right? It's not just me that gets the "brain block" that makes you a blogging zombie?

I encourage everyone who comes to my blog to find something to comment on (God, y'all know there's plenty of posts about everything from my being totally nutbar-ish to coffee to farting. There's got to be something. At least I hope I'm a bit interesting. I try to be.) and to visit at least 5 other blogs. You can start with my renter, The Screaming Pages, which would be a very good start since she's uber-interesting and intelligent and this is your last chance to visit her while she's my renter (EDIT She is not my renter anymore as of a few minutes ago, but I'm still going to pimp her out in this post just because I like her. So get yer butt on over there). After you get to her blog and comment, find someone on her blogroll who catches your eye to visit. Leave them a nice little comment on something they posted and either click on their renter (if they have one) or someone on their blogroll and so on and so forth. It's a great way to increase your blog traffic and, like I said at the beginning of this post, is also a great way to discover people you might not have otherwise.

I think discovery is what keeps our brains well-oiled, so to speak. It's so easy to slip into that vegetative state where you just go through the motions of everyday life not thinking about one thing or the other, you know? I know it's so easy for me, at least, to slip into that state. I, for one, prefer to be a thinking, analyzing person who is trying to grow and learn from everything I encounter. It's hard, though, to have your brain "on" all the time that's why we have to do it a bit at a time and then take a break. Baby steps, right? It's all about baby steps.

So, I've opined enough, at least for now, I think. At the bottom of this post, there will be a Mr. Linky box where you can leave your name and blog addy when you comment and after you do that, I'll come and visit you! I'm a bit wordy. Just fyi.

Let's get to it, then!



Wordless Wednesday


It's Almost Like A Debutante Ball

Oh wow. I was going to do the C&C Monday thing yesterday, but damn, just for me to get that one post out of my brain is saying something. I really wanted to start the week off right showing off my wonderful new renter, The Screaming Pages. I hope she doesn't feel slighted.

Y'all she has got to have the coolest header I've ever seen. I wish I could do stuff like that. She is a very smart, instructional designer who is planning on going back to school to further her education. She doesn't seem too enthused about that prospect right now. We should give her some motivation; some encouragement. I, unfortunately, have little motivation for school right now as well as I'm having real trouble just functioning on a basic level, but this post is not about me. It's about my renter.

I'd seen her blog around before; I think on BE and she was the renter a couple of times of blogs that I read regularly. She has a wry sense of humor and, like, I said before, very intelligent. I think it would behoove every one of y'all to go and read her blog. I, for one, intend to spend much more time in the coming week learning about her life and her opinions. She's interesting. That's all there is to it.

So, give her a click. You'll be glad you did.




I must apologize for not being around here for the last several days. I'm having a hard time with the withdrawal symptoms of Klonopin. My psychiatrist told me that it stays in your system longer than, say, Xanax, but I didn't think it would last this long. Also, I haven't been taking very good care of myself physically for the last couple of weeks i.e. eating things I know I'm allergic to and will make me feel like I've been run over by a truck (which is exactly how I feel today). Wheat products, sugar, and dairy products are going to be my undoing.

Last week when I asked Dad to bring home "some" doughnuts, thinking that he would only get like 3 or 4, he brought home 2 dozen. Ok, who can resist Krispy Kremes? Certainly not I. I think I only ate those while they were here to the detriment of anything else. Suffice it to say, I don't think working in a pastry shoppe is the ideal job for me. And then there's ice cream, which I love in a freaky, unhealthy, stalkerish kind of way. I haven't had a boyfriend in over a year, but I have regualr affairs with Ben and Jerry. Ben and Jerry tend to be a lot less trouble and more comforting over all than a flesh-and-blood boyfriend. Except that they don't like me very much. Isn't that always how it goes? You always pine for the ones who love someone else. STOP: I need to remember that I AM ALLERGIC TO WHEAT AND DAIRY and violently at that. Sugar is also my enemy being that I'm hypoglycemic.

I guess I'm just hard-headed (my parents have always accused me of this) and have to abuse my body to the point where I can't move to get it through my thick head that I CANNOT HAVE THOSE THINGS. EVER. I can't help feeling denied though. Sally went with me the last time I went grocery shopping. I always try to find bread made with something other than wheat, rye,..etc. I keep looking for bread made with something like soy flour. You know, when I first found out that I had Celiac Disease, Tanya suggested that I try Potato Bread. She said that's what she had always eaten when she lived in Germany and had never had white flour bread until she moved here. So, I thought, "What the hell? I'll give it a whirl." Yes, it's wonderful. Of course I love it, it's extremely high in calories. Anything that's bad for me, is an automatic "love". I happened, one day, to take a gander at the ingredient list on the side of the bread package. The second ingredient: wheat flour. Tell me why someone would have the bright idea to put wheat flour in potato bread? This makes absolutely no sense to me. I told Sally, in a joking way, when she was grocery shopping with me that I felt as if I were being discriminated against in the food arena. I was joking at the time, but now, I'm wondering why everything has to be made with bleached, processed-to-within-an-inch-of-it's-life, white flour, something that any nutritionist would tell you is one of the worst things you could put in your body? Why does nearly everything have to have a wheat-something in it? I can't be the only person who can't digest wheat gluten and is allergic to it. I know I'm not.

God, what a harpie I am today. I suppose I'll just have to learn how to make my own breads and whatnot. *gasp*

Anyway, it's Monday again and a several things are happening today. The first of which is that I'm going to give y'all the treat of checking out these awesome blogs who bid to be my renter this week.

1. Haunted House Dressing
Don't ask what it means. I don't know what it means, but it conjures up some pretty weird images for me of performing Thanksgiving indecencies with a turkey. (Have you ever seen dressing being put inside of a turkey? I personally can't watch it. It causes my eyes to squint and to blink uncontrollably. I feel as if I'm watching something pornographic.) Anyway, this blog is interesting, to say the least.

2. Web Development Mastering Tips
Very informational. Especially for those of us who seemingly can't live without blogging.

3. lilfunky1:a unicycling materialistic minimalist
She is actually my renter on my other blog Humanis Vegetalis so I don't feel so guilty for not pimping her here. She was, by her own admission, "blogging before blogging was cool". Plus she rides a unicycle, man. That's gotta be worth checking out.

4. Cat's Cradle Creations
She's a fellow Southerner, albeit, displaced. Seriously, she's been very kind to me. Go peruse her blog. It has bees on it.

5. A Templar Knight-The Quest Begins
Honestly, I don't really know what to think of this guy. He says that he's a member of the Priory of Scion. I didn't know that organization actually existed outside of Dan Brown's novels, which I love, by the way. Regardless, he seems interesting enough for a good gander, at least. So go, or else he might show up at your blog all armour plated.

EDIT: The Templar Knight emailed me and corrected me on my statement of him being a member of the Priory of Scion. He said that he is not, but that he is a Templar Knight. I emailed him back and asked him just exactly how one becomes a Templar Knight, since I thought that organization had been defunct for several centuries. There could be a rather interesting reply. Just for F.Y.I.: He says he can't "pop 'round" just now because his armour is at the cleaners.

6. StevBlogs.com
This blog seems to be a lot about finding peace-inner and outer I'm guessing.

7. Say No To Crack
Funny that this blog title brings back so many memories. My friends and I used to say that all the time, accompanied by the obligatory showing of the butt crack. Not all of it, mind you, just the top bit a la "plumber's crack". This was a source of great amusement for us. We were easily amused. This blog easily amuses me as well. Plus, the header is a toilet. I love that.

I'm going to put my renter The Screaming Pages an individual post with much pimpage to be had. So be watching for that. Y'all know there's no telling what I might say at any given moment. I'm highly medicated. That's my excuse and I'm stickin' with it. But, now that I think about it, does one really need an excuse to be themselves, whatever that self may be? I'm odd, eccentric; the square-peg-in-a-round-hole person. I could quote something from the Marquis de Sade here about not changing for anyone, but that might come off a bit indecent, considering the source.

I'll also be pimping lilfunky1 on my other blog, to which there is a convenient hot link here. That should be interesting as well. I'll try to be a bit more proper since my other blog deals with more serious things, but I can't promise anything.

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Thursday Thirteen #5

Thirteen Things about Anias Nin

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

The List

1. Last night, while pre-heating the oven for what I was hoping to be some tasty chicken enchiladas, I realized when the oven had completely pre-heated that I had forgotten to take the boxes of Krispy Kreme doughnuts out that my dad bought the other night, out first. The boxes didn't catch fire (thank you Lord), but the doughnuts look a little worse for wear. All the icing and stuff has melted off of them, but hey, they're Krispy Kremes, they're definitely still quite edible.

2. My psychiatrist lowered my dosage of Klonopin last week and I am so much more clear-headed now. I'm even dreaming again, which I wasn't doing (or at least I wasn't remembering them) when I was on the higher dosage. And (bonus) I have not had any more urges to self-injure. Last night, though, after I ate my chicken enchiladas, I was so full that I kept having thoughts of purging. I didn't, though. I just kept thinking, "If it's not one thing, it's another. The damn voices (I realized last night where those particular voices were coming from and they weren't my voices.) just never stop. The obsessive thoughts lasted for a couple of hours, as long as I could feel that my stomach was full. I kept massaging it in a vain effort to make it digest the food faster so I wouldn't have that full feeling thinking that if I didn't feel so full that I wouldn't keep wanting to run to bathroom and vomit.

3. I had a dream last night that my dad remodeled the house and made it a four-bedroom/3 bath house. Of course, it was his bedroom and bathroom that were the add-ons. The dream was so detailed. It was amazing. When I told my dad about it this morning, I told him that in my dream, he had this huge bed with a huge wooden headboard and footboard. I asked him, "Did you ever have a bed like that?" He looked very surprised and said, "Yes, but I haven't had that bed since you were little. I can't believe you remember it in such detail." Strange, isn't it? The things that come up in dreams. That's not the first time that I've "remembered" something in a dream from my early childhood that was very detailed. My parents kind of freak out when I tell them about things like that.

I can only thing of these right now, but later on today, I'll finish it. I think I have brain block or brain drain or whatever. I just can't concentrate.

EDIT: Ok I'm a lazy bum. I'm going to try and finish this list. Not that it's a chore or anything. I just find these days that it's harder to concentrate than it was before I started taking my crazy meds.

4. While I was surfing blogs yesterday (Wordless Wednesday), I came across several blogs that had music that automatically started when the web page loaded. I also came across this when I was surfing on Blog Explosion, Blog Mad, and Blog Soldiers. Now, I have nothing against music, perse, I listen to music all the time. It's a very important part of my life. That's the thing, though, when I'm looking at different blogs, I most likely have some music playing and to come across a site that has it's own music playing almost sends me into panic mode. It's like sensory overload. I don't expect those who have music that starts automatically on their blogs to take it off just because of me. I just have a question: Why? There are music hosting sites where you can get code to put on your page that doesn't start automatically. I don't mean to make anyone angry or to offend anyone. I think it's a very creative idea to have music on your page, just not the kind that starts whether you want it to or not. I think people should at least have a choice of whether or not to listen to the music that is put on blogs. Ok, that's the end of my soapbox standing.

5. I have, in my garage a perfectly fine vacuum cleaner. It's relatively new and, by all accounts, should work fine. Except for one thing. It eats belts. I went to the Sears satellite that is in the next town over (because the only store besides gas stations in my town is the Dollar General) and bought a little bag of about 3 or 4 belts for the vacuum cleaner. I now have one left. Here's what happens: I replace the belt. I start the vacuum cleaner. It works great for a few minutes, then I start to smell burnt rubber. I take the hood off that covers the working parts (it's an upright) to find that the vacuum cleaner has melted the belt. Ok, I'm not a neat freak by any means, but occasionally (like once or twice a month or whenever I get the urge) I'd like to be able to use my vacuum cleaner. Why is it that I paid all that money for a vacuum cleaner that was supposed to be top-of-the-line and it only worked right for the first month I had it? Damn, I didn't even get kissed.

6. I've effectively stopped going to class, so in a few days I'll have to go up to the campus and drop the three classes that I've been trying to finish. Dammit. This is the third (or is it the fourth?) time that this has happened to me and it's because of my mental problems. God, I only have 3 more Psych. classes to take before I get that degree and maybe about 5 or 6 more Spanish classes to take before I get that degree. I'm so freakin' close to finishing. I have a 3.5 cumulative grade point average. It's not like I'm stupid. I can do the work. It's just that sometimes I can't leave my house or I have a panic attack in the middle of class or I get so depressed that I don't finish or even start projects/homework that I know I'm supposed to do. Yes, I'm on a new med, Lamictal, but I'm not up to the dosage I'm supposed to be yet and the titration is agonizingly slow. So, I'm going to have to write yet another letter to the Financial Aid board explaining the fact that I'm fucking crazy and hope to God that they give me back my financial aid yet again. Jesus, I'm so tired of this. I can't even describe the anxiety it causes. Sometimes, when I try to go to sleep at night, I'm so wound up worrying about it that I have what's called "pseudo seizures" where my entire body spasms in different places at the same time (or in rapid sequence) and I cannot for the life of me control it. Talk about feeling crazy. That does it for me even if (by some miniscule chance that nothing else has happened) nothing else does. This is what permeates my daily life and I f***ing hate it.

7. I've discovered that I really like boxing. I watch it whenever I can when it comes on HBO. I don't know what it is about two men beating the shit out of each other that I find so interesting, but nevertheless, it glues me to the television and I get very irritated if I'm interrupted and have to leave the action (read: Dad has something that he wants me to do right now that could be done at any other time, but he gets obsessed over some things and wants me to do them ASAP.). My favorite boxers are (in no particular order): Wladimir Klitchko, Manny Pacqeou, Jerome Taylor (he's from Little Rock, so you know...) and some others that I can't believe I can't remember just now. I can't tell you guys how surprised my dad was to walk by my tv room one night and find me watching boxing. The look on his face was classic. Really. I wish I could've taken a picture.

8. I sent in a letter to the Financial Aid board on another matter: the one where the twat in the Financial Aid office (my FA advisor) screwed me out of my entire Pell Grant and then refused to admit it. I explained to them how she made that egregious error, refused to admit it and treated me so harshly and so rudely that an abuse memory was triggered. Tomorrow it will have been a month since I sent that letter. On the generic FA form I had to fill out and turn in with my letter, it said that the FA department has a 2-4 week response time for this type of thing (they also say that for my other letters I write when I appeal to get my financial aid back but the reply seems to be quicker with those). You know, to some people $1500.00 dollars might not seem like a lot of money, but to me, it's a mint. I only got $677 dollars back as my FA refund because of the twat's mistake. I tried to make it last as long as possible. I got the check in September-it's now the end of November-and I have $.15 cents in my bank account. Setting aside the fact that I think I managed what little money I had well, the fact is, I have no money. I need that Pell Grant money. Yes, I live with my dad, but that doesn't mean that he gives me money. He gives me $10.00 dollars here and there for things like toothpaste and tampons, but other than that no. I mean, I can't go asking him for money all the time. He's retired and on a fixed income and that income he has is stretched enough already with the house payment, electric, gas, car payments for both of our cars and other things. Thank God I have food stamps or I'd have nothing to eat, because the only thing Dad buys are crackers, bread and whiskey. He eats out for almost every meal. So, tomorrow, I guess I'll be calling the FA department at school, bite the bullet and talk to the twat about the delay in processing (or whatever else is going on) with my Pell Grant money. I expected to have it by now. You know, I'd really like to buy Christmas presents for my friends and family. Dad told me not to worry about buying Christmas presents, but I love to give gifts and Christmas is one of my favorite holidays (It takes some doing to get past all the shit that's thrown at you during Christmas-time, but I try not to watch too much tv and to ignore all that stuff. I just try to live in my own little Christmas world.), but it's important to me. Am I wrong to be this way?

9. I missed Celebrate Recovery tonight because I was too scared/embarrassed to go, so I took a bunch of migraine medicine and that knocked me out for about 3 hours. I don't know what I'm scared/embarrased of. They've never been anything but supportive of me. I feel kind of (really) stupid for letting those fears stop me from going to a place I know will help me to recover from my issues and being around people I know at least like me and are very supportive of me. Yes. I'm guilting myself. I think I have enough guilt for several people. *sigh* Hopefully, I can make it to church on Sunday.

10. I cleaned my tv room today. I'm proud of myself for doing that. I COULDN'T VACUUM THOUGH. Even still, it looks so much better and there's no longer just a little trail between stuff on the floor from the door to my chair. I feel like I accomplished something. Yay me. Maybe before the New Year, I can muster up the motivation to pick up the clothes and shoes in my room.

11. I watched a documentary on HBO the other night called "Thin". It followed 4 women who were inpatients at a facility that specialized in the treatment of eating disorders. Wow. I identified hardcore with those women. It was so graphic that I almost was triggered, but it was the fact that the documentary not only focused on their eating disorders, but also, them-their daily struggles, their personalities, their families-that kept me from purging that night. (See #2)

12. I've eaten Krispy Kremes for three days in a row. I'm afraid to get on the scale. My blood sugar and my allergies are totally out of control as well. Me-->alllergic to dairy and anything that has wheat products in it. The definition of self-punishment: eating things you know you're violently allergic to and that will make you feel like shit, but you do it anyway just because you have a craving. I must be PMS-ing. Is that T.M.I.? Oh well, most of the stuff on here is anyway. I don't know why I'm worried about telling everyone that I'm a PMS monster right now.

13. Wow. I made it to 13. For a person who said she didn't have much to say today I blabbed a lot. The last thing I have to say is that I hate that VISA commercial where everyone is standing in line for food and everything is flowing smoothly. The cooks are flowing with each other; the customers are flowing with each other. Just because everyone is paying with their VISA check card. Then, one guy comes up and pays with cash and the whole process takes a jerky fall. The cooks can't get their thing on; the customers drop their food and look around like someone just shot a gun and yelled, "I'm robbin' this place!". Ok. Here's the thing: On the surface this seems funny, but if you read between the lines this commercial is saying to us, the buying public, that if we use cash we are subverting the system; throwing a wrench into it so that it doesn't work as smoothly. Everytime I see that damn commercial I keep thinking of Revelation and the part where it talks about that no one can buy or sell anything without the "mark". Hello? Cashless society anyone? Yeah, maybe I'm paranoid; maybe I'm a conspiracist, but regardless, that commercial irritates the crap out of me.




As I was hanging out with God this morning as has been my goal for a couple of weeks now, he reached right down into that sensitive thing that I've been carrying around with me for the last 11 years. This is what he said to me via Scripture:

Jeremiah 2:2
"I remember you,
The kindness of your youth,
The love of your betrothal,
When you went after me in the wilderness,
In a land not sown."

In this way, I felt he let me know that he remembers all that happened when I rededicated my life to him and all the difficulties and hardships I faced working with Sold Out Ministries.

Logically, you know that God never forgets anything, right? But there's a difference between head-knowledge and heart-knowledge. He made me feel that all that I went through wasn't for nothing. That he remembers me. He remembers me. He loves me. So simple, right?

It's my way to overlook the simple things and to make everything harder than it has to be and when something as simple as a heart-touch from God letting me know that he knows and loves me comes, it's as if I were that blind man and Jesus put mud on my eyes, rinsed it off and then-all of the sudden-I can see. It's a major thing. I guess it wouldn't be a major thing if I really believed all the time that he loved me and remembers the things I've done for him in love. I make the mistake of equating his love with the love of human beings, which is conditional. I've never felt like anyone loved me unconditionally so I try so hard to make people like/love me. I go overboard. I make myself sick sometimes with worry and effort. I want to be loved. I want my love to be known and appreciated. This is what God said to my heart this morning and it broke me-totally.

That thing (or things) that you carry around in your heart, that secret thing, that amazingly painful thing, that thing that you think will burden you for the rest of your life-that's what he touched in me. I can't describe how I felt when I realized it. I curled my entire body into as much of itself as I could and cried like a child and I knew, I knew that he was holding me and comforting me. All I could say and kept saying over and over and over again was, "Thank you."

I'm not relating all of this in an attempt to brag and saywithoutsaying, "Look at me! I'm so spiritual that God chose to touch me!" No. No. No. If anything, I am the least of all God's children. I only try to relate this experience in my broken way because it was so amazing and it was such an intense experience. It's more like a wow-he-chose-to-remember-me-even-though-I'm-such-a-complete-ass thing.

I'm going to tuck this experience away in my heart so that no one can take it from me so that I will remember it because I'm so good at forgetting.


Wordless Wednesday


C&C Monday Time!

How this works: Look to your left and clickety-click on my renter OneManBandWidth, or if that's not what you want to do (you'll seriously be missing out if you don't though), find someone on my super-interesting blogroll and click on them. Be sure to leave them a comment! Also, leave your name and blog address so they can come see you! I'm going to have Mr. Linky's Ever Linkies at the bottom of this post, so when you come to visit me, leave your name and blog addy in the boxes there and I'll come to see you too! Don't forget to leave me a comment-I'll be sure to reciprocate!

Cat has been hosting this every Monday and, I have to admit, it's an excellent idea. It gives us a chance to discover new people and see what they have to say. Also, it brings visitors to your site and hopefully they will get to know you and vice-versa. It's an uber-wonderful way to make friends! Sometimes, you may run into someone who doesn't have a renter to visit. That's no problem just peruse their blogroll and visit someone from there. You just might find that you end up right where you started (which is kind of weird when I think about it, considering there are so many blogs on the internet, but it does happen)!

Like I said last Monday, notoriously everyone hates Mondays, myself included. One of my favorite songs even laments Mondays (I Don't Like Mondays~Tori Amos). I think it's time we liberate Monday from it's terrible reputation! Don't you? This is a great way to make the start of your week!

I have a class today, so I can't surf as much as I'd like to, but I do plan to surf when I get back. I love being on my computer. What can I say? It's interactive and way more interesting than watching television (except 'Heroes'-that comes on later tonight-won't be much surfing going on for that hour).

For those who have been so kind and supporting of me, a huge hug and thanks for y'all. My arm is healing well and I've had no more urges to cut or burn myself since my Klonopin dosage was reduced. I am however having some DTs (withdrawal symptoms) because Klonopin is physically addictive. My body has been trembling alot and my hands are shaky and I shiver a lot, but it's a small price to pay I think for being able to think clearly again and not wanting to hurt myself all the time. Plus, the self-destructive voices have been much quieter and more easy to push off than they were before. *relief* I'll have to post some info about Klonopin on my other blog Humanis Vegetalis. I think it will inform me just as much as anyone else.

I sincerely hope everyone has a good day! I'm going to try to.



I've Never Been To China

I have an uber-intelligent and quite versatile-in-his-thinking roomie this week, OneManBandWidth. He's an American professor living and teaching in China. Seriously, y'all check out his blog. I did and found out so much about China that I didn't know (Of course, that wouldn't be too hard since I know next-to-nothing about China except for the little bit my dad tells me about his time in the Navy when he was there, but they left on the day that Mao Tse Tung took over the country. He said they saw his army coming on the horizon and decided to book it on out of there. Good idea, yes?) He's got amusing political cartoons and amusing, but informative, political views about China. He's a hidden treasure, y'all. You'll be missing out big-time if you don't take a good gander at his blog.



Is It Nap Time Yet?

I was planning on doing Thursday Thirteen today, but I'm not in the state of mind to think of anything witty or worth writing. I feel boring today. I have a friend who says I should embrace "feeling boring", because, he says that's what life is all about-being boring. I don't know, though. I think I'd rather be feeling creative or funny or anything else but boring.

Bored yet?

Maybe I'll feel creative or something later. Who knows. I may just sleep all day.



Wordless Wednesday


Weakness, God & Self-Mutilation

Last night I cut my arm again. Not even four days after the last time. I don't know exactly what possessed me to do it. The night before, I spent about an hour crying-mourning the death of my brother in Christ, David. I just miss him so very much. I know he's with God, but just because I'm selfish, I want him to come back here and be with me. God....I just miss him.

Last night, I downed four of my Klonopin pills at one time (I had taken two earlier that day, which is part of the regular dosage I'm supposed to take-the other is two at night) and then went into the kitchen and began to slice my arm all over with wild, quick strikes. It was so random. Not like last time. Last time, they were all in a row and all about the same length. This time, they're all over the place-some deeper than others. Some on my wrist, up by the crease of my elbow and some on the inside of my arm. One in particular, wouldn't stop bleeding for a long while and I was afraid I was going to need stitches, but thankfully, it stopped.

I don't know why I treat myself so viciously. Let me re-word that-I know that I don't have much love for myself and am constantly in a day-to-day battle to overcome the things that have happened to me. I'm sure that this will be a battle that will last the rest of my life. It's just that I've never really been a cutter until now. The last time I had a phase of this was in 1984, when I was 14. This was the year that my grandfather(the pedophile) died and it was the start of my freshman year at a new school in a new town following my first rape that summer only a few months before. I never really "cut" though. I burned myself with knives that I had held over heat until the blade had become red-hot. This cutting I'm doing now, doesn't make me feel that same release as the burning. I know this because the first time I self-mutilated this time, I did the same thing I did at fourteen. It hurt, obviously, but the release and feeling of wellness after was amazing and it lasted for a few weeks. This cutting I'm doing now doesn't really do anything for me like that. So, I'm not quite sure why I'm doing it. Psychologically speaking, people usually keep doing things that give them rewards i.e. good feelings. That's why some people eat when they're not hungry/stressed/sad, it gives them a sense of well-being and satisfaction (at least temporarily). This thing I'm doing to myself now just makes me feel like shit and yet I feel compulsed to do it. Last night, the large serrated-edged knife was "calling" to me from the kitchen (not literally-that would make me crazy, right?). I balled up my fists and clenched my entire body in frustration and an attempt to resist, but the next thing I remember, there I was in the kitchen going away with the knife like I was slicing roast beef that had a picture of my grandfather's face on it. I didn't cry. I just did it and left the kitchen, went to the bathroom, washed my arm under the water, put antisceptic on it and went to my room.

I don't know why. There's not many things in my life that I've looked to God and asked angrily, "Why?". My grandfather, the rapes, David's death. I can't remember ever asking why my parents beat me so cruelly. I suppose I felt that I deserved it. That was their big mind-fuck. They make you think it's your fault that they say terrible things to you and beat you to within an inch of your life.

You know, God has never seen fit to answer my "why" questions. It's been/is very hard for me to accept. I even turned completely away from God for a time because I was so angry with Him for not telling me why these things happened to me. That's not to say that I'm still not angry, just not as angry as before. The last ten years God has slowly been wooing me back into His arms. I finally figured out that the closer I am to God, the less those things hurt me. There's still part of me that still wants to blame Him. Like a child, I stomp my foot and demand answers from someone who knows infinitely more about everything than I do. And sometimes, I get angry and curse Him and tell Him that I hate Him; then I feel like total shit. I have a total breakdown, cry and beg Him to rescue me from the ledge I've put myself on. He always does.

I guess you could say that I'm not very close to God right now. I don't really know if that's true or if it's me cutting myself in another way. The voices get so loud sometimes, that I can't hear myself think.



Click&Comment Monday

Each and every Monday Cat has been hosting "Click and Comment Monday". All of us have blogrolls and some of us also have Blog Explosion renters or are Blog Explosion rentees. This makes it so easy to get to know other bloggers. (Just a personal note: I'm finding out that there actually are kind people in the World of Blog and their kindness not only floors me but also I am extremely thankful for it.) If you want to meet and get to know some great people and increase your readership at the same time, this is the way to do it!

How it works: See my renter, Aeowolf? Click the screen shot there of his blog and you'll be in his wonderful world! Leave him a comment along with your name and blog addy. Tell him I sent you! Next thing: Peruse his blogroll and click on someone you think looks interesting. Leave them a comment, your name and blog addy so they can come and visit you! It's all reciprocal. You C&C me; I C&C you and so on and so forth.

Like I said last Monday, most everyone hates Mondays because they are the start of the week and that means work or school or just simply the end of the weekend. I had myself a good ol' fashion cryin' spell last night mourning the death of my brother, David, so I'm really not looking forward to today either. But I can say that this is the bright spot. I just love meeting new people and getting to know them.

So get ta' clickin' y'all!

I'm adding Mr. Linky's Ever Linkies to this post (see below), so when you come by leave your name and addy in the boxes there and be sure to leave me a comment! Then I'll come and see you!

I sincerely hope everyone has a good Monday. I know I hope today is a good one for me.



Look Ma! I Made A New Blog!

I feel:: excited, hopeful

I've started another blog: Humanis Vegetalis. It's going to have all kinds of info on Depression and other things related to being depressed, ways to overcome it. It hopefully will be just busting at the seams with info. I've put a link to it in my sidebar. I hope you guys check it out and I hope it informs and educates people on depression and other aspects of Psychology.



Can't Stop Laffin'

Totally nicked from The Queer Chef.



My New Roomie

On the left you'll see that I have an awesome new renter this week Aeowolf. (The name reminds me of Beowulf, which is a story that I absolutely love.)

He's muy intelligente and blogs about his observations on what he sees around him in his daily life. Plus he has a wolf on his page that you can play with and feed steak to. He's absolutely the bee's knees. So get on over there and tell him I sent you!


Thank You, Thank You, Thank You

To all the people who bid on my blog a big *HUG* for you! I wish I could have more than one renter. It's so hard to choose.

Here's the links to everyone who bid to be my BE renter this week:

1. Cofeestoned
2. Women Diary
3. CoolAdzine For Marketers
4. Useless Advice From Useless Men
5. Chocablog
6. My Life In Italy
7. The Foo Logs
8. a unicycling materialistic minimalist
9. Musings Of A Filipino Lesbian

All of these blogs are wonderful. 'Women Diary' is chock full of women-centered info like fashion and women's issues and causes. 'Useless Advice From Useless Men' is just hysterical. 'The Foo Logs'-well, their reputation preceeds them (in a good way). That's just a sampling. I encourage everyone to visit these blogs and discover some interesting things/people you didn't know before.

Again, I'm so sorry that I could only choose one. Please continue to bid.


Thursday Thirteen (on Friday no less) #4

I feel:: bitchy, sleepy

Forgive me y'all. I've been a day behind all week this week. It's been kind of a bad week.

Thirteen Things about Anias Nin

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

1. I saw my first 3-D movie last night (Thursday. It still feels like Thursday for me because I went to bed at 10pm and got up at 2:30am. Now, it's 5:30 and I feel like this day has gone on forever.). It was the re-release of The Nightmare Before Christmas. Pretty weird. The whole time I was in the movie, I was thinking to myself,"I'm so glad I don't get high anymore." That was like a 2-hour acid trip. I liked it even though watching for the entire length of the movie strained my eyes. When my friend, Ashley, and I left the movie, I had onehelluva headache. I didn't think it was possible for eyes to actually hurt that badly. Anyway, I had a good time which is the most important thing.

2. Ashley said she'd heard some guy on a local radio station earlier today singing a song to the tune of an old June Carter song, but he changed the words to, "B double E double R -U -N. Beer Run". I can't remember how the June Carter song goes, but it's something like, "I'll get a ....... and you'll get a....... honey". If anyone would like to refresh my memory regarding that song I would love it because it's been gnawing at me ever since she first sung it in the car earlier. Anyway, I thought it was hysterical. What was even more funny is that when we got into the movie theater and sat down, (I always sit at the very top. I have this thing about people sitting behind me in movie theaters. It makes me paranoid.) we saw that we were only a few seats away from a group of what looked like redneck stoners. At one point before the movie started, the tall guy of the group got up and said something, but all I heard was "beer". Then, he turned to Ashley and I and said, "Y'all want some beer?" At which point we both looked at each other and sang in unison, "B double E double R -U -N. Beer Run". They laughed. We giggled our asses off. (And no, we didn't take them up on the offer of beer. We had snuck in our own contraband via my huge purse. Always take a huge purse to the movies, that way you can ghetto-style it and bring in all sorts of things...like tacos and fried chicken. You just have to wait 'till the lights go down to eat it. Besides, who wants to pay 5.00 dollars for a small soda when you just paid 10.00 just to get in the damn movie?)

3. I was supposed to go to math class yesterday and take a test, but I didn't. That's the second test I've missed. I suppose I'll have to drop that class too. That will leave me with only my Spanish class. God, this is a shitty semester. I hope the next one is better i.e. I don't have to drop so many classes and I don't have a major depressive episode every other damn day.

4. Y'all must excuse my excessive cursing. I'm still not completely over the anger I felt when I wrote that long rant the other day. I'm not so much pissed off like I was now I'm just uber-cranky.

5. My arm is pretty bad/ugly where I cut it up the other night. I did it with one of dad's serrated-edged knives. It's huge. I thought I heard the music from Psycho when I picked it up. Anyway, it's got a fever; it's warmer than normal to the touch. That means I've done myself a bad one this time. I've been washing it with antibacterial soap several times a day and keeping antiseptic wash on it. I really don't want it to get infected. At least it's not bleeding anymore. It does;however make me realize with a crystalline clarity just how sick I am and that no matter how good I feel, self-injury is never far away. There but for the grace of God go I and all that. I suppose that knowledge serves to keep me humble before God. Humbleness before God (and in my everyday life) is something I need-in spades. Among other things. Jesus that list could get really long.

6. I didn't do anything for Halloween this year. I didn't even give out candy. I just stayed in and watched horror flicks all night. When my dad got home from his nightly thing, he had some candy bars for me. So, it was pretty good. I did feel kind of selfish for not giving candy to the trick-or-treaters. But I usually dress up for Halloween even if I'm just staying home giving out candy. The children are usually afraid of me in whatever get up I choose. Last year, most of the children who came to my house had to be urged toward the door by their parents. They looked like they'd rather eat glass than come to my door, so maybe I did them a favor this year by not traumatizing them.

Ok, I'm going back to bed. Y'all will just have to wait until I wake up later to read the rest. Anway, if I continued right now you'd all probably die of boredom. You probably will anyway when I continue my list.

I'm up now. I've eaten and I think I'm as bright-eyed and busy-tailed as I'm going to get. So, on with the list....

7. Yesterday, I had to go up to UAMS (University of Arkansas for Medical Sciences), which is a huge campus. It's not only a hospital, but it's the only med school in the state. The campus also houses the State Mental Hospital where they have the non-violent crazies (like me) and the really violent ones. The campus is so big that when I went in the main doors and went up to the information desk to ask where the Outpatient Pharmacy was, the lady behind the desk paged a guy who drives a little golf cart to drive me to it. Holy crap. I don't know if any of y'all have ever had this experience, but it feels kind of like what I always wanted to do with a wheelchair-get in it and go obscenely fast so that everyone rushes to get out of your way. That's kind of what it was like. That was absolutely the best part of my day. I might even apply for that job. I know they have more than one golf-cart-driving person at that hospital. They have to. The campus takes up like a 5-mile radius.

8. The purpose of my going to UAMS yesterday was so that I could get my first M.A.P. prescriptions filled. I applied a few weeks ago for a program at UAMS called the Medication Assistance Program and it turns out that I'm so far below the poverty line that I qualify to get all my meds for free. Bonus! My psych meds are so damn expensive; it's unbelievable. Anyway, after my funfunfun ride to the Outpatient Pharmacy, I went up to the counter and handed the pharmacist this little blue coupon that the lady in charge of the M.A.P. program had given me. According to her, that was all I needed to get my prescriptions. I should have known it wouldn't be that simple. The pharmacist, who was extremely nice and patient, told me that she needed acutal written prescriptions from my psychiatrist in order to fill them. I thought, "No problem. I know he's at work. I'll just call him and let him talk to her." Good idea, right? (I thought so too.) I called. He wasn't there. One of the ladies in the office paged him. He never called back. Realize that now I've been at the hospital for over 2 hours. only about 10 minutes of which was spent on the ride over to the pharmacy. I finally got my prescriptions at like 4:30. What was amazing about that, other than the fact that I had to wait for over 2 hours to get only two prescriptions filled, was that the whole time I never got mad. Usually, when I'm in situations like that, I get soooo bitchy, but yesterday I was all peaches and cream. Weird. Maybe it was the golf cart ride over. It was so freakin' funny to see self-important doctors grab the hospital walls when the saw the cart coming. I had giggled myself right into a stomach cramp by the time he dropped me off at the pharmacy.

9. I've had two dreams in the past two weeks (one per week) where I was in some kind of prison trying to escape. I'm a firm believer that our subconscious mind speaks to us through dreams and I'm wondering just what kind of prison I'm in. I mean, I can name off several things that are wrong with me, but I just don't know for sure what it is. I don't read those "dream analysis" books because everything is so general that anyone could apply anything in one of those books to any part of their life, not to mention their dreams. I've been thinking/praying about this since I had the first dream 2 weeks ago.

10 I submitted an appeal to the Financial Aid office 2 weeks ago because the fucking twat who is my financial aid advisor made an egregious mistake on my Income Verification Worksheet. Then, she had the nerve to try to blame it on me. That was the day I had my screaming hissy fit in the car. What's even better was that when I turned the paperwork in, which was a letter written by me and a general form, the twat was the only one working the financial aid desk at that time. I can remember repeating to myself, "I am a tree in the wind. I can bend. I can bend. I can bend." Thankfully, she didn't take any notice of me. I don't think she even looked at me. Thank God for small favors. Anyway, the mistake she made cost me my entire Pell Grant, which is something over $1,000.00 dollars. Understand, the refund check I get from my student loans and grants is the only money I have to live on, hence the reason I was so furious with her. (God, I'm pissed again just thinking about how she treated me. I so wanted to right-hook her right in her fucking sorority-blonde face.) So, according to the form I turned in, the wait time for a response is 2-4 weeks. This coming week will be the start of the third week, so I'm hoping to hear something pretty soon. If everything goes well, I'll be able to buy Christmas presents for my dad, mom and friends. *crosses fingers*

11. I've got to go out of the house today to yet another pharmacy to pick up another Lamictal starter kit, because the lady that is in charge of the M.A.P. program at UAMS,who was supposed to contact me last week so that I could come and get another coupon for the Lamictal prescription, didn't. So, in addition to the cluster-fuck that was my experience at the Outpatient Pharmacy yesterday, I had to call around to umpteen different pharmacies to see who stocked this particular Lamictal starter kit. I found one. One pharmacy out of the 10 or so that I called. The thing is, I don't want to leave the house today. I'm feeling rather anti-social, my left eye is twitching and I haven't bathed in a week (I think.). Needless to say, I'm in pretty bad shape today. All I want to do is to go back to bed and sleep the drugged sleep my psychiatric meds give me. I know, I know it's a cop out and I hate myself for being this way. But, I have to go get that starter kit today because I only have on pill left and if I skip even one day I'll have to start all over again with the dosage titration. What fun that would be *note sarcasm*.

12. Wow, I'm pretty bitchy today, aren't I? I think I need some ice cream. Ice cream makes everything better. At least temporarily.

13. I'm also craving some more cheesy horror flicks. I wonder if there's anything playing on the boob tube that's good? *rhetorical question* "Snarky" seems to be my middle name today.



If I Got Someone Else To Cut And Scar Me, It Wouldn't Be A Mental Disorder. It Would Be Called "Body Modification"~Scarification. Strange?

I cut my arm up again last night just after I wrote that long, angry post about my past. This is the worst yet. I seem to be more and more vicious with the cutting every time I do it.

I triggered myself and I'm so, so sorry if anyone who reads that gets triggered by it. I was so angry and I just had to get it out, y'know? I think that if a person holds in the things that make them angry that it eats away at you from the inside out until you're just a shell of a person. It destroys you. Trust me when I say that I am an expert at pushing my anger down and down until it feels like a stone in my stomach. Anyway, no more writing, for now, anyway. I was going to post some songs, but it seems like the server that I host my music on is down right now. Maybe I'll get to post some later.

EDIT: My music hosting service is back up, so I'm going to put a couple of songs on here that I love and that touch my heart.

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Tori Amos~Me And A Gun

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Tori Amos~Silent All These Years

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Over The Rhine~I Will Not Eat The Darkness


Wordless Wednesday (on Thursday)

EDIT: Because I was so tired when I was posting this on Wednesday, I put the wrong Mr. Linky code at the bottom. It's not TT. It's supposed to be Wordless Wednesday. I've got Ever Linkies now and I don't know how to change the widget once it's been designated the first time. Still, if anyone wants to leave thier blog addy and name in the widget, feel free. I'll come and visit you, too.



Let Me Say That God Loves Everyone, Of That I Have No Doubt Whatsoever. I Don't.

I feel:: suicidal/homicidal/self-injurious/angry as fuck/frustrated/emasculated


Someone named RW commented on the review I got from IT2M (I hotlinked it in the previous post. I'm not linking to it again.) and quoted something I had said in one of my previous posts about how I feel like I live my life mostly in fear and that I wish I were braver. He said that if I opened up more about myself that I might have some good content on my blog. (If anyone cares to read past the last few months of posts, you can find that my entire past is layed out rather graphically.) For those who either don't care or don't want to take some time to read previous posts, I'll "open up" and let you in about me and what has happened to me/what I've endured in my life. (Incidentally, I'm not angry with RW because his comment was the only one that contained constructive criticism. That, I can handle.)

1. Both of my parents are alcoholics and were/are abusive in every way you can imagine.

2. I was molested by my maternal grandfather from age 3 until the year before he died when I was 13. I have a huge memory hole for those 10 years of my life and it causes me indescribable pain on a daily/hourly/minute-by-minute basis.

3. I've been raped four times. I can have flashbacks,accompanied by full-on panic attacks, of any of those rapes at any time. It doesn't matter when or where.

4. I'm a former addict: cocaine, crack, meth, LSD, alcohol, pot, crank,...I can't remember what else. My memory is a bit shot in some areas.

5. I am a former stripper. I'm not proud of that fact.

6. I have been diagnosed with severe, chronic depression, Panic Disorder, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and a host of other things I'm sure are in my file that I haven't read. At the moment am on 3 different meds: Prozac-80mg/day (the largest dosage. You can't go any higher on this drug.), Lamictal-100mg/day (my psychiatrist wants me to eventually be at 200-250mg/day, but the titration has to be slow, otherwise I could come down with a potentially fatal rash), Klonopin-.5mg 4x/day (I tend sometimes to take more of this than is prescribed for me, especially when I'm having a really bad day. I makes me numb and I'd rather be numb than be cutting myself up or trying to commit suicide.)

7. I'm a cutter.

8. I pull skin compulsively off my face, fingers and toes. The technical diagnosis for this is Skin Picking. I will compulsively pick at the skin in these places until I realize that I'm bleeding and usually I don't realize it until there is a significant amount of blood. My psychiatrist once asked me if it hurt when I did that to myself. It does, but I do it anyway. It hurts less than what's inside. Same goes for the cutting.

9. I'm 36 years old and a senior double-major at the university here where I live. I'm majoring in Psychology and Spanish. I have a 3.5 cumulative G.P.A. I have 3 more classes to finish to get my Psych degree and about 5 or 6 more to get my Spanish degree.

10. I live at home with my father because he's 76 and handicapped. The girl who reviewed my site at IT2M made fun of the fact that I'm in my 30s and living at home with my dad. I guess if it were up to her, he'd be in some shitty old folks home being neglected and abused. Go ahead. Make some more fun of the fact that I've put my entire life on hold to take care of my father in his last years even though he was extremely abusive to me my entire life and continues to be so. He may be an asshole, but he's my father and there is a part of me that loves him.

11. I found God at 18, but it didn't really make a huge impact on my life at that time. I mean, right after that is when I started stripping and getting deeper and deeper into the drug scene here. I was once almost sold as chattel to a drug dealer for an 8-ball of cocaine by my boyfriend at the time.

12. I will never have children because of the damage that has occurred to my female parts due to the 10-year abuse of my grandfather and the four rapes. I also have bowel trouble (what I mean here is that occasionally I can't hold my bowels) because of the many times my grandfather shoved his cock in my asshole when I was a little girl. How's that for honest? Go ahead and make a joke that I should wear Depends. I'm waiting for it.

13. I tried to commit suicide the first time when I was 10-years old, the second and third times when I was in high school, the fourth time was during my 2-year stint at Henderson college right after I graduated high school (right after the third rape), the fifth time I tried to commit suicide was in '97. I haven't tried since then, but I have daily suicidal ideations and I constantly hear voices in my head telling me that I ought to just off myself because I'm not worth anything, no one loves me and no one ever will. It's a huge effort to push those voices away every single day of my life.

14. I've slept with over 100 different men in my life. Another fact I'm not proud of. You can call me a slut and a whore if you choose to, but I can guarantee you that I can be much, much more cruel to myself than you could ever think of being.

15. I rededicated my life to God at age 21 and worked with a street ministry called Sold Out for the next ten years. For five years, I ran a battered women's/homeless women's shelter for them out of my apartment (I was not paid for any of this. I did it voluntarily.) During that time, I lived in the building we called "Ground Zero", which was where we also had band practice and my friends Richard and Kacey (who were married) lived across the hall from me. They took in homeless and abused boys and men, housed and fed them for free just as I did with the women I took in.

16. When I lived at Ground Zero, I had two full time jobs, but because I had to spend so much money on the band, the building, (it was not up to code, and the landlord refused to fix anything. I went one entire winter without heat and it was so cold that I had ice on the inside of my apartment windows.) and the women I took in that I never had any money for myself. I would go for months without eating and drinking only water so that the women and children who stayed with me could have food to eat and the necessities they needed. Go ahead, call me stupid for sacrificing everything for people I didn't know. If there were more people who did just a little sacrificing for a few people they didn't know this world would be a better place.

17. I have recurring problems with anorexia and bulimia due to the past abuse and the time at Ground Zero when I would have to go without food for so long. Imagine, if you can, seeing people around you eat their fill and being afraid to eat and yet wanting to more than anything in the world. Try to imagine what that's like. Try to imagine being so thin that your hair starts to fall out and your body grows a downy layer of hair all over because your body can't hold it's temperature (the hair is called Lanugo).

I don't care if anyone doesn't like the design of my blog or what I write in it. I like it. It's my blog; it's about me. It doesn't have to have a particular theme. I am the theme. It's either writing in this blog or I go into the nut house.

I work hard on the fractals I make. I spend hours and hours making them on my computer (there's one in the background of my template). I've showed them to different artists from all over the country and gotten rave reviews from them. I've had offers to submit my art for art shows. I've had people offer to buy my art for ridiculous sums of money. If you don't like it, that's fine. Like I said in my previous post, not everyone likes the same thing. After all, we're all individuals, thank God.

I made a serious mistake submitting my blog for review to those vultures at IT2M.
Not only did they rip me a new one, but so did most of the commenters. Tell me it's stupid that I got my feeling's hurt and that my suicidal ideation/cutting voices have gotten louder in the last few days. I already feel stupid. I feel stupid most of the time and it's been my lifetime journey/challenge to realize that I'm not stupid or any other insult that can be thrown at me. So, don't judge me on one page of participation posts i.e. Wordless Wednesday and Thursday Thirteen. I happen to like those. If you think they're stupid or whatever, keep it to yourself. Don't ram it down my throat. I've had my fill of cocks/opinions/ideas being rammed down my throat against my will.

If you like me, that's all good and I'll be sure to reciprocate any kindness/friendship you send my way. If you don't like me, that's all good to. Just grab the horse you fucked on your way into town and ride his ass right out and don't let the swingin' doors of the bar you got pissed in hit you in the ass on your way out.

So go ahead, "Sassy Sadie", bash me some more.Tell me at least one more time to lick your cunt. Call me a whore/slut/ or whatever other totally unoriginal insult you can think of. I've had a lifetime of abuse. I'm sure you're anxious to get on with the tradition, right? And just for the record, based on your comment on IT2M, I do think you're stuck in puberty.

The fact that you and your commenters continue to try to rip apart what little self-esteem I have even after I've said that for me this whole incident is over and done with proves the fact that your site is not just for "entertainment purposes only". It proves that you have a goal: a goal to make everyone else feel like shit; therefore making yourself feel better/ look better. Newsflash: This is a bad tactic.