Depression Sucks, So Give It The Finger

I have been depressed this entire year. Yup; from before the first second until now. Through now.

However……..

I put chocolate syrup in my coffee today. I had a bitchin’ bowl of homemade stew. Callista is wearing a Hello Kitty nightgown while doing her school work. I have a mohawk I love, friends I love, family I love. I don’t live where I want, I don’t have everyone here that I want. The past year and a half has been incredibly painful and difficult in ways words cannot describe. But I am still here, I am still smiling (now with 100% MOAR TEETHS, as Scott put it), and every day is another chance to pick my stubborn ass back up, dust off, and keep skipping along with a twinkle in my eyes. Or crawling with a twinkle, on the bad days.

I may seem happy most of the time.. and once upon a time, I was. It is not easy maintaining a positive outlook, especially when I was 100% negative until 8 years ago, but I am positively sure I don’t give two shits how hard it is; this hooker abides.

I can’t explain it, but I feel yesterday and today are vital turning points in the struggle (I have partially subjected myself to) of the past 18 months or so. Hard days are inevitable. Depression, for me, is inevitable. ACCEPTING either without busting ass to change them are not. So bring on the bright sparkly whatevers, and bust out the toothy grins, bitches, and make today what you will. xo

Depression isn't the killer - our choices are.

Depression isn’t the killer – our choices are.

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Mawwaige Is What Bwings Us Togevvuh, Today!

My daughter, 8, asked me (via written message on a whiteboard, complete with yes/no check boxes) if I am going to marry a specific someone one day. Which she followed up with a note asking me to not be mad at her asking, she was just curious. (No worries, dear reader, I told her in no uncertain terms she can ask me anything any time and I will answer to the best of my ability…and I will not be upset over the asking of questions.) This got me thinking, as the topic of marriage usually does.

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So this post will likely not be easy to type.  But then none of the recent ones have been.  Alright, I will be honest.  Precious few of them are easy for me to type, because I am reaching in to a pitted and torn soul and pulling out pieces to share with you.  It doesn’t even matter so much that you, anyone, read them so much as I type them and put them out here so they CAN be read.  And I can explain it no further than that.

I recently – just a few minutes ago – watched a viral video from YouTube user SupDaily06…I am sure most of you have seen it fly past your FaceBook feed if nothing else.  It is the video of a straight man talking about a recent viral video of a teenager coming out to his parents about being gay.  First, if you haven’t seen the video, I want you to watch the video before you continue reading.

Now on to why this hits me, a straight (but never narrow) 34 year old woman RIGHT in dem feels… Continue reading

Suicide IS Painless..Only to the Dead

I have read so much over the past few days about depression and suicide. It has long disgusted me how we, as a people, will band together over a situation short-term, yet go back to our petty ridiculous squabbles so quickly. I most certainly have my own very strong thoughts about both depression and suicide, as I have survived depression so long, and have known so fucking many people who have killed themselves.

I cannot tell you when I was diagnosed as bipolar, which used to be known as manic depression, which used to be known as blah blah what the fuck ever. A lot of people have it. So what? Every person on this planet goes through periods of depression. It is a part of life to have high and low points. Some of us are lucky/blessed/whatever to have more highs than lows, some of us are unlucky/cursed/whatever enough to have more lows than highs. Some of us are intelligent enough to realize our perspective changes the situation for our own good, regardless what happens. I cannot tell you when I was diagnosed because, as with most things in my life, I simply do not remember. Head wounds, what wonderful things.

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The Life of a Human Reverse-Cicada and the Songs She Sings..

…Or maybe, more to the point, making myself sing, even when everything in me wishes to scream.

Three days ago, 22July2014, I drove through a rainbow. Yes, through.  This is not even scientifically possible, yet it happened.  It happened quite clearly.  I have never actually seen the end of a rainbow in my entire 34 years. Rainbows are the dispersion of light through water in the air, so you should never be able to drive through one, as your perspective would keep you seeing the rainbow ever in front of you.  Even seeing an “end” is highly unlikely, though if you have a clear view for a long enough distance, it would be possible.  Where I was driving, the visibility was .. let us say what happened should not have been possible, but happen, it did.

I have seen several things in my life that should not be possible.  It does not really matter which things.  They happened, they are done.  I do not read horoscopes.  I do not look for signs.  However, I have noticed that sometimes things present themselves to us that seem to, upon later inspection, foreshadow later events.  After driving through the rainbow, I texted someone who is, despite no genetic link, my brother.  I told him after that, I was surely to die or win at life. Funny, that.  I have not yet died, but the next day proved… another small death of sorts.  And I have suffered so many of those in my life.

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Anxiety Attacks and drowning in the ocean…

It’s funny how, being classified as bipolar, when I get stressed enough, I stim like someone with autism, asbergers, Tourette’s, etc. And yes, I’m spelling shit all sorts of wrong, and, at the moment, I could give two fucks or a shit less about that or grammatical errors. I have been having fairly intense stims somewhere around an hour. For those of you who suffer from any psychological prizes (hey, let’s call it something fun, instead of a disorder!!), you know how utterly motherfucking god damb exhausting they can be. Just…life-draining. And when I stim, I tic like a motherfucker. Scratching, rubbing my fingers, hitting myself, rocking back and forth,openingand closin gmy mouth,s ieltn screams, rapid blinking, rapid eye movement, tapping, sometimes sounds.. I get a nice lovely run of the stim spectrum. LUCKY ME. Thankfully, it’s only when I am incredibly super HOLY FUCKSHIT stressed the motherfuc out. And I have been..

This time of year is always pretty fucking tough on me. Starting at the beginngin of July through about the first week of August. I adopted a son out the day he was born, August 4th, 2004. And starting about a month before, I just………sink. I sink beneathe the waves of.. everything. Sounds, tastes, touches, feels. thoughts, breaths, leaves, colours, life itself. I have to keep busy. God damn, do I have to keep busy. I will cut a fuckin gentire yard with a god damn pair of scissors if that is absolutely all I have I can do to keep busy. Today, I rearranged my entire livibng room. That may not seem like much, but I had to vacuum and spray for spiders, too, because I have apparently gained an infestation of cute cuddly wolf spiders. Absolutely adorable, not lethal to most folks, but their bites suck big bulbous elephant balls. And I don’t like things randomly crawling on my face for me to squash. Yes, this has happened. And these motherfuckers are fast as hell. Look them up. Shoo, spider, you belong outside. Assholes. Anyw ay. This involved moving one 32″? television that is somewhere around 75-100 pounds off a 2′ high stand across the room.. rearranging 2 oversized loveseats and an oversized couch, moving two old-school studio speakers (the 4′ tall heavy as fuck type), the tv stand and putting a 42″? 75″ television back on the fucking stand. Alone. While dodging fucking spiders and keeping the kid busy. Whereupon I also found a tote I forgot about, seeing how it was cleverly disguised as a side table (don’t ask) and I found old birthday cards. And pictures.

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Inconvenient Painful Truths

Yes, readers, if I’ve any left, I am back. And the title of this particular blog could not be more apt had I dreamed it, woken and immediately started clacking away at this worn and near-broken set of keys.

I have many things I need to say, want to say, and none of which are likely to come out with ease, if at all. I have been silent, have hidden prior posts, due to the feelings of someone else. Due to.. stupid reasons of my own choosing. Hell, I don’t even feel like posting this now, but I feel I must. I have several anniversaries of high import approaching, and this time of year is always a very hard one for me. And always one I face alone.

My adopted son will be 10 August 4th. Not a day passes where I don’t think of him, and remember my failures. And also the likelihood of what would have happened to him had he not been adopted out.. I keep hearing “everything for a reason” and “your happiness is right around the corner..” And it’s all bullshit. All of it. I had as much happiness, more, than I’d ever had. I met someone, and had even more. For a while. That did not last. Of course not. It seems in my life, I only get a taste of what I truly want for just long enough to really start thinking maybe, just maybe… NOPE. then it all falls apart.

Then again, August 27th marks 5 years being divorced from an abusive alcoholic misogynistic worthless asshole, so there’s that. And he didn’t manage to kill me, OR our daughter. Hooray!
Aside from that, you’d think I would get used to the disappointment, but I don’t. I never do. And this time, I gave a bit too much. Figures. It comes down to me being a crazy bitch, I suppose. But aren’t we all?

I have learned that love is not a lie; love is a liability.

When you stretch out your arms, close your eyes and jump from that ledge, chances are damn high someone won’t catch you. And that is okay. But when you truly believe, you KNOW this person WILL, and they won’t.. It crushes some very special parts of you that.. Hell, I don’t know if they’ll come back. And I honestly don’t care. What’s gone is gone. And what this experience has left me with is.. little.

"You've lost your muchness."

“You’ve lost your muchness.”

Yes, I have, Hatter. But I have come away with a soul that is slowly leaking away at the seams I can no longer sew together quickly enough. I cried out for help for once, and was answered “how”. I do not know. I only know I am mad, to the core, and sinking deeper in to a mire I’ve no strength nor motivation to climb from, because I gave my muchness to someone who did not care for it as he should have, because he was too worried about his past repeating itself, as opposed to happy I wasn’t his past. Only, now I am.. but his past didn’t repeat. I am a new past.

This is why I don’t ask for help. When the person people come to for help, to lean on, needs help, suddenly everyone disappears. Suddenly, no one knows what to do. And gods forbid they just sit, shut the fuck up, and listen. And since I would like them to just sit, not interrupting, shut the fuck up and listen, I have communication issues..no matter how many times I’ve done JUST that for them.

And this is why the strongest motherfuckers so rarely say a word, just end up found with a bullet through their heads. Because even when they said a fucking word, others just kept right on talking.

No, I’m not going to kill myself. I’m not a pussy. And no matter how hard or harsh shit gets, I’ve got shit to do. But seriously, motherfuckers, sometimes it’s YOUR turn to sit down, shut the fuck up, and listen. You’re not the only motherfucker who sometimes just needs a motherfucker to care, to listen.