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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On this, my deceased father’s birthday, an update of importance, if only to me.

I have been conspicuously silent the past few months, and for good reason. Things in my life have, at points, come to a screeching halt, and at other times they have sped so far out of control, I wanted to yell LETMEOFFLETMEOFFLETMEOFF. This has definitely been a year of upheavals and trials, for sure.. though it has also been a year for good revelations, smiles, laughter, love, dancing, blah blah all that sweet shit.

Where to start? not the beginning this time, Dear Reader. Not this time.

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The captain of your ship of dreams..

Y’know what I’m tired of hearing, seeing people post, reading, whatever, about relationships?
“It’ll work out some day. It HAS to, right?”
Well, I’ve got your answer, darlings.
No.
NO, it does not have to work out some day. This isn’t Disney, you’re not a god damn princess, and the bottom line is NO, it will not work out for everyone.

Let me break it down for you, okay?

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Manifesto with a Death Warrant

As the fifth anniversary of my father’s death quickly approaches (it is less than a month away), many things from the past 5.5 years are popping in to my head with nearly alarming regularity. Not all of them are bad, but they have given me pause for several reasons.. Be they times of great loss or great gain.

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Dear Karma…

Dear Karma – We need to talk.

You know a few years ago, I went through some shit that would be considered pretty damn bad by most Americans’ standards. I say American, because, well, let’s face it: Africa and anywhere oil is located.

Since then, I’ve had bouts of time where things were not going precisely wrong, but they were most definitely not right. I suppose one could say I’ve been on a rocking even keel – overall, of course – for 5.5 years. Which is not to be scoffed at, do not get me wrong. Better to have an even keel than slowly going under. But then again, sometimes keeping that even keel for an extended period of time is a slower sinking process than one could imagine, until one experiences it. Allow me to explain..

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