Back from the dead.

It's been years since I wrote here, which is probably a good thing.  I tend to write when I'm down, so one could surmise that I've been happy.  Which is true, for the most part.  I'm happier now than I can ever remember being, but at the same time, I'm miserable.  I hate Colorado.  It's beautiful here, yes, but in a barren, severe way.  It doesn't provide the forage our animals need, it's hell on the horses' hooves and it causes me to be constantly itchy, flaky and dry.  My sinuses are constantly dry and bloody.  I miss seeing green.  Everything here is in shades of brown and yellow.

Sheri is great.  She loves me, she puts up with my shit, she cares about my well being...but jesus christ, sometimes she's a complete prick.  Today, she told me to "shut up", which is one of my biggest triggers.  Respect me, don't give me fucking orders.

It's been a while,

I haven't really blogged since moving, most of my writing has been in my hard copy journal lately. I enjoy the feedback potential of blogs, but sometimes I need to feel the paper under my hand, the scratch of my pen against it.

I've been in Colorado for nearly 2 months now. Funny, it seems far longer than that. Life here is different, definitely, but not in a bad way. I am in love with this state. It's absolutely gorgeous. Looking out our living room window, you can see the mountains. Looking out the side door, I can see our 9 horses. I don't do much looking through the glass these days, though. Whereas life in Michigan was a constant state of stasis, here I am living. Doing. Feeling. Loving. All that it entails. I have two fillies I'm working on halter breaking. Four basically unhandleable older horses and one very shy gelding I'm working on. Two colts that need halter breaking and socializing. A four month old puppy passed out across my feet to train. An amazing woman to forge a life with.

Gods, I'm happy. I really am. Not saying life is all sunshine and puppies, of course it isn't. But even the bad isn't so bad now. I'm in love, I have a home, I have a family. I have all I need in the world. The bad times fade quickly when I think about that.

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Hit it like you mean it. http://formspring.me/Grrlstar

Say Yes - Andrea Gibson

Say Yes by Andrea Gibson

when two violins are placed in a room
if a chord on one violin is struck
the other violin will sound the note
if this is your definition of hope
this is for you
the ones who know how powerful we are
who know we can sound the music in the people around us
simply by playing our own strings
for the ones who sing life into broken wings
open their chests and offer their breath
as wind on a still day when nothing seems to be moving
spare those intent on proving god is dead
for you when your fingers are red
from clutching your heart
so it will beat faster
for the time you mastered the art of giving yourself for the sake of someone else
for the ones who have felt what it is to crush the lies
and lift truth so high the steeples bow to the sky
this is for you
this is also for the people who wake early to watch flowers bloom
who notice the moon at noon on a day when the world
has slapped them in the face with its lack of light
for the mothers who feed their children first
and thirst for nothing when they’re full

this is for women
and for the men who taught me only women bleed with the moon
but there are men who cry when women bleed
men who bleed from women’s wounds
and this is for that moon
on the nights she seems hung by a noose
for the people who cut her loose
and for the people still waiting for the rope to burn
about to learn they have scissors in their hands

this is for the man who showed me
the hardest thing about having nothing
is having nothing to give
who said the only reason to live is to give ourselves away
so this is for the day we’ll quit or jobs and work for something real
we’ll feel for sunshine in the shadows
look for sunrays in the shade
this is for the people who rattle the cage that slave wage built
and for the ones who didn’t know the filth until tonight
but right now are beginning songs that sound something like
people turning their porch lights on and calling the homeless back home

this is for all the shit we own
and for the day we’ll learn how much we have
when we learn to give that shit away
this is for doubt becoming faith
for falling from grace and climbing back up
for trading our silver platters for something that matters
like the gold that shines from our hands when we hold each other

this is for the grandmother who walked a thousand miles on broken glass
to find that single patch of grass to plant a family tree
where the fruit would grow to laugh
for the ones who know the math of war
has always been subtraction
so they live like an action of addition
for you when you give like every star is wishing on you
and for the people still wishing on stars
this is for you too

this is for the times you went through hell so someone else wouldn’t have to
for the time you taught a 14 year old girl she was powerful
this is for the time you taught a 14 year old boy he was beautiful
for the radical anarchist asking a republican to dance
cause what’s the chance of everyone moving from right to left
if the only moves they see are NBC and CBS
this is for the no becoming yes
for scars becoming breath
for saying i love you to people who will never say it to us
for scraping away the rust and remembering how to shine
for the dime you gave away when you didn’t have a penny
for the many beautiful things we do
for every song we’ve ever sung
for refusing to believe in miracles
because miracles are the impossible coming true
and everything is possible

this is for the possibility that guides us
and for the possibilities still waiting to sing
and spread their wings inside us
cause tonight saturn is on his knees
proposing with all of his ten thousand rings
that whatever song we’ve been singing we sing even more
the world needs us right now more than it ever has before
pull all your strings
play every chord
if you’re writing letters to the prisoners
start tearing down the bars
if you’re handing our flashlights in the dark
start handing our stars
never go a second hushing the percussion of your heart
play loud
play like you know the clouds have left too many people cold and broken
and you’re their last chance for sun
play like there’s no time for hoping brighter days will come
play like the apocalypse is only 4…3…2
but you have a drum in your chest that could save us
you have a song like a breath that could raise us
like the sunrise into a dark sky that cries to be blue
play like you know we won’t survive if you don’t
but we will if you do
play like saturn is on his knees
proposing with all of his ten thousand rings
that we give every single breath
this is for saying–yes

this is for saying–yes

* * *

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Hit it like you mean it. http://formspring.me/Grrlstar

why

Is it that people will tell you that they're there for you, but the second that your reaction is not the one they anticipated, they revoke their former offer. Or that they tell you you can talk to them about anything, but when you finally open up to them, they run like hell because "anything" doesn't cover the dark ugliness that are the things you actually need to talk about? People are willing to help until things move past a simple case of the blues. I'm done with reaching out. I'm done with falling on my face when people decide I'm too much. It's easier to just keep the shit inside and pretend.

If you can't handle me at my worst...

you must be everybody that's ever been in my life. I'm there for my friends whenever they need me, however they need me, no questions. When things get thick with me, they all run. It's a good thing I already know nobody really gives a fuck when it comes down to it, because otherwise this might hurt.

You.

You hurt me. Every fucking day. All I want is a relationship with you, and all you want is to avoid me unless there's something in it for you. You're such a manipulative child, it disgusts me. In a house where everyone is hell bent on bringing me to my knees, it would be so nice to have you at my back. Instead you talk about me behind my back. You use me. You treat me like shit. You fly off the handle if I so much as disagree with you. I want to hate you. I want to hate everyone who makes me feel less than I am, but I cannot bring myself to hate my own blood, regardless of how much pain they've caused me. I guess I'll give up and commit myself back to a life of solitude until ti's time for me to leave. Perhaps we can fit a lifetime's worth of relationship into those 18 hours it will take for you to drop me off.

formspring.me

Hit it like you mean it. http://formspring.me/Grrlstar

formspring.me

Hit it like you mean it. http://formspring.me/Grrlstar

formspring.me

Hit it like you mean it. http://formspring.me/Grrlstar

Brewing.

There is an insane amount of anger and frustration brewing inside me. I feel entirely weak and powerless in my life, and as someone who has had the power taken away from them more than once over the course of their life, it does not have a good reaction in me. It makes me bitter, it makes me reach for situations which I CAN control, and it makes me an absolutely horrible person to be around.

I had someone (in my family) who I could go to. Someone who had my back. The only one who I felt came close to understood me, and whom I felt supported me. Saw the way things were here. I spoke to her xmas night, and that illusion was shattered. I knew it was only a matter of time until her ear was turned and I'd lose her, but I had hoped it wouldn't happen until I was closer to leaving. Oh, well. I don't need anyone to believe me, I suppose. It doesn't matter that everyone here thinks I'm a liar and a thief and an all around horrible person. None of it matters in the grand scheme of things, I guess. I know I'm not those things. That's what matters, right?

She spoke to me of getting out of this house, of moving away and letting the relationships here heal. She didn't give me a chance to interject, or maybe I just knew it was pointless to do so, but that is something that I doubt will ever happen. There is too much damage done here. There are no words or actions that will convince me that the woman has anything other than animosity and hatred for me at this point. I regret this, I wish it could be different, but my heart can only take so many cuts before the scar tissue heals over and makes it closed off. She loved me in the past, I know this, but she hasn't for a while now. No one can treat someone they honestly and truly love the way that woman treats me.

thoughts...

There's a gun across the hallway. Two, really, but the pistol would be much easier to use. It'd be so fucking easy to grab it, check the chamber, put it to my head - to the temple, too much leeway if you go under the chin or in the mouth - and pull the trigger. It's a 40 caliber, the bullets are damn near the size of my thumb. There's no coming back from that. Big, dime size hole on one side, gaping maw of bone fragment, blood, gray matter and tissue on the other. Or, rather, splattered on the wall on the other side. And for me? Oblivion. Respite from the constant depression, the constant being made to feel less than I am. (or am I, really? I don't know anymore)No more struggling for approval that will never come, no more wishing to feel a part of the family and being disappointed a bit more each time it's proven to me that I'm not. No more fighting. No more confrontation and animosity. Just oblivion.

internalize

internalize
compartmentalize
try silence on for size
ignore their words
and what they do
take it all inside of you
tuck it away
none of it matters, anyway
don't say a word
not one complaint
no one wants to hear your taint
just pull it all within
breathe it out again
you'll be stronger, in the end
don't dare cry
or show your pain
lock it away inside your brain

I'm breaking apart on the inside. My face isn't my own, it's being changed from the fire thats consuming me. I look bone weary. I AM bone weary. The bad outweighs the good right now, and I have no method of expelling the toxicity of the bad as it builds up inside me. My self confidence diminishes more and more every day. My will to keep on diminishes more and more every day. It feels like every time I reach out, I'm beaten back. Every time I start to climb free, someone steps on my fingers. I'm precious close to giving up, and all I want is someone to save me.

Musings.

I think that people who put expectations on sex are kind of ridiculous. sex is like art. everyone performs differently, and the end product is their own. some people will look at it, enjoy it topically and move on. others will stop and really FEEL it. Still others will hate it, and some will have their minds absolutely blown.

Just something I said in conversation today and thought I'd share.

I said I wasn't going to do this here...

...but where else do I have to go, really? Not my friends, I can't seem to bring myself to let go and actually lay it out to any of them. Not to mention that none of them would really understand, even if I did lay it out. I'm un-medicated, I'm on a bi-polar down-slide, I have seasonal depression, excessive anxiety and there are about five other smaller stressors at work all at once. This isn't a matter of talking to a friend, having them say "well, look at the bright side", say something to cheer me up and it's all better. I need to talk to someone who will listen without judging and understand that sometimes you need to allow your depression to run its course. And since that's not gonna happen, here goes.

I am excessively unhappy here. I have been for quite a while, but it just gets worse as time goes on. Most days my grandmother is cold and aloof, some days she's mean and insulting and others she's outright vicious to me. My brother is demanding, thankless, treats me as if I'm a maid/servant and enjoys berating me when things don't go his way. My grandfather basically ignores me, unless it's to snort incredulously at something I say and roll his eyes. My father and sisters are distant people who I relate to as I relate to casual acquaintances. My mother has her own life with no time (or patience) for my shit, and the same goes for most of that side of the family, too. My aunt B has her own troubles and is quite sick of hearing me whine, I'm sure. My best friend has her family and her own problems, and I would not seek to burden her with my shit, even if I thought she would understand what I'm going through. Basically, if you're not living it, you just won't get it.

In October I had actually decided that I couldn't take anymore, and had planned on ending things. I had plans to go see AFP with Nikki, and my intent was to do it after that. Seeing the concert was the one thing I really had to look forward to, and once I'd had that experience, I was ok with it being done. A couple things happened in the meantime, though. I met someone who started the stirrings of feelings inside my long dormant chest, and then I went on vacation. I spent time away from here, and I realized that I CAN actually still feel things other than sadness and pain. I was actually happy, and enjoying myself when I was away. I was with people who didn't treat me like shit, who actually spoke to me, had conversations. Included me. Made me feel at home. Then I came back home. More of the same. Then the holidays. So now...I'm back at square one. I'm perfectly ok with the idea of not being here. Sure, the future might hold change, but who's to say if that's a definite thing or just a possibility? I can't spend an indefinite amount of time feeling this way again. My shoulders are tired from hefting the original load, I don't think that they can handle more shit being shoveled on them every day until gods know when. It's kind of harder now, too, having tasted happiness and then coming back to this.

And so, I sit back at square one. I have a lot of things to decide, a lot of thoughts and emotions to process. And frankly, I'm tired. A large part of me is telling me to withdraw from people entirely and avoid bothering them with my shit. So, if you don't hear from me...the few of you who will read this...you know why. I'm doing it to save you from dealing with my shit.

meep.

Everything is so large and overwhelming and I feel so very tiny. All these letters addressed to me full of legal jargon, and health plans that seem to cover absolutely nothing...I'm a smart person, but it's all so fucking confusing. Perhaps if I hadn't ruined most of my brain with chemicals when I was younger this would be easier now. Perhaps if I didn't have a slew of disorders, I'd be able to look at it from an angle that doesn't leave me hyperventilating. Perhaps I should just admit defeat and ask for help in understanding what's going on with the situation.

another snippet.

To sing with another person is a very personal thing. Almost sexual, really, in it's intimacy. You're allowing your voice to join with another, to wrap around the other person's. To work in tandem with theirs, combining together to create something far more beautiful than one single voice. It can be physically shocking, to be singing and reach that moment of harmony where your voice and the other person's combine in that perfect note, that perfect moment.

snippet

I close my eyes, tilt my head back and feel the impurities of the day slide off my skin like I've just emerged from water. Indeed, as if I've just been baptized. That is what the music does for me, really. It baptizes me, lays to waste all the sins of the past and gives me a clean slate. It reaches into the very deepest recess of my soul and gently washes it clean.

I just don't get it.

She wants me. Me, the one who has a grossly overweight body. Me, with so many issues I can't be a productive member of society. Me the one everyone overlooks and ignores, or ridicules. Me, the broken, scarred one that has nothing of value to offer...she wants me. I don't pretend to understand. I don't get it at all, especially when she's beautiful and has a nice body, and has her shit together. She could have someone so much better...but she wants me.

On creative endeavours.

I am a creative person. I have abilities in many different artistic venues. Do I use these abilities to my advantage? No. Instead I let my insecurities and anxieties and godawful self conscious ways get in the way of expressing myself. If I could just lose these roadblocks and let my art leak out unfettered, I KNOW I could be good at whichever way I chose to do so. So how does one go about doing this, letting go of one's inhibitions and letting their art pour out where it had once been dammed?

Thank you, Mistress, may I have another?

So, normally I have nightmares. Very realistic, bloody, heart wrenching nightmares that wake me up sobbing. Not so last night. I had a dream which was ultimately more disturbing than any nightmare. You see, I'm reading The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty by Anne Rice writing as A.N. Roquelaure, and I made the mistake of reading it right before bed. So, I dreamt of the book. I'll not go into the details of the dream, except to say that I was a slave in the BDSM sense. I woke up flinching away from a dream paddle and I swear to the gods, if anyone woulda tried to smack me today I would've probably gone psycho bitch on them. Definitely answered for me if I'd ever be into that kind of sacrifice of control. HUGE no. I'll stick with my much tamer proclivities, thank you very much. (I was going to say much more vanilla, but I realized that sexual asphyxiation is decidedly NOT vanilla...)I may like giving up some control once in a while, but no way in HELL would I ever turn myself over to another person's whims entirely. That said, I'm going to go to bed and HOPE to have nice, restful, vanilla dreams.

Off the grid?

I feel the down slide pulling at me, and while all I want is to reach out to my friends and cling to you like a life vest, that's not fair to any of you. There's just way too much for me to burden anyone else with it, and it's too far down into my well of blackness. For every hour of happiness I have, my brain has to take it's pound of flesh, and I was extremely happy on my vacation. So, I guess now comes time to pay penance for that good time.

Holidays.

I hate them. Holidays in my family are never easy. Especially for me, the family outsider. I always get the task of rounding the troops, only to be left to hover on the fringes of the group once everyone's together. I just don't fit in. And I get seasonal depression. So, not fun. This year looks like it will be no exception. I've been fighting to get information/things in order since...oh, I don't know...friday? And all my efforts have resulted in is a mother who doesn't really want to go, a brother who doesn't seem to much want to go either...Hell, /I/ don't even really want to go. If it weren't for my Grandma Anglin and the fact that I rarely get to see her, I probably wouldn't. I worry about her, though. She worries herself sick over her family and she likes having us all in one place together so she can check up on everyone. I'm moving away soon, I guess I should suck it up and try and enjoy myself since family get togethers will be few and far in between once I'm gone.

This town kills me. Living in this house sucks the soul out of me. I can't wait to be gone. I didn't realize exactly how much weight just being here puts on my shoulders until I spent some time away. *sigh*

Giving thanks.

It is 3:45am, and I've been home for about 45 minutes. I had a mini vacation to KY, and then TN. All told, Sunday, Monday and Tuesday I was in some sort of vehicle for approximately 28 hours. I am body weary and my anxiety levels are through the roof, but underneath the surface static there is a sense of peace and happiness that wasn't there prior to last Thursday. Being in a place with people I was comfortable being myself around, and who made me feel wanted, and not like I was a burden or an unwanted observer standing at the edge of the room, healed some of the injury my soul's taken on in the past few years. It wasn't even so much the things we did while I was there, (though going to my first Amanda Palmer concert with Nikki and Penny was one of my top 10 best experiences EVER)it was just that Austin and Nikki made me feel completely at home. It's very hard for me to connect with people nowadays, and that I felt entirely comfortable with them so quickly had me kind of in awe. Especially since, in reality, I've only known them for a handful of months online. Though, the duration of a relationship, friendship or romantic holds far less importance to me than the depth of said relationship.

Friends. I am thankful for my friends, both online and in person, old and new. Without the select few I've let into my life, I would be a shell of a person. My friends are what keeps my head above water. So, to you few, thank you from the very depths of my heart.

The concert was transcendent. I spent the hours leading up to it in a state of near anxiety attack, and had to take double the ativan I normally take, but it was worth it to be there and see Amanda Palmer work her magic. She opened by coming in the doors at the rear of the theater, marching band style and proceeded to rock the fuck out for the next...hour? Two? I don't even know. I was in a complete daze, as always happens to me when I'm seeing a band/performer that is important to me live. I couldn't tell you the setlist, I only remember a handful of what she played, but I can tell you that I was moved between joy and laughter and excitement to painful tears in the course of the set. The venue was amazing, a beautiful old theater with velveteen seats and carved cherubs above the balconies...not my favorite kind of venue, I prefer standing room only to seated concerts, but it definitely suited the show. I met Beth Hommel, Amanda's assistant, whose blogs I've been reading for a while, and I found her to be awesome. I "met" Amanda briefly when she signed autographs after the show, I saw Bitch from the now defunct Bitch and Animal (who I LOVED back in the day)when she joined Amanda onstage for her cover of "That's not my name" by the Ting Tings, and also saw her at the merch table later. Penny met some of the guys from The Nervous Cabaret, who opened for/backed Amanda's set, and who were also awesome.

Music. I am thankful for music. It fuels me, feeds me. It calms me when I am at my breaking point and it fires me up when I'm lacking fuel to go on. It inspires me to create. It touches me in places nothing else can reach. Without it in my life I would probably go completely insane.

"Quod me nutrit, me destruit" would probably be the best way to describe my family in the general sense. For the most part, they don't understand me and don't care to even try. They love me, but they do so while holding me at arms length and without even really knowing who I am. Mostly a generic sort of love. There are a few exceptions, however, ranging from good to bad. My Aunt B. She's at the top of the good end of the scale. She's amazing, basically the only family member I know has my back without fail. She believes in me, she tries her hardest to understand me, and she goes to bat for me with other family members who prefer to treat me like less than a human. Which brings me to the other end of the totem pole. The ones who look at me with disdain, unfounded mistrust, who don't care to try and understand me, or even carry on a conversation with me. Who view me as a burden no matter what help I give. Who treat me worse than most people would treat their worst enemy.

Family. I'm thankful for them, good, neutral or bad. The good serve to lift me up, and the bad...well, I guess they have their purpose too. Without the bad, I wouldn't know how much pain I can take on without breaking down. Good or bad, they've made me who I am today.

Dubbayew tee eff, mate?

I don't know what the issue is, but I have spent the past two days in a near state of tears. Anything has the potential to set me off. I'm not PMSing, that's over with. I won my trial, I'm happily getting to know an amazing woman better, I have a future in sight. I'm less than a week away from a vacation in which I get to hang with a friend AND go see my favorite performer for the first time. Things are good right now. And yet, I keep nearly busting into tears. o.O

And also...

Some more poetry Warning: May cause Rai death, but possibly not.

This woman's words amaze me. I wish to hell that I had an iota of the talent she carries with her.

Anything - Andrea Gibson

Just a really good poem. Especially love the bolded lines.


tonight i wanna slit my wrists
hold the blood to god's lips and say taste this
tonight i could swear even the man in the moon
is a rapist
and stars are nothing but scars
bullet wounds from humanities drive
by firing at the face of the sky
tonight crying would be too easy
it would please me too much
and no i don't want you to touch me
cause your hands are clean
and i'm filthy
guilty with the blood of something beautiful
all over me
i've been weak and leaking so much poison
in all the rivers around me
the fish are dying
and the trees are vying for some light
but i'm the eternal night
writing rhymes about wind chimes and world peace
while even in my sleep
i'm fighting wars that grind the enamel off my teeth
and i wake with my jaw clenched and my body bent
thinking how many dishes have i broken this week?
in an attempt to not break myself
by taking brutal belt to my hide
cause it's hard to wanna survive
when i know if ghandi were alive
... he'd shoot me
and all the great therapists of this world might say
girl maybe your anger is good
maybe your rage
is you emerging from the cage of everything you've been
so i try to be zen singing mantras of
om mani padme hum
but god fears me too much to hear me
and my heart beats another kid in the candy store
and his mother calls the cops
and every time the clock tics
i start tic tic tic talking more shit
my voice sounding the crucifixion of everything holy
i've got blisters on my tongue
from pounding nails into hearts of prophets
and just when i think i can stop it
satan resurrects inside me
and everything around me turns to hell
last night i stole pennies from a wishing well
to buy rope
to lynch the last inch of hope from the planet from the planet
and all
because you have a new girlfriend and i can't stand it
and i know it doesn't make sense
i know we decided to be just friends
but i didn't think we'd be just friends forever
i mean...
i wanted to be eighty together
wanted to birth poems like babies together
and watch them grow up save the world
cause girl
you're the only one who could ever raise the sun inside me
and i swear the ground beneath my feet
is only soft because you walk beside
there were times i thought i was so lost
even god would never find me
and then you came up right behind me
and kissed a cross onto my back
and its things like that that got me going crazy
cause i was thinking maybe the breaths we'd take together
would make us live forever
and now you're killing me
look at me i'm dying
not even trying to evolve when
i wanted to be there forty years from now
when the doctor called to say
your mother might not make it another day
and i wasn't gonna be just ok
i was gonna be perfect
was gonna make my love feel
like the first time you rode your bike without training wheels
kneel before you every day
like there was no one else before you
cause i've heard your heart beat
like that breeze that could bring any violence to its knees
and the best lines i've ever written
i plagiarized every word from the thoughts of yours
i heard while you were just sittin in silence
staring up at mars
but you never wish on shooting stars
you wish on the ones
that have the courage to shine where they are
no matter how dark the night
no matter how hard the fight
and how now do i turn away from that light
when i wanted to be eighty with you
birth babies like poems with you
and let them write themselves
wanted to hold your heart to my ear like a sea-shell
til i could hear the tides of every tear you've ever cried
then build islands in the seas of your eyes
so you'd see there's land to swim to
hold your hand and say storms are born
from the same sky we write hymns to when the sun shines
sometimes it takes tempests to wake rainbows
that will wind our pain into halos
was gonna carve your name into my wrist
so my pulse could kiss you
was gonna love you so well
i'd wake every morning
and tell you things like this...
bliss is the moments you're with me
when your gone my life hurts like hell
but i'll do anything to make you happy
even if it means setting you free
to be with someone else

I try. *shrug*

I haven't blogged much lately. Not because I haven't had anything to say, but because I had decided to try and refrain from posting depressing, whiny blogs. Nobody wants to read that shit, and I want my writing to have a bit more substance than that. That said, this is probably going to be a non-substantial, whiny blog. You've been warned.

My grandparents have been back just shy of a week. They were gone to FL, visiting my aunt. Those two weeks were stressful for me, because most of the upkeep of the house and animals fell on my head due to my brother's...shall we say...lack of interest. However, despite that stress, there was a pressure that wasn't there. Breathing was easier, I didn't feel as if I had to tiptoe through a garden of eggshells every minute of every day. My aunt assured me she was speaking to my grandmother on my behalf, trying to make her understand that I'm not the horrible creature she feels I am. I had hope, those two weeks, that things might get better. That hope lasted perhaps six hours upon their return. She told my aunt that she treats me this way because she "doesn't understand me, with whatever it is that's wrong" with me. -For those of you who don't know me, "whatever it is that's wrong with me" is (unmedicated, thanks to medicaid being cut) bipolar disorder, severe anxiety disorders and depression, per my doctors- I thought that maybe my aunt might have helped her to understand. In the week since her return, it is made increasingly apparent that not only does she not understand, she simply doesn't give a fuck. Now, some of you may wonder why a 27 year old grown adult is submitting herself to this? Why not just leave, find my own place, live my own life? If it were that simple I would've been gone long ago. Unfortunately, I've been out of work for the past three years, had two surgeries and have been fighting through the process of a disability appeal. I have no car, no money and the food stamps that I grudgingly collect are not going to put a roof over my head. My anxiety makes the prospect of getting a job nearly incomprehensible, if I even had a way to get to and from a job, were I able to get one. I honestly have no option at this point, other than being where I am and trying to keep my head above water.

All I want, really, is for her to try and understand that I'm not a monster. I want to be able to have a conversation with my grandma without her thinking that my every word is rife with ill intent and malice. I want her to talk to me like she does my brother. Like she cares what's going on in my life. Like she didn't wish the earth would swallow me up and take me out of her life. Or, I want to be able to accept the fact that this will never happen and allow myself to be ok with that. Neither option seems likely, and it rips me up inside to admit that. It makes me feel so dead inside, to know that the woman who basically raised me thinks so badly of me. It's gotten to the point where I find myself unable to look up anymore. I have rational thoughts of removing myself from the equation. Clear headed, thought out with intellect, rational thoughts of ending the constant physical and emotional pain. Even on good days, days where things are looking up and I feel "happy", my mind still strays to this. Even when my friends are around me, even when I've got things to look forward to, even when I've met someone who makes my heart beat a bit faster and gives me a smile, my mind still strays to this. Even when there's good around me, cocooning me, it doesn't push away the deadness at my center. I think, subconsciously, I've given up. I don't know how to bounce back from this place anymore, or if it's even a possibility at this point. Isn't there a time in every situation where you accept defeat and cut your losses?

This is not to say that I actively want to die. I want, more than anything, to have life prove me wrong, and for this dead and desolate landscape inside me and heal, bloom again. I want to see where things go with this new person who has so captivated me for the past 20 days. I want to see how the future unfolds. Much in the same way a plant, being slowly poisoned with bleach, still yearns for the sunlight and reaches for water.

To those who have expressed concern.

JUST A FRIENDLY REMINDER TO THOSE WHO ARE CONCERNED. The things you read on facebook and here are me venting. Me writing out the things I feel in order to get them out of my head in a manner which is non confrontational. Some people use a hand written journal to express their feelings and emotions, I use my blog. Please do not assume that because I write "I want to slice my arm until blood runs" it means that I am going to DO IT, anymore than me writing that "I feel like my head is going to explode" in regards to a migraine headache means it is, in fact, going to explode. It means that the thought is in my head and I am writing it down to do so as to REMOVE it from my head and give it a release. I appreciate the fact that some of my writing is sensational and over the top, and this may cause concern in some of you, but rest assured, I am a non violent person in action if not in thought and to be quite honest would rather see myself in pain than someone I love and care about, even when those I love and care about are the source of my pain. If you read something in my blog or my facebook statuses that concerns you, PLEASE do the adult thing and bring it up to me in a message or comment, as I am a grown adult and fully willing to discuss/explain my thought process with anything I've written and posted for the public eye.

It is I, back from the great beyond.

I haven't blogged in some time. Which is not to say I haven't had blogs in my head, but I've been too damn exhausted this past week to be bothered with typing them out. I've been up at 5:45 every day since Monday to go watch Chance (my best friend's new baby. He's almost two months old and adorable, and, luckily for me, a very good baby)while she and her husband work.


**Hours later**

Yeah, anyway. That about sums up what I've been up to/will be up to this coming week. Perhaps I'll write more soon, perhaps not. Until then...

vent.

I can't fucking take this shit. Things JUST start being decent between my grandmother and I and Jon comes back and she goes directly back to treating me like I'm a worthless piece of shit, then they wonder why I'm so fucking jealous of him. I tried being honest with her and telling her how hard it is for me to keep positive, or even to keep myself from thinking about dying and she rolls her fucking eyes at me and says "here we go again." I could barely handle this crap when I had my meds to help me, and now I don't even have that little bit to help. Nobody in this family fucking gives two shits that I fucking struggle to make it through every single goddamn day, they think I'm just being over dramatic and making things up. I've been wondering if maybe committing myself would help lately. That's how goddamn bad it's gotten, I'm considering having myself locked away until I can fucking learn to deal with myself, and they fucking blow it off.

Thoughts.

These are my thoughts exactly as they come to me from 9:32-9:35am.



Some days I feel like I'm at a carnival blindfolded, never
knowing what ride I'm getting on next.

I've not slept since 11:30am yesterday.

I am excessively horny, and excessively depressed that I've not had sex in about three years. Four years since I've had GOOD sex.

I need to go take a shower.

I kind of want to play my guitar, but my brother's sleeping in the next room.

I need to go take a cold shower.

What if there is life beyond our planet and those lifeforms write stories and movies and such about their fear that one day WE will come take possession of their planet and do medical tests on them?

It's sad that due to human nature we WOULD dissect and study them, because we humans tend to destroy that which we don't understand, that which we fear...and we do it in the name of learning, in the name of science, as if that justifies it.

I want a kitten.

I should really go get in the shower.

Alix Olson has some great lesbian-centric poetry.

I feel kind of dizzy, but not like..my whole head? Just at the back of my head.

I hope I can sleep tonight.

I want scrambled eggs.

Fuck the eggs, I want sex.

Chair dancing is fun, but I really hope no one ever walks in and catches me doing it, because I'm sure I look a fool.

I need a girlfriend. Or just a friend. Someone to cuddle with...

I don't really know if I even know how to relate to another person in the way it'd take to be in a relationship anymore.

Need. Shower. I. Go. To. There.

Dear Little Brother

Dear Little Brother,

I love you very much, and I'm glad that you're no longer in Louisiana with no money or food to eat. However, I really hope that you do not intend to live here. You put an enormous strain on everyone in this house when you are here. You take and take and take, and never think to contribute anything. You worry our Grandmother to the point she gets physical symptoms. You make our Grandfather's already high blood pressure worse. You are a trigger for my anxiety and bipolar disorders, and you send me into a state that makes me contemplate a world without me in it. You bring drugs into the house, and the tray of seed starters you brought back from Louisiana with you? It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what you're growing in them. You borrow our Grandfather's truck, his only means of getting the wood he uses to heat the house, and drive it while hopped up on pills. You traipse in and out of the house at all hours of the night, interrupting everyone's sleep. I could continue on, but I won't.

I love you so much, Little Brother, that I can't even tell you, but until you grow the fuck up and drop the self centered, greedy druggie routine, you will forever be a toxin to those who love you. I know that coming from me this all seems pretty hypocritical, but I changed. I realized how much I was fucking up those who love me. I made myself into a better person so that their love wasn't in vain. I can only hope that one day you can see that you're worth so much more than you're allowing yourself to be, and make the same changes. I don't want to lose you, but if you continue the route you're on now, I fear I will.

Love Always,
Aimee

Sometimes it's best to cut your losses.

I feel more and more like I don't belong here. By here I mean on earth, in society, a part of the human race. I don't think this means I've given up, I just think it means I've finally accepted the truth. I've been fighting tooth and nail for years and to what end? A sliver of happiness here and there? A sliver of happiness that's only taken away from me when I'm least expecting it? When I've just gotten used to standing on my feet the rug gets pulled from under me? I can't keep going on this way. Is it so wrong to just accept that you'll never win, you're always going to be an outsider and cut your losses? I don't think it's wrong. Especially in comparison to constant pain, mental anguish and anxiety. If an animal is living in constant pain we put it out of it's misery. Humane euthanasia. Why can't society just accept that sometimes humans are living in too much pain to go on and take the taboo away from ending it.

here we go again.

Depression. Seclusion. Suicidal thoughts that I can't control. Anxiety. Urges to self harm.

Collected Poetry II: The lost archives

As the title implies, these are my poems from the mid to late 90's that I thought were lost. I happened to find a box of floppy discs when condensing my things yesterday and lo and behold, there they were, on a nondescript disc. After many overjoyed squees and a bit of editing (apparently I wasn't such a stickler for grammar and spelling back then), I present them to you. Welcome to the mind of an undiagnosed Bi-polar teenage cutter. -_-

Blind Love

Touching, holding, caressing

These things are clear in my mind

Loving, kissing, romancing

If you can’t see this, you must be blind

Drifting, roaming, wishing

But still you hurt me, causing my heart to break

Swearing, yelling, crying

But, no, I know this wasn’t a mistake

Missing, wanting, yearning

After all you’ve done

I still love you blindly

Aimee Bell 1997

***

Chosen

Friends are the family

chosen by the heart

tied with bonds so tight

they'll never come apart

few are ever chosen

to come into my life

many are the ones

who have only twisted the knife

but you, my sweet friend

have showed me you're sincere

you're of my chosen family now

and in my heart you're always near

so, if you ever need me

just look deep inside your heart

I'll always be there with you

and there we'll never be apart

Aimee Bell 3-22-98

***

Does the moon

does the moon know

what my heart feels

does it hear my silent cries

screamed wordlessly in the night

do the stars hear my hopes and dreams

die of neglect and misuse

or does the dark absorb it all

diffuse it into the air

and then give way to light and day

forgotten by all but one

Aimee Bell 3-21-98

***

In your eyes

Those three words

come so easy to me

But to you there unspeakable

Sometimes I think you just don't care

But your actions make me see

The way you look into my eyes

Your fingers in my hair

It comes as no shock to me

That when i gaze into your eyes

I see those three words there

Aimee Bell 1997

***

Invade

An intrusion

of the soul -

body -

mind -

feelings never felt

never wanna feel again

close the

doors -

my heart

is

cold

my body

barren

invaded

Aimee Bell 3-21-98

***

Misunderstood

Pain runs - deep - rooted fears

scalding tears fall - unheard -

fists balled tight turn inward -

pain turns to anger turns to hate -

hate turns to depression -

depression lingers -

pain hurts - good - blood will run -

calm comes unseen - unheard - undetected -

calm brings blackness -

with blackness comes understanding -

understood to late

Aimee Bell 3-21-98

***

Scarred

You threw me down

Onto the shag carpet

You forced yourself on me

And told me I’d like it

You ripped me wide open

With your probing body

And hit my face

Each time I cried out in pain

And after you reached your climax

You spat on my face

And left me lying there, bleeding

With a lifetime of scars

that will never heal

Aimee Bell

1994

***

In Between

Love is non-existent

Hate lives in its place

And where the beautiful thoughts once lived

Is now only empty space

Rage kills happiness

Pain kills dreams

And here I am

Stuck somewhere in between

Aimee Bell 1999

***

Untitled 3

Eyes wide closed

falling to deep

to fast

to far

feelings fly by

twisted

entertwined

confused

Eyes open tight

truth

just beyond reach

hides tauntingly

quietly slips by

is it a feeling

never yet felt

or a phantom

from the past

back

to haunt again

Aimee Bell 3-21-98

***

Untitled 2

Your eyes

Deep as the ocean

Tell the truth

Words unspoken

Lie

Just below the surface

Will you

Ever

Speak these words

to me?

Aimee Bell 3-22-98

***

Wander

Wandering lost afraid

Alone

Through this nightmare

Called life

Days passing by

Sand through the fingers

Slipping away

Monotonus repetition

It’s all the same

Drugs ease the pain

Make it all better

Until it’s not

Other means of making it

All go away

Come to mind

But thoughts are fleeting

Friends are there

And then

They’re not

You can’t rely on anything

Even yourself

Aimee Bell 10-11-99