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

Blargh.

It's been a couple days and I've got topics I'd like to blog about, but I'm so damn beat right now that I can barely be bothered to type a couple lines. So..this is to commit myself to blogging tomorrow. HEAR THAT, AIMEE??? TOMORROW!

Quarrantine the infected to save the world.

Checklist.
PMS? No.
Pissed off by someone? No.
Tragic happening? No.
Something go wrong? No.
Someone hurt me? No.
Feel ill? No.
Migraine? No.
Frustrated with anyone? No.

No reason for this. None at all. Second day in a row I've been irrationally depressed/anxious/irritable/hair trigger temper and tears/suicidal thought-y. This is quite possibly the worst part of my affliction. The no reason part. I can handle having all that stuff if there's a cause. When it just happens it's so much harder to accept and deal with. I guess I'll spend another day in seclusion from the world to avoid infecting anyone else with the poison that is me when I'm like this. If anyone for some reason has a need to contact me (ha, doubtful), they can do so by emailing me.

This too shall pass.
Perhaps tomorrow will be a better day.

Holy Fuck.

Holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck holy fucking fuck.

That's all I can really think right now. That song...just the vocals have always cleaved me in two. Seeing it as Amanda performed it, her expression, the way she holds herself, jesus fucking christ. The performance literally made me light headed and dizzy, and that's just from watching it on youtube. I can't even imagine what my reaction would've been seeing it live.

As someone who has been through the subject of the song, I know that that kind of handling of it can really only be brought about by someone who is either an absolutely fucking phenomenal actress or someone who has been there. I won't presume to say which category she falls into, but jesus fucking christ, wow.

I shared the video with a friend, another avid Amanda Palmer fan, and thoughts were provoked at her response. "That's a really messed up song." It kinda threw me for a minute. Yeah, I guess it is kind of a messed up song if you're looking at it for entertainment value only, as someone who has never had to experience rape would. To me the song has always been an expression of the artist's (Tori Amos) releasing of demons. Describing what happened, what you felt, physically. Describing the fucked up thoughts that your mind gives you in an attempt to distance itself from the horror that is happening to your body. And proving to yourself (and to your audience) that you made it through it. I don't know, maybe I'm completely wrong at Tori's reasoning for writing the song, but that's what my poetry and other writing about my rape/sexual abuse were driven by. And by that thought process, I don't think the song's messed up at all. I'm glad, though, that she thought it was messed up. I'm glad she didn't have reason to relate to it. I wish no woman could relate to it, and I wish that there had never been reason for the song to be written in the first place, or for it to have been covered with such shattered-glass-sharp emotion that it evoked a physical response in me. In a perfect world no person would know the correct words to write a song about the theft of a soul, no one would know the appropriate facial expression, body stance, projected emotion to paint the correct visual.

But the world will never be perfect.

If He Tries Anything

"if he tries anything" by Ani DiFranco

i'm invincible
so are you
we do all the things
they say we can't do
we walk around
in the middle of the night
and if it's too far to walk
we just hitch a ride

we got rings of dirt
around our necks
we talk like auctioneers
and we bounce like checks
we smell like shit
still, when we walk down the street
all the boys line up
to throw themselves at our feet

i say i think he likes you
you say i think he do too
go and get him girl
before he gets you
i'll be watching you
from the wings
i will come to your rescue
if he tries anything

it's a long long road
it's a big big world
we are wise wise women
we are giggling girls
we both carry a smile
to show when we're pleased
we both carry a switchblade
in our sleeves

tell you one thing
i'm gonna make noise when i go down
for ten square blocks
they're gonna know i died
all the goddesses will come up
to the ripped screen door
and say,
what do you want, dear?
and i'll say,
i want inside

i say i think he likes you
you say i think he do too
go and get him girl
before he gets you
i'll be watching you
from the wings
i will come to your rescue
if he tries anything

Why? Because I love these fucking lyrics. Everybody needs a friend to have their back. Or, you know, occasionally their front. What? Just sayin'. It happens. DON'T FUCKING JUDGE ME!

Aaaanyway. Point of this blog is friendship. Women are too quick to be harsh to their female friends. Downright vicious at times. It makes no sense to me. As women we should stick up for one another, protect one another...women get enough shit from society at large without attacking one another, claws extended.
My friends, the ones around me now as opposed to those I removed from my life, are good women. They don't hate behind my back, and I don't hate behind theirs. And that's how it should be, goddamnit.

Ativan Thoughts

My mind is very soft and cloud shaped at the moment, and as such, is floating around on the breezes. Forgive me if none of this makes sense.

I found out recently when my disability hearing is set for, finally. It will have been nearly three years of waiting. Now, I am left with a small feeling of relief served next to a huge helping of "oh my fucking god, what's going to happen to me if..." I'm so scared of the future. I'm afraid I'm going to be denied and left to find a job, and I'm scared that, if that is the outcome, when I do find a job my anxiety disorders and BPD will make it nearly impossible for me to actually be there and do the job. My "issues" have gotten so much worse since the last time I held a job, and it was hard even then.

**time jump to next day**

Which brings me to another point. Rai and I were discussing this last night (or whatever you call the mess my ativan-addled mind spewed out). I recently had a conversation with my Aunt, in which I tried to explain to her WHY I'm persuing the disability thing. Contrary to what most think, the basis of my disability appeal isn't solely my neck problems, (though they are a part of it) I also have Bipolar Disorder and a few different breeds of anxiety issues that are lumped together in what my therapist just called "multiple anxiety disorders". And yes, a lot of people have anxiety disorders and are functional in society. Theirs are mild. To give you an example of mine, I was recently at a family gathering. Surrounded by people I love and who love me. I should've been comfortable there. Instead I was a wreck. My brain didn't want to focus, my heart was thundering, it felt like there was an elephant on my chest, I was nauseated, I was shaky to the point I had to make an excuse not to hold my best friend's newborn because I didn't trust myself to hold him in the state I was in. I was sweating profulsely. When I spoke, I messed up my words and stammered. All this when around people I'm "comfortable" with. Around people I'm not comfortable around, it's amplified a thousandfold. I tried to explain this to my Aunt, and she just didn't seem to get it. Said "oh, you poor baby!" and then went on to ask me about a job. She just doesn't get it. I don't think ANYONE can get it, unless they live it. I could take a normal person and strip them naked in front of a crowd of people and make them sing showtunes an octave off key and they still wouldn't feel the level of anxiety someone with a bad anxiety disorder feels on a regular basis. And that's not even mentioning the BPD, which causes me to have bouts of extreme hyperness/manic happiness/giddiness/top of the world feelings, bouts of deep in the deepest, darkest of holes depression in which my life seems completely pointless, I feel that everyone hates me, I honestly want to be dead. And then there is the hair-trigger anger, the frustration and anger with myself, the irrational anger at others. The periods of apathy in which I can't make myself feel anything, care about anything or anyone, myself included. And if all this isn't enough, we have the rapid-cycling days (or weeks) where I shoot from one to another to another in an hour's time, or a day's time. Some people say it's like riding a rollercoaster, but that's not entirely accurate. It's more like riding the tilt a whirl. You have the ups and downs but you also have the spinning out of control while going up and down.

So anyways, all of this, plus the constant neck pain/limited dexterity/mobility is why I'm persuing disability. Not because I want to be lazy and not work. Not because I want to rely on the government. Because I have valid reason. Because I am broken.