New, again.

5 Aug

I’ve been taking something called Celexa.  I might as well be taking baby aspirin or multivitamins.  The only difference in my moods is that I have at least thirty minutes worth of collective bright spots in my day as opposed to none.

I’m also getting married.  I’ve moved in with my new companion out in the middle of nowhere where the main street in town features a feed store and the inhabitants all recognize each other by face.  People move like snails and simple errands is an all day affair.  The air smells like manure and when I pull out of my driveway, there’s a possibility that I’ll murder Bambi as she crosses my path. I hear nothing but crickets at night.  I have no neighbors, no one to people-watch and gossip about.

The days are long.  Time stands still. Sleep comes in spurts. I long to become accustomed to the stillness and learn to embrace it.  I yearn to find a spot in this world where I can feel at ease and have some sense of belonging.

The closest neighbor has a little mutt dog named Benji, like the one from the movie of the same name.  Whenever I’m feeling lost or sad, Benji will come all the way across the field and find me.  He sits with me until the moment passes.

Maybe I’m not so alone after all.  Or maybe I just need new medication.


The Disillusioned

18 Jun

I hope so because I have a lot of it…

Sattva Holistic

“Sorrow prepares you for joy. It violently sweeps everything out of your house, so that new joy can find space to enter. It shakes the yellow leaves from the bough of your heart, so that fresh, green leaves can grow in their place. It pulls up the rotten roots, so that new roots hidden beneath have room to grow. Whatever sorrow shakes from your heart, far better things will take their place.” Rumi


The romantic notion of transformation is so prevalent in the current homogenous cultural context, as a joyous and exuberantly positive mystical experience. However, the reality and truth of this process resembles the opposite, appearing more reminiscent of some type of suffering; painfully letting go of our outdated notions of who we have been and a feeling of extreme disillusionment and dispassion with the nature of our surrounding reality.

Historically, throughout the world, within  indigenous cultures there…

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21 May

I miss writing, I really do.  I barely journal on paper anymore either.  It makes me feel naked and exposed and vulnerable.  It makes the thoughts solid and almost permanent.  If I don’t write them down then it’s quite possible that they are fireflies in my imagination.

I’m in between jobs again.  I’ve decided to return to the one that makes me crazy but pays me well, well enough to have medical benefits so I can see my shrink.  Then I can get meds that make it possible for me to work at said job that makes me crazy in the first place.  Vicious, infuriating cycle that pays the bills.

I had met a man that I’d wanted badly to be The One.  I knew he wasn’t.  He looked down on people with addictions.  I talked too much too.  Actually, I wasn’t fluffy enough and brought up too many controversial issues.  He had some type of thinking phobia, maybe.  Anyway, it hurt my heart for a solid two days when he said in so many words that I had some disturbing qualities and we were incompatible.

I’ve been dating a lot, actually. It’s pretty damn exhausting.  I can’t possibly be expected to remember every stinkin’ detail about several different brand new people.  I mix them up.  Who likes coffee, who doesn’t like coffee, who has kids, who has dogs…Jesus.  It’s pretty bad when you tell someone hey, I’d meet you for coffee but you don’t like coffee and they’re like, when did I say I didn’t like coffee? I love coffee!  Eh. It hurts my brain, all of it.

My baby boy is leaving me soon to join the Marines.  This makes me sad.  I try not to think about it.  I got emotional the day that we picked up his cap and gown.  He’s a really big kid…over six feet tall and muscled.  Girls like him.  I hate that part.  I hate tramps sniffing around my child.  One day, one of these little skanks will replace me in his heart.  He’ll have babies with her and shit. I hope he chooses wisely.  For now, I’m the girl that he wants to snuggle with when he has a bad day.  I’m the Mama!

It’s different with the girls.  The girls are like my little sidekicks, my “allies in the family confederacy” I guess.  Especially my oldest.  She is like my rock.  I can tell her anything.  It’s cool now that she’s grown…she’s not just my daughter, she’s my friend too.

But back to what I need to do next.  Get this job that brands me as a normal, functioning member of society so that I can pay bills in a timely fashion, have a damn savings account with money in it, and get my ass to the doctor.  Not just the head doctor, but the boob doctor because damn the fuckin’ luck but that lump has returned.  Again, something I try not to think about.

My new boss is texting me.  I think she is ready for me to return to work already.  It’s nice to feel needed sometimes.


28 Sep

I had taken Effexor for so long that I’d forgotten why I was taking it. It had become a part of my routine. Taking it was like brushing my teeth. Behind the action there was always the dull awareness that if you don’t do these mundane things, your teeth might rot. Or you might have a mental split and impulsively slit your wrists.

I understand now how much of life had been muted for me and desensitized in order for me to navigate more smoothly through it. Without medication, I have no filters. The pause between thoughts and speech has been annihilated. Anger is more like the sensation of eyeballs boiling hot and skin crackling from a smouldering fire that originates from the flesh beneath.

I’m exhausted by the amount of tongue-chewing I have to do now in order to spare the unsuspecting and stupid people who cross my path. This is an all day affair. The part where I make the decision to hold my wrath, however, is pretty empowering.

On the flip side of acid tongue and vitriolic thought, I have feelings. They’re pretty genuine feelings too with their raw and unedited vulnerability. I don’t recognize myself right but truthfully, that’s really nothing new.

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More whine, anyone?

10 Sep

Effexor withdrawal is a bitch. Today is Day 3 and someone has turned the sunlight on full blast. I feel like I’m having a mini seizure every time I use my eyeballs.

I’m plagued with fear when I think of the financial crisis that I’ve put myself in by abandoning a very secure job in pursuit of starting my own business. Am frustrated with the lack of clients and my rising utility bills. Am discouraged by the lack of responses from the child support agency, Medicaid, and unemployment office for assistance. I even applied for SSI which I know is a long and arduous process.

I’m trying to find something to be positive about today. Instead, I just feel hopeless, defeated, fat, hideous, and disappointed in myself.

In spite of it all, I don’t want to drink today.


12 Oct

I’ve always lied to people and told them how much I like changes and how they should embrace change too and welcome growth.  This is bullshit.  I’m a control freak and we do not like changes and life alterations that we did not bring about ourselves.

Mind you, I’ve made some changes in my life that were completely healthy and necessary.  I’m growing in this recovery thing  just like I’m supposed to.  I was thoroughly relieved, however, to learn that my discomfort with it all is okay and even expected.  After all, I’ve spent my entire breathing time doing things a completely different way.  I should be allotted time to grieve the loss of those coping skills that have served a purpose for me.  It doesn’t matter to me that they weren’t appropriate.  It matters to me that it’s time to say goodbye and meet new ones that are completely unfamiliar.

Progress, but never perfection.

10 Oct

My appointment at The Breast Center went well.  The ultrasound revealed that my mysterious lump has vanished and so there was no need for a second biopsy.  The kind doctor also absorbed my seventy dollar fee for my visit.  I am now enjoying my day off at the bookstore with my boyfriend and will later get to go to a meeting at my home group.

I heard a song this morning that only two months ago I was in tears upon hearing it.  It’s amazing how completely consumed I was with bitterness, rage, pain, and guilt over the demise of my marriage.  It was the first thing that I thought about upon rising, and the last thing that I entered my mind before sleep would take over.  My spare thoughts centered around how to bring about his untimely vanquishing from fucking Earth without dire consequences.  It doesn’t help that the he lives on my street and can be seen checking his mail from view of my front porch.  Ex Sightings two months ago sent me through the roof.  Ex Sightings today barely register a pulse.  This is progress for me!

I try to stay focused on what’s in front of me and not what’s behind that I cannot change, and what may or may not be in front of me that has not happened.  Daily living brings enough to keep me busy as it is.