The veil lifted.
Hooray!

By the time Sunday afternoon rolled around, I felt like myself again.
Tired and a little worn out, but balanced and thinking clearly.
Actually I felt great most of the day on Saturday, too. Once I had been awake long enough to shake off the dusty emotional ick left over from the panic attack I suffered on Friday night, that is. Saturday night, however, I was being dumb and took an illegal detour (I knew better, but sometimes my thrill-seeking nature overrides my good sense) and ended up sick. Throwing up over and over and over. Ugh. Thank God my head is okay, though. For the moment anyway.


Right this moment I am taking a few minutes to think about and pray for all the people in my life who need - well, something.
I have friends that are happy, and I pray they never lose their joy.
I know people who are staring death in the face, and I hope that they receive a miracle and are able to enjoy good health and more time to live this life we've been given.
I see marriages that are tense, crumbling, and stale. I pray for all these people to find life's best joy - whether it be together or apart.
I have friends who are scared, and I hope for their courage and confidence.
I have friends who are addicted, and I pray they find their way out of the cage before their life is irrevocably stolen.
A few people I know & love are confused, and I hope they find clarity and purpose.
And for the many, many of us who are dissatisfied and longing, I pray for inner peace.

I feel slightly better than I did on Tuesday, but I'm still pretty mentally fucked.

I suppose the particular manic spell I've dealt with over the last month or so is over now, because I've crashed into an apathetic, bone-weary sadness that has no cause and seemingly no remedy. I keep putting band-aids over the gushing wound that is my heart, but nothing seems to be working. I've lost touch with my emotions almost entirely...they are are a swarming whirlwind inside of me, landing briefly, like a mosquito, to pierce me, then gone - making way for a different (usually contradictory) emotion to land and stab me once again. I cycle like a hurricane daily through depressed, elated, anxiety-ridden, confident, feeling loved, abandoned, hopeless, bright, and insecure.

I had the first real panic attack I've had in months last night, in the balcony of a theatre. I couldn't breathe, my heart was racing at an alarming rate, everything around me went bright, then fuzzy, then tunneled. All I could hear was a roar, and my own heart's pounding. I excused myself, stumbled into the stairwell, shaking all over, and tried to breathe and collect myself. People saw me like that, squatted on the concrete floor, head down, panting, and passed me by, clearly uncomfortable about what to do - should they should stop and help this crazy girl or just pass by? They all passed by, thank God. No one needs to see me like that. Whether stranger or friend, episodes like last night's humiliate me enough without the added shame of me being made into a public spectacle.

I wish I could just be well.
I wonder, as I often do, if this time the crazy is going to stay.
I'm exhausted. Heartsick. And very, very scared.
I wish someone could help me...

My heart is breaking.
God, it hurts so bad.

If there are words to describe what's inside me right now, they are completely out of my reach. Today is my birthday and I have rarely in my life felt so alone. I have so many, many things to be grateful for, but still I am

hollow...
bored...
frustrated...
passionless...
lonely...
depressed...
aching...
dying...

I could be scandalous and forthcoming with the details of my pain, but there's no need to send my black tentacles of discontent and misery into the lives, hearts, and minds of the friends who actually like me enough to read this (and who I like enough to allow to.) I am making (yet another) doctor's appointment today and will beg for the medicine that will most effectively render me emotionless. I have fought tooth and nail for years and years against the drugs that would steal my fire and passion. Now I find myself more than willing, eager actually, to hand over everything I am - my exuberance, my agony, my joy, my lust, my hope, my blinding light, my love, and my suffocating blackness. Fuck fire. Fuck passion. Fuck feeling. I just desperately want to be numb.

I shouldn't feel like I have to censor myself in my own blog, but of course I have to. I'm married! Wheeeee! Screw being honest and real and expecting someone else to love you, judgment-free, just as you are. Like an idiot, I always seem to forget the working description of love, which is far different from the poetic description. Let me see if I can re-learn this now....


Love is ownership.
You now belong, slave-like, to another person. You have the right to be yelled at, put down, condescended, given ultimatums, the cold shoulder, etc. when you dare to defy your owner's expectations of you.

Love is parasitic.
Love feasts on everything you think & want & have that is yours and only yours. You are no longer a person with unique thoughts and feelings and dreams. You are half of a pair. And don't you forget it.

Love is misleading.
Just because someone acts okay, says they are okay, and appear to actually be okay for the moment doesn't mean they are, in fact, okay. Expect explosive repurcussions at the most inappropriate times for either your (1) lapses in behavior, often which have nothing at all to do with your partner (2) patterns of thinking that happen to conflict with your partner's thinking patterns or (3) if the wind blows the wrong direction.

Love is unchanging.
And so you must be, too. Any fluctuation of the needs, wants, and heart are completely unacceptable to someone in love and will be met with hurt feelings, threats, and heroic measures of guilt-eliciting. It doesn't matter at what age you met and how long you live, you must remain forever exactly the same in presence and mind until the day you draw your last breath unless (of course) your partner wants you to change. In that instance, refer to definition #1.


I am aware that I'm not an obedient person.
I am aware that my mental issues & strong personality make me a nightmare to live with. I am aware that my owner/husband does nothing wrong and that everything is my fault. I am aware of how hurtful, and selfish, and irresponsible I am. I am aware that I expect too much and give too little. Now that I've admitted many (but not all, I'm sure) of my shortcomings and have said nothing personally attacking my owner/husband, I wonder whether or not he will still try to "make me" delete this post. I am wondering, if he does attempt to force my hand, whether I will cave like a good little wifey should and pretend (before all 5 people who read this damn blog) that I don't have any dissenting feelings about the way my home life has been running for the last several months. I guess we'll see....

Holy shit...
Holy shit...
Holy shit...

Antony and the Johnsons "the Crying Light"

Excellent. Two of the tracks are nothing short of amazing, but all of them are quite good.

This is very, very specific-to-mood music. It would fall flat 90% of the time for me, but when I am alone, melancholy & vaguely sleepy, it's perfectly on target. Men will have trouble admitting how much they like this band because Antony is so obviously homosexual. Lovely, but definitely not for the musically unevolved.

5 days?
6 days?

I still have not slept.
I cannot eat.
I am now sick - headache and coughing and almost total incoherence.
I've lost 8 pounds in a week.
If I weren't so vain I would post a picture of my poor eyes...formerly pretty eyes that now look like I've spent the last month on a meth binge.
My face is white as a sheet, and I have a fever.
The things coming out of my mouth are suddenly uncencored and vulgar...I use curse words for emphasis (the correct usage, imo) but lately I've been filling my sentences with wild, stampeding herds of them and (worse) forgetting not to use them in front of my son. Oops.
Basically, I am not well.

Today I am going to the doctor, prepared to take anything that will make this horror stop. I no longer feel crackling and alive....I feel like my mind has snapped and leaked out every bit of whatever was in there holding my thoughts together. It has never been this bad for me. Close, but never this bad. I need this shit ripped out of me! It's tense and wound like a tightly coiled spring....ravenously waiting for the fight, the screaming sex, the drug, or the dancing to the point of exhaustion that might allow this pressure some avenue to get the hell out of my head.

The bright side: I have friends who make me very happy through even the worst of my lunacy and, like a kiss on a skinned knee, the pain goes away - at least for a little while. So you smile and I smile and we laugh and talk and dance and dream and ponder. Thank you so much for being there for me.

I feel so sad for Michael Phelps.

America's beloved golden boy/pride of the USA/athletus extraordinairus has been busted in front of the whole world holding in his large, gold-medal winning hands......a bong!

Ta da! How could this be?
Could it be possible to partake of illegal substances and still be (gasp!) on top of your game? Maybe. Is it possible that marijuana isn't the evil, life-destroying devil that government propaganda makes it out to be? I would say it's more than possible. Is he going to get all his endorsement money yanked because he was caught doing what the majority of guys his age do at least occasionally (albeit without media fanfare?) It is almost certain, unless High Times decides to endorse him as poster boy for their "pot is good for you" campaign.

I am so tired of alcohol being legal and marijuana not.
The laws are backwards, stupid, and wrong. I have never had substance issues, thank heavens, but I know alot of people who have. And it's never pot causing the trouble. In my limited but intense research and experience, drinking alcohol is the most common culprit when it comes to life-destroying addictions. Followed by cocaine, meth, and prescription pills. Heroin (of course) is a no-brainer when it comes to how-to-quickly-flush-your-entire-life-down-the-toilet, but since 95% of all the people I've known are terrified to touch the stuff, it kind of falls off the radar. I can say with absolute conviction that marijuana is the least problematic drug in existence.

I have known exactly one person in my life who had serious addictive behavior when it came to pot, and he (unfortunately for my heart) had deep personal and emotional issues that contributed to his need to stay high. His was a psyche problem, not a drug problem. And even where he is/was concerned, it is better that his drug of choice be something safe rather than something that would have already put him 6 feet under, like all the other drugs I just mentioned probably would have by now, including the wonderfully socially accepted drug called beer/wine/jack daniels.

I have great respect for people who choose not to imbibe in mind-altering substances. It's a great choice for mental and physical health. It is a fine moral choice. But I have to give a huge eye-rolling, condescending sigh to all those drinkers out there who will catch a legal buzz from bud light or martinis while shunning pot and all those who partake in it as if it/they were from the pits of hell. Why must people be so blind and sheeplike? Why can't people just open their eyes and realize that our government is a bureaucratic machine that thrives on money (and only money) and rarely upholds stances that are right, smart, or best for the American people.

To: Michael
Good luck with this one, buddy.
In a perfect world you wouldn't have to deal with this huge load of bullshit. I hate seeing you get chewed to pieces and spit out by the cogs and gears of the good old USA when you didn't do anything wrong. As I see it....something being legal doesn't always make it right. And something being illegal doesn't always make it wrong.

I haven't slept in 4 days.
This is why bi-polar people don't live very long.
They just wear out....

My thoughts are barely making sense.
I stare into space like I'm catatonic one moment and whiz around a thousand miles per hour the next. My eyes are as red as beets from being open for nearly 96 hours straight. It feels good to shut them, but they fly back open after just a minute because I'm so wired.

I'm miserable but I kind of love it, in a demented sort of way.
I feel crackling and alive....

I'm on a roll.

Twice during the month of January I dealt with mean-spirited people whose viciousness was directed at me for absolutely no good reason. I mentioned the girlfriend of my friend M already, and that situation still leaves me scratching my head in amazement. She was so crazy that I was never able to work up a really solid anger about her being so hateful and accusatory. It's kind of put away now....I'll never see the lunatic again and I'm doing all I can to be supportive of my friend in hopes that he can be successfully single until the right girl comes along.

Last night was quite different, as I enjoyed my second bout of being randomly mistreated. These guys were acquaintences - friends of friends - and had a sketchy track record of being assholes to other people, especially where alcohol happened to be involved. Well, let's just say I endured a minute or two of a real, honest-to-goodness, seventh grade style bullying that was directed entirely at me by two adult men (my Lord!) These two big, stupid dumbasses evidently have to get their metalhead jollies by mocking, offending, abusing, and insulting people who have done nothing but be nice to them. It's retarded, and I'm disgusted. Are these really grown men? One of them is my age, for God's sake!

I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt and excuse bad behavior as much as I reasonably can. I know as well as anyone than about black moods and being annoyed, but these guys seem to honestly think there is some coolness or virtue to verbally hammering innocent people out of pure meanness. One leads, the other mostly follows and laughs along (as is the norm for bullies and their sidekicks.) The thing that really ticks me off worse than anything else is that I have gone out of my way consistently to to be very, very nice to these two horrible people!

Well, I'm done.
Absolutely freaking done.