Sunday, March 29, 2009

I’m Going to Cry a River, Just so I Can Drown in it

While hibernating, I had a re-occurring dream that is very disturbing, and brought back all my old fears and anxieties. I haven’t had the dream in a long time, and each one that I do have, tends to be a little different, yet still mostly the same theme. I’ve never told anyone the dreams, mostly because of the shame I feel. Posting it here online, allows me to get it out of my mind, and knowing someone has read about it, makes it a little easier to deal with. Yet, I can’t talk about it to my best friend, or closest relative. It’s like a lot of things in my life, I write about it on this blog, but those closest around me, will never know these thoughts.

I was taking a shower, and my father came into the bathroom, (just like he did when I was 19), but instead of me screaming at him telling him to leave, in the dream he overpowered me and then he raped me while standing in the tub. Looking out the window in the bathroom as he committed the act, I saw very dark ominous clouds and the beginning of a heavy downpour of large drops of rain. As he finished the horrid act, outside, just below the bathroom window, I saw a woman’s corpse rise up out of the muddy ground. Fear overtook my mind and I tried to scream.

I woke to the dark, empty stillness of my bedroom, with my heart racing wildly in my chest. I felt sick to my stomach, and was disgusted that he was able to violate me still, by being in my dreams. All day I’ve tried to shake the relentless, taunting dream, but it continues to haunt my every thought. The torturous intensity of the dream led me to do a little research online to the meaning behind the dream. Here’s a little what I found out:

Dreaming of being raped, suggests that you are feeling violated in some way or being taken advantage of. You feel that someone or something is being forced upon you.

Something or someone is jeopardizing your self-esteem and emotional well-being. Dreams of rape are also common for those who were actually raped in their waking life.

To dream that you have been raped, indicates vengeful feelings toward the opposite sex. Having this experience in a dream has nothing to do with sex, as is true in real life.

If you were a rape victim, the traumatic nature of this experience may cause you to have a dream like this from time to time.

Dark clouds and a heavy downpour indicate feelings of isolation and helplessness.
Seeing a corpse-- Desire to keep something hidden.

And finally, what do they suggest?... Seeking help if the dream continues to re-occur. I’m not sure I want to go to sleep and find out if I’m going to dream about him again. Think I’ll just stay awake a little longer. Besides, how is someone going to stop my dreams from happening?

I still can’t confess about a lot of things in my life, because admitting them makes it that much more real.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

I Don’t feel REAL!!!

Miserable or in a state of torpor...that’s the best way to describe me right now. But I at least feel a little more ...inside my body now. For the past several days I’ve been feeling lost off in some far away land. I see, and hear things going on around me, but I don’t absorb anything. It’s like walking around in a dream lost in a forest. I feel completely disconnected from my body, and reality just doesn’t feel like the right place to be now.

Unreality has become my refuge. I don’t exist.

There’s a wilderness lose in my mind right now....don’t cut...don’t steal...don’t drink...don’t smoke...don‘t gamble...don‘t fuck so much...don’t drive too fast... ...don’t...don’t.... DAMN! I’ll be glad when these days pass.

And as the dial hits 100mph
and the base line is pumping through my body
Nothing else matters
I am free.

I think it may be my borderline personality disorder coming to the surface. I haven’t experienced it this bad in several months. I just feel so ‘out of it’, and later I don’t remember things I do or say. A psychiatrist once told me it was called dissociation. Basically I feel like I’m observing my body from the outside. Things look strange, unreal, or unfamiliar.

Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal.
--Alert Camus

It’s only a dream. It's only a dream...
See ya when I wake up in a few days.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Deep Below

I’ve decided I have to go somewhere by the river,
Far away, on my own.
I crave to be enveloped in the calmness of the green waters,
So much that it makes me want to cry.

With passionate suffering,
I have never known an urge so overpowering,
Reaching into my heart with every breath.

I imagine standing on the beautiful empty shore;
Walking across rocks into deep welcoming pools;
Descending into the soothing water,
The vast river in front of me.

I feel the cool water flow over my head,
As I sink down into its depth.
The sensation hugging my body.

The river swallowing me with its empathetic weight;
Away from everything;
I lay in the quiet, just floating like a dead body;
A weightless mind shimmers on the edge of a dream.

Transforming and becoming;
Living, Ending;
Tears merging with the flow of the tide.

My body flutters;
I sink to the bottom;
Eyes blinking at blurred orbs of light;
Death waits no more.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

This is as Normal as I Get

A person sent me an email the other day after they spent a little time on my site, and asked why I wasn’t currently taking medication for my bipolar disorder. He also said maybe I should be willing to try some of the newer meds that are out there. The thing is, I have tried many of the anti-psychotics out there. Too many to name each one.

All that I have tried over the years, leave me with some type of fucked up side effect, that is worse than living with the wild rides.

Here are what some of the atypical anti-psychotics can cause:

Metabolic Syndrome, increased risk for cardiovascular disease
Major Weight Gain (we're talking 50+ pounds in a fairly short time here)
Akasthisia (uncontrolled restlessness--feeling like you're jumping out of your skin)
Tardive Dyskinesia (irreversible, involuntary, dyskinetic movements)
Neuroleptic Malignant Syndrome (potentially fatal inability of body to regulate core temperature)
Loss of sexual orgasm.

Seroquel (another atypical) induced diabetes, massive weight gain (>100lbs) and metabolic syndrome in me. Abilify caused akasthisia and eye twitching.

And this is just a few of the problems I experienced while using these drugs. Now on the other hand, there is marijuana. Marijuana causes you to have the munchies, but other than that, there are no other fucked up side effects to worry about. When I’m having a really bad day dealing with my bi-polar disorder I want to smoke. And I don’t have to worry about involuntary body movements, or gaining 100 more fucking pounds. Their ‘wonderful’ drugs caused more problems than any street drug I have ever used. That’s why in the past 6 years I have refused their way to ‘cure’ me. I chose not to feel normal, if that is the price I have to pay. I’ll just smoke, and try to feel as close to normal as I can get.

This is what works for me. Some might still find peace in using the anti-psychotics, it is just not my choice. Use what works for you.

Friday, March 20, 2009

Get the Fuck away from here

Tomorrow I'm taking the boys to River City Park again. They had so much fun the other day that I've decided to let them spend another day enjoying the last day of their Spring Break there. It gives me a chance to relax and clear my mind. I've got too many thoughts running around in there.

I'm ashamed to admitt it...and I'll probably regret posting about it...but I've been fighting the urge to cut myself again. Instead, I've been doing other dumb ass shit to wake up my mind. I hate it when I go there. I've got enough fucking scars!! And I damn straight don't want to spend any time in jail.

Don't want to think about crazy shit!!
Let me instead dull my mind,
without the worry of being found out.

Few last thoughts...

I am battered and bruised.
Tore up.
I'm limping along, licking my wounds.
Putting myself back together
And smoothing down the frayed ends.
Taking stock and inventory,
accessing the damage.
Mentally reprimanding myself
for always needing the rush
of going beyond what's expected.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Why do you make me bleed?

Come here and physically drag me out of this horror and the tragedy to come, if you can. I need to be pushed down on my knees and have the gun held to my head. Otherwise I’ll just stay here - entirely passive, too tired to be aggressive - and continue to just sit, letting my life rot away on my king sized bed, within my comfortable walls shrouded in total darkness. The flickering images of fear, terror, desperation and destruction is beamed onto my face, yet I’ll still feel nothing.

I’m not proud to be crunching absentmindedly on nachos and washing away the feelings by slurping from this sweet and bitter bottle of soco & lime. My stomach feels sickened by drinking so much. Will you kiss it and make things all better? Will you do something to make the pain go away? Maybe warm words will suffice. Will you tell me that you’re sorry for my suffering?

I’m appalled. Disturbed. Shocked. Angered. So don’t expect me to move or be moved. Don’t count on me to do anything beyond letting my jaw drop open slightly and my eyes to widen. Instead, I’ll attempt to absolve myself from my crimes. If we ever meet in some alternative reality where the world has been molded into the long awaited melting pot of peace and love, I’ll ask you whether you’ll be able to forgive me.

Will you pardon me for the fact that I couldn’t even be bothered to walk by or come over and kick you in the stomach? But instead I simply sat, stared, munched, and drank? I nurse a mind that’s entirely blank. As blank as this screen will be, when I press standby and switch myself off.

Is that the time? It’s long past the hour for untroubled sleep.

Friday, March 13, 2009

The great art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain

Today has been one fucked up day. It’s the middle of March and we had snow and sleet. Guess I should be use to it, since I live in Oklahoma, but it just throws a bone in your throat sideways. Instead of going shopping in the cold mess, I stayed home and did nothing but catch up on some reading. For the most part, my day was totally uneventful...completely boring to be more precise.

I wouldn’t even be writing anything if it wasn’t for the little incident that happened around 6pm. I was doing a little cleaning up, dusting, changing the sheets on my bed, straighten things know the usually stuff. I placed all my pillows onto the floor near my nightstand, that had a lit candle sitting on top. I checked and thought it was all clear, but a corner of one pillow got to close to the flame and quickly ignited. I was in the hallway getting out clean pillowcases and sheets, when I smelled something burning. I quickly followed the smell into my bedroom and saw the pillow on fire.

Thinking as quick as I could, I grab the flaming pillow and rush it to my bathroom. As I’m carrying it towards the bathroom, parts of the inside of the pillow (I made them a few years ago, using old seat cushions, and cutting them into small ½ inch squares) start falling everywhere. Small balls of fire are spread all across my bed, my dresser, the floor...and I’m freaking out. I start screaming FIRE!! at the top of my lungs until my son and friend comes running into my bedroom.

They grab buckets of water, stomp it with their feet and hands, but the flames are spreading everywhere. I see my purse catching on fire, and yell to my friend to grab my purse. He reaches for it real quick and throws it towards we, still on fire! I put it out and grab a few other things and put them out with my hands. I don’t know how but after about 10 minutes we finally get the fire under control without having to call the fire department.

Most of the damage was contained to the area around my bed. Still, it burnt all my mattresses on one side, burnt my camera case, 2 purses, a pair of house slippers, several writing notebooks, part of the wall is now black, and the carpet is destroyed in that area. Plus everything is now soaking wet. I guess I should feel lucky...with all my writing, books and other things in that area, it could have been a lot worse.

I’ve got burns on my right hand and a couple small spots on my face, but nothing serious. It probably fucked up my breathing worse than anything. I’m still coughing up black crap. It’ll take a few days to get everything cleaned up, and a few hundred dollars to take care of the damage. I’m still a little shaken up by seeing the flames so high. I’m probably going to be awake for most of the night, worrying about if it might try to re-light. Tomorrow has got to be a better day!!!’s Friday the 13....maybe I should just stay home.

The only good thing about what happened, was the adrenaline rush I got...sure helps with this crazy ass depression. But I have a feeling it won’t last very long, and the crash will soon follow.

Dark demons in my dreams,
turn my laughter into screams.
What was good now is bad,
damn these demons get me mad.
I wish there was a way to fight,
but these demons come back every night.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

The Ride is Over

I’m moving out of the manic phase into the worst parts of my OCD, with a little extra depression thrown in there just to keep things interesting. Here is a site that explains my OCD better than I can.... I think I’ve posted the link before...I don’t really remember. My problem is very similar, but with a slight twist, and I haven’t figured out a way to handle the ‘thoughts’ yet. I just don’t fucking understand why my mind and body has to respond in this way. I’m not doing anything different than I was just a few days ago, but it’s like overnight my moods all changed without warning. My hours of sleep have increased to 9 hours now, but I feel like I want to sleep even more. I’m forcing myself to get out of bed, forcing myself for the past 3 hours to write this down, forcing myself to push through feeling all these voices in the back of my head, run around to the front and out the opening in the front of my face. I have to force myself to be. FUCK!

Feeling closed off from the rest of the world.

Everyone has got to be looking at me like I’m crazy.
I’m trying not to listen to voices around me, but they are all talking so loud.

What really sucks is if the pattern stays the same, the manic feelings leave my body, next comes the OCD, and then for God only fucking knows why, the depression sets in for a long stay.

Hold onto something, this is going to be a bumpy ride.

Friday, March 06, 2009

My Day

Finally made it to Chandler Park today around 12:30 with a friend who had never been there, even though she has lived around Tulsa most of her life. We took several pictures, and then I drove the back way to the other park where my purse was taken.

On the way there, we saw a motorcycle accident near Q-Trip and the underpass. A guy ran his SUV into the back of the motorcycle, causing his bummper to really get fucked up. I was really shocked that no one got hurt.

We then drove through the park and I looked in a few trashcans, but I didn't have any luck finding my purse. There were only a couple things in my bag that I really would like to have back, some things I'll just replace, and the rest oh well... what can you do?

My friend and I both took several pictures at Chandler Park I'll post a couple...just click on them if you want to see a larger view.

Thursday, March 05, 2009

I started out with nothing and still have most of it left

Wow! Its been a long day. I got up at 8:30am because my son calls and says he over slept and needs a ride to school. By the time I get back to my house, it’s past 9am, so I figure I might as well stay up, five hours of sleep is enough for the state I’m in right now. I shower, eat a Egg Mc Muffin, throw back some French vanilla coffee, pop a few pills and I’m out the door for the rest of the day.

I didn’t go to Chandler Park like I planned, instead I ran a few errands, and then went to the library to get a few books to inspire my thinking in a more positive way. Afterwards I spent time walking around at the parks in our small, everybody knows you busy, kind of town. I felt a little uncomfortable knowing Mr. RR was on duty. Asshole!! (Yeah I like you as much as you like me.) Anyway, I felt uncomfortable every time a car came near to where I was parked, so I never really got to relax, like I can when I go out of town. So, I think tomorrow I’ll go to Chandler Park for lunch and walk around for a little while. Maybe I can relax there.

One thing I didn’t do today, was go to court. No, I didn’t fuck off going, I just did some cock sucking and got enough money to pay the damn thing. $230 fucking dollars!!! ...and I’m not sure if has helped any to remind me to s l o w the hell down. When I’m manic I tend to do a lot of reckless things, mostly because I just don’t think. Or maybe my mind is over thinking. I usually have 5 or 6 voices talking in my head, so that makes it a little difficult to concentrate on one specific thing. It’s kinda funny. I’m always by myself, with no traffic around, when I tend to speed. If there are other cars around, I’m a lot more careful, guess that’s why I’ve never had a wreck since I first started driving.

After visiting all three of the bigger parks in town, I headed home, cooked a little dinner, and then headed out for a night at the Casino off of 81st and Riverside in Tulsa. A friend that owed me a little money for a favor or two, split what she had with me, and we spent the next several hours playing different games. I was smart enough this time that I cashed out each time I reached around $20 dollars, so in the end I brought home what she gave me...which was nice.

It’s now past 1am, and I’m still a little hyper, so much so that I feel like doing some touch-up painting on my kitchen cabinets again. I told myself to wait until this week-end, and instead write down my day. Pretty normal this time, at least. I think the key sometimes, is just to stay busy.

What is the meaning of life?
To be happy and useful, knowing that you lived every bit of it the way you wanted.

Here are some pictures that I took at the River Park yesterday...beautiful!!! I plan on going back again soon. Just click on any picture to enlarge it if you want.

Wednesday, March 04, 2009

We are born naked, wet and hungry. Then things get worse.

Yesterday, I knew the weather was suppose to be nice for today, so I thought I would try to get up early enough to enjoy this enticing Wednesday...alone. To do this I had to go out of town, where hopefully nobody knows who I am, and just relax. I’ve been too manic for the past few days, so I decided it would be a good idea to take a long walk at one of the parks in the town I where I went, maybe do a little writing, take a few pictures, and then afterwards I could get some shopping done at Wal-Mart. Anything to get rid of some of this excess energy.

The weather was little cloudy out, but the temperature was just right for me, not to cold or to hot, just perfect for a long walk. I sat in the car briefly, writing down a few thoughts that were running around in the back of my head. Then I put my writing in one purse, bag, that I carry...extra...things in, like writing material, and other personal items, that I don’t really want to mention. Then I took my main purse, the one with the money in it, and locked it in the trunk before I took off on my walk, leaving the other purse sitting in the passenger seat.

Like a dumb ass, I leave the car unlocked and take off walking, enjoying the walk along the river. I walked around for a little over an hour before returning to the car. The second I sit down in the car, I notice my purse is missing. At first, I just thought maybe I locked it in the trunk with my other purse, so I quickly got out to look. And of course, it wasn’t there, but luckily the one with money was still there.

I thought about calling the police, but whoever took it, didn’t get much, maybe a few dollars that I kept in a pocket. Most of the rest of the stuff was just personal items, that are rather embarrassing to admit that I was carrying. So, I choose not to call the police, and hopefully whoever took it, throws the purse away, so no one else comes across the contents.

Other than that, I had a great day. My knees are hurting a little bit, after the long walk, and the shopping in Wal-Mart, but nothing that a couple ibuprofen won’t take care of in a couple hours. Even though I had a bad experience, my fault though, I was caught slipping, I might go back again tomorrow for another walk. If I don’t go to the same park, I might go to Chandler Park this time. It’s a really nice park, that I haven’t been to since I hurt my knees a few years ago. I miss being able to do the rock jumping, and climbing, but my knees are so bad now, that one wrong turn and I would be fucked. I don’t even want to think about twisting my knee at the bottom of the cliffs and have to call 911for someone to come get my fat ass up out of there. We’ll just avoid that kind of activity for the rest of my life. At my age, even if I did get my knees repaired, I can’t see me being able to do that ever again.

Well, guess I’ve killed enough time, writing down my thoughts, like in a diary, but only instead of it being private, anyone who wishes can dwell into my mind.

I write for the same reason I breathe;
Because if I didn't, I would die.

Tuesday, March 03, 2009

Can I Swim in the Ocean While I Write Poetry?

It’s past 3am and I still can’t seem to relax, so I’ll turn to the only thing that seems to quiet my mind...writing. My mind has been having so many killer thoughts, that some of the stories running through my mind even frighten me a little. But I can’t slow down...I’m full of endless energy at the moment. It’s way better than that shithole depression cycle that I’ve been in, but that also means my mind has ten thousand things going on at the same time, making it almost impossible to finish one thing before I’m ready to do something else.

I averaged around 6 hours sleep yesterday, and around the same last night, and surprisingly I’m not sleepy at all. Today I got ready and did some spending at the grocery store, and spent more than what I should have, but I just felt the need to get things. It probably didn’t help out with this manic phase I’m going though, by drinking too much coffee this morning around 9am, skipping breakfast and lunch because I took a phentermine, low blood sugar, had an encounter with a highway patrol officer...nice, not much sleep, and then throw in the mania....WOW!!! Talk about high-strung.

I’m also thinking about my court’s this fucking Thursday!!! Good thing I looked today, I thought it wasn’t until later in the month. I’ll probably wait until that day to decide if I’m going to court, or just pay the damn thing. It was my faulty ass brain, not thinking clearly, as the reason why I got the damn ticket.

It’s now way past 3 am and I’m still up flipping through the dictionary and surfing online to find the words that describes EXACTLY how I feel. Can I run away just to see if anyone cares? I just have all this unbridled mania and I don’t know what to do with it. I’ve tried finding things to occupy my mind and take me away from the intrusive thoughts, but nothing seems to be working tonight. It’s just sometimes I’m so afraid of failing that I don’t even want to try.

Enough psycho thoughts for the night, maybe I’ll go lay down and stare at the ceiling for the next few hours.

My mind occasionally drifts away into little fantasies of what life would be like had I pulled the trigger on him that day.

Scars are like tattoos...but with better stories.

It always rains the hardest, on the people who deserve the sun.

The stars will cry the blackest tears tonight.

I’m going to smile like nothings wrong.

Suicide is a cry for help ... a last ditch attempt to communicate from a private hell.

Monday, March 02, 2009

Nothing really to Say

Don't wanna say much...just bored.

"Live to the point of tears."
-Albert Camus

Alright, so I'm a manic depressive. What do you want from me?