Thursday, April 30, 2009

Stalking Can be Fun?

I got stopped again yesterday. This time for ....hhmmm...following an Maybe I just freaked him out... hehe. I wasn’t trying too. I was just trying to kill a little time while I was waiting to pick up my son from school at 2:00. It was raining and I really didn’t want to go back to the house, get out the car, get wet, go in the house for 15 minutes, and then go back out in the rain to get in the car again, just so I could pick him up. Instead I decided to just drive around in my circles.

Unfortunately, that made me repeatedly run into the same officer over and over again. I really didn’t think he would stop me for following him anyway, because....well... It was raining out, and what officer would want to get out in the rain for something as silly as a person following them? Maybe I scare them a little. Anyway, it gave me an idea for a new short story about stalking, so I’ll post it sometime this weekend.

And honestly, do you really think someone would admit to following an officer, if that officer stopped you and asked you outright, ‘were you following me?’ If I would have said, ‘yeah, I was bored and just following you around to see if you’re doing anything interesting’, I would probably still be trying to get out of jail for stalking.

I'm not stalking you.
I'm just sneaking a peek to make sure you're ok.
OH!!! By the way...Nice Pajamas....hehe

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Can't Sleep...Clowns will Eat Me

Depression: Anger without Enthusiasm

When You See My Face I Hope it Gives You Hell!!

Right now, I’m drinking. Not only am I drinking, but I’m a little fucking drunk. Hey! It’s legal! I would drink some more, but I’m out, and I’m damn straight not rolling to the store for more. Plus, all I can get at this time of the day is the 3-point piss water. Nasty shit...bout time to make a trip to Kansas!!

Also, Officer Asshole would love to bust me for that one, and tonight would not be a good night for that type of encounter. I’m in this fucked up mood where I feel like I want to slice the heads off every stupid motherfucker I meet. I could cuss someone out in about 3 seconds flat, which would probably led to a tasering now days. I'm just in a pissed off at the world kind of mood.

Maybe it’s because I’m not sleeping much. I only got about 4 hours last night. I take forever to fall asleep, then I wake up early and can’t seem to close my eyes again. That’s mostly why I’m drinking tonight. I’m hoping the alcohol will help me sleep a little longer. If I do get up early, I’m just going to get out and maybe go for a long walk at some park...maybe Chandler again.

I’ve slowed up on taking the Phentermine, thinking maybe that’s what is making my insomnia worse, but I don’t think that’s the problem. I’ve gone through this in the past when I wasn’t taken the phentermine, still I have to try something to stop the increasingly louder ringing in the my ears that I experience when I haven‘t slept much.

I also did a little research and found out I’m experiencing what is called a Mixed state. It’s when symptoms of mania and depression meet and collide, which can be very dangerous the way I understand it all. I guess it is, because when I’m just depressed I don’t have the desire or energy to force myself out of bed long enough to bathe, let only have the energy to kill myself. All I do is eat and eat everything sweet, until I fall asleep. With the mania, I’m too busy doing a thousand things to sit still long enough to think about dieing. Roll the two together, and I could be in serious trouble. The mania gives me just enough energy to carry out the plans of my depressed mind.

I’ve been thinking about getting on some sort of medication again, but that means calling my OHCA insurance and finding out what doctor I can see; fight with them on the phone for 30 minutes or more, until I‘m ready to just cut my wrist instead. Then I have to call the doctors office, and hope like hell they are not crazy than me; make the appointment; for probably a month or more from now; (which by then I might feel different or I’ve already killed myself); force myself out of the house to go; sit in the waiting room for an hour at least; sit maybe 5 minutes before some motherfucker thinks he immediately knows my diagnosis; get on some fucked up pill that might make it all worse. It’s all guess work.

Okay, this shit is making me lose my buzz. Fuck all you motherfuckers who don’t like the way I am. Want to do something about it...then you call my insurance company, you set up the appointment, you come pick me up and make sure I arrive at every appointment, then you bring me back home and let me be. Yeah, that’s what I thought. You give a fuck as much as I do. I’ve got to get off here before I start letting my true feelings show.

Pain is delicious
Reminds me that I’m real.
Pain organizes me
Defines the boundaries of where I end
And the world begins.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Driving in Circles

I've got to get out tomorrow and escape for at least a little while.

When you label somebody, you stop seeing them as a real person. And suddenly it’s okay to do all kinds of terrible things to them. Soon they stop seeing themselves as a real person and they just turn into that label. So what if I’m crazy, after 20 years of people treating me like I’m crazy, can you blame me?

I think I might have to do some drinking tomorrow night.

Monday, April 27, 2009

I Want Numb

I stand along the bank of the Arkansas River,
Staring at the rolling waves as the cold,
sharp water slaps against the rocks and splashes on my shoes.
The clouds have grown thick and gray,
obscuring any hint of a bright warm sunny day.
Tiny demons ooze from my pores,
And I wince at the slightest whisper of wind against my skin.

I step into the freezing icy cold water.
Within minutes, my feet become completely numb,
until I can no longer feel my toes.
After 5 minutes of staring, debating...
I won’t notice the stinging cold any more.
It was as if my feet will completely creased to exist.

I want my mind to feel that way.

I step further into the piercing cold water
Until it completely covers my knees,
And I don’t stop until it comes half-way to the middle of my thighs.
The pain from the cold was intense,
But still not enough to awaken my mind.

I force myself to stand there until I feel nothing at all.
Suddenly the sky betrays me,
and begins sending tiny droplets of rain across my all ready damp cheeks.
I let the rain lash my face,
which stings like a whip across an open wound.

The water reaches my neck,
And I think, I don’t necessarily want to die,
I just want to escape my inner turmoil,
But I see no other way to leave the confusion behind.
I lose all sensation in my lower body,
And the tips of my fingers turn icy blue white.

I look to the sky,
but I can’t catch a long enough glimpse
of a clear blue sky to believe in anything but bad weather.
Should I stay tethered and wait out the storm?
After all, I just need something to make the sky blue again.
Just give me one good reason
And no, it doesn’t have to be a good one,
Any reason whatsoever to why I should stay alive.

If not, I will take one last breath,
and then submerge my mind until it becomes totally numb.


Sometimes stories don't end happy,

It's just enough that they end,

To make way for new stories.

Sunday, April 26, 2009

NO SLEEP........... again




Tuesday, April 21, 2009

If There Was a Line That One Must Not Cross, I Had Reached It

It's 8:15am and since I slept hard last night after finally crashing, I'm up early, so I might as well finish my story....

If there was a line that one must not cross, I had reached it. The more involved my mania became, the quicker that line began to disappear, along with all my discretion and judgment.

I left the Doctors office around 3:30, cramping after the invasive painful procedure, but necessary according to the doctors. The pain, and the pills that I had taken, were doing nothing to slow down my manic mind that was running 10 times its normal speed. The day before I had tried smoking some marijuana to help calm me down, but when I’m that far out there, marijuana, pills, not even drinking Tequila relaxes me. It’s not even necessary for me to take the Phentermine on these days. I already have enough energy, and food just really doesn’t taste that great.

I really didn’t want to head home and have to think about sitting still, so instead of taking highway 75 exit from downtown Tulsa, back to my place, I drove towards Sand Springs to pick up something to eat for the first time that day. I purchased a six inch sub and a diet coke from a Subway near Wal-Mart, and then found a location not far away to park. I sat there trying to eat the tasteless meal, but all my mind could do was envision alternate endings to taking my life.

Recognition of my mania phase is one thing, but doing something about it is another story. When I’m manic my mind has a great many voices and none of them are ever silent. Each one speaking out of turn, interrupting each other with different thoughts and ideas. When I’m talking to other people, I assume these other personalities to fit whatever situation I’m in, which is sometimes good...sometimes not.

That day my voices debated about should I cut myself. Until one voice muddled it way to the surface and came in loud and clear. It shouted for everyone to just shut the fuck up and end this tortuous game that my mind was playing. A part of me knows that cutting will awaken my mind, but it can have many serious consequences. Still, at the moment, the voice that was telling me to cut myself, was the only voice I heard.

As I sat alone, parked in an almost empty field, watching cars drive by, I held a small knife blade to my left arm. My adrenaline began flowing as I thought about the relief that I would soon be feeling. At that moment, a friend called and I sat there for 10 to 15 minutes listening to her talk about what a bad day she was having. I listened, but absorbed very little of the conversation. As soon as she hung up, I went right back to what I was doing. I had to do something to bring me out of the manic phase. I knew if I didn’t do something soon, I would probably find myself locked up somewhere, and that just wasn’t an option.

I took a deep breath and looked up to make sure no one was around or looking in my direction. I immediately spotted a Sand Springs officer driving by, so I quickly hid the knife in my bra, and proceeded to leave the area. I didn’t want to explain to anyone in law enforcement what I was doing. Plus, just two days before, on Tuesday, I was driving around and around in my circles, trying to kill time while I waited on a friend to finish her DUI Classes at the Tulsa fire training center, when I ran into a Sand Springs officer that I met years ago, and knew him from being online at CopLounge. He looked me dead in the face, but I’m still not sure if he recognized me. Since he was working that shift on Tuesday, my mind ran through various images of his face, worried that it was him who was turning around and coming back my direction. I wasn’t ready for that yet.

I nervously pulled out of my parking spot, hoping the officer wasn’t really paying any attention to me, but I was wrong. He quickly swung through the parking area and got right behind me. Adrenaline poured through my chest, and my heart began pumping double its volume of blood.

I could see the officer quickly getting right behind me as he was talking on his radio. He was calling in the tag number, and of course I knew it was going to come back to a friend whose drivers license was still suspended. At the next light, I turned left and he turned on those colorful pretty lights, that would be beautiful, if they weren’t concealing someone who might be completely indifferent to my diagnosis.

When I’m manic there is nothing like having a law enforcement officer near me to embolden a manic mood. I was running a hundred scenarios through my head about what I was going to say to the officer, and I knew when I was surging this much, there was no telling what I would say.

I took a deep breath, opened my window and waited for him to ask for my drivers license and insurance, which I handed over. He asked me what I was doing in the area where I was parked, and I quickly told him I was just making a phone call. After a few more questions, he want back to the patrol car and I could see him calling in my drivers license. I nervously sat waiting, when I looked in the mirror and noticed he was looking down the road for another officer to arrive. That's never a good sign.

It was time to assume another personality. You know the one...the one where everything is fine and this is all just a big misunderstanding. I spoke with the younger officer while the first officer searched my car. When I’m manic and experiencing OCD at the same time, it makes it hard to let others touch my things, or to keep from talking. No one but another manic person could possible understand the agony of enforced silence. I had to finally bite the inside of my mouth to keep from saying too much. Still, I felt like I had given out more information than was necessary.

When the search was complete, I was informed that I was in possession of a Class 4 Drug... the phentermine that I’ve been taking for about 4 months now. I was informed that I could be arrested since I didn’t have them in a prescription bottle, but the officer was nice considering my past drug history and arrest, that he didn't place the cuffs on me, instead he just gave me ticket. For which I was truly thankful. The only part that really sucks is I have to show up in court. I quickly asked if I could bring the prescription in at anytime, but the officer said the Judge required that I appear. Fuck!

Afterwards I drove away, fully relieved that I didn’t have to cut myself just to shock my brain into producing the right chemicals so I could feel normal again. The manic mood ended, leaving me just normal enough to function without much thought. I just hope the depression that I know usually follows, won’t be so bad this time.

Monday, April 20, 2009

Secretly Suicidal

Mental Illness creates its own vibrant, colorful reality, which is so convincing sometimes, that it is hard to figure out exactly what is real and what is not.

Things have gotten harder to recall the older I get, because my memory seems to be a casualty of my manic depression. When I’m manic, all I remember is the moment, but when I’m depressed, all I remember is the pain. The surrounding details are lost. Hopefully telling my stories is what will keep me alive, even when death is in its most seductive pose.

People always mean well, but they don’t understand that when you’re seriously depressed suicidal ideation can be the only thing that keeps you alive. Just knowing that there’s a way out- even if it’s bloody, permanent - it makes the pain almost bearable for one more day.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve had the urge to die. Death just sounds like a vacation to me. A place to escape the brutal emotional rollercoaster I'm riding alone. To be somewhere else at times, is what my mind craves. Don’t get me wrong, there are times when I’m thrilled to tears to be alive and have what I have. Because I know there are many others who suffer far more than I do, yet continue their quest to live each day to the fullest. At times, I believe the world is wasted on me, and that, I think, is reason enough to die.

This past week I’ve felt like I had a monster living inside of me. I think I’ve been rapid recycling. For awhile I savored every smell, lingered over every sensation, and marveled at every creature comfort. But then the inevitable happens, my brain chemistry shifted and my mood plunged back down to despair. I believe I deserve to suffer, and crave the suffocation black nothingness.

Attempting suicide or serious cutting usually jump starts my brain chemistry. Problem is if I cut myself too deep, that means a trip to the ER, with lots of questions, so I won’t seek assistance. Years ago I was scolded by a doctor for being an ‘attention seeker’ and a nuisance. He was so unsympathetic that he refused to give me anesthesia while stitching up my self-inflicted wound. I was dismissed as someone who was wasting their time and I was not deserving of the same care as other injured people

It was never about the attention- I was just trying to relieve some of the emotional feelings, and I went too far. When I cut, I feel focused, appropriately punished, and a bit more in control of myself. I might even be smiling afterwards, because at that moment, I’m feeling more sane than I’ve ever been in my life. So, I will continue in secret. This wound I know how to heal.

My manic phase got me in trouble again last week. It sent me around and around the corner at least 3 times the posted speed limit, and sooner or later I knew some cop would be waiting for me on the other side, eagerly jingling his handcuffs. Luckily I wasn't arrested, but I do have to make an appearance in Sand Springs Court. Since this post is getting long, I'll finish writing about it tomorrow.

Thursday, April 09, 2009

I Did it Because...

I need to sleep like a baby.
(Me at one month old)

I had to go out for a drive tonight. I've been stressing over not having enough money for anything. I want to steal, but I refuse to let myself. Instead I just drove...around and around. I don't have money for weed and I'm tired of drinking, so I have to do something to take my mind somewhere else.

Finally got my rush. Wasn't a big one, but enough that I should sleep tonight. Thank you Officer RR. Just wish you wouldn't have been the one, I'm almost getting use to you. Anyway, I at least talked a little this time, which my therapist says is good. Still, not sure about that.

However, when the second officer showed up, panic set in even before I knew who the officer was. I'm not sure if I'll ever get past that feeling. I just knew I had to leave right then...luckily I was 'free to go' this time.

Officer R mentioned briefly that he was personally affected by someone's marijuana use, and that was why he was so hard on users. In my opinion, different people handle it differently. Where it maybe a problem for some, for others it can be a lifesaver. For me, there have been times had I not decided to 'go smoke one' someone might have ended up dead. Marijuana calms me down and keeps me from going on a possible violent killing spree. At other times, it kept me from taking my life. I just don't think about death and dieing when I'm high. Maybe marijuana wasn't for the person he knows, but for someone else it could mean life or death.

Time to sleep...I've got somewhere to go tomorrow...hehe.

Monday, April 06, 2009

Standing on the Edge

Insomnia Builds Character?

I've been trying to do anything I can think of to grab a sufficient rush, so I can have the crash later. I've also been doing several other activities to wear myself out, so maybe I'll get tired enough to sleep...

Here are some things I've done in the past 6 hours...

Cleaned my house...
Took a long walk...
Worked out with some hand weights...
Went to the casino...
Went shopping...
Stole a few things while people were watching...then put the stuff back on the shelf somewhere else in the store...
Went speeding around town...
Had a few drinks...
Called a friend...
Had a good quickie...
Had a few more drinks...
Went into Q-Trip while 3 cops were inside...while a little drunk...
Went to the neighbors house...
Had another drink...
Did some writing....
Wrote my brother in prison...
Cleaned some more...
Surfed the web...
Looked at porn...
Wrote this post...


Sunday, April 05, 2009

I Know What You Do

I know you touch yourself when you read my words. You race through the sentences quickly at first, skimming, searching for the point that will make you sigh. You languish in that place. Your thoughts wrapping themselves around the picture I have painted, just as your fingers wrap around your sex.

I know there are certain words that are a jolt to your gut. Dirty little spunk words that trip off the tongue. Words like wet and cunt, mouth and cum, ass and take. But it's the phrases that spill from my lips that make you ache with lust. That make you want. "Cum for me baby", begged with eager eyes. "Give it to me harder", pleaded urgently. "Fuck my ass lover", said as I look over my shoulder at you with big all-seeing eyes. Those are the things that make you reach down between your legs and touch that throb.

I know you close your eyes and imagine yourself there. Your fingertips gliding over and around all of my secret places. My wet and eager mouth on you, working you into a lather. How heavy my hair feels in your hands. What my pussy must taste like on your tongue. Picturing all of these naughty things, these sights and these sounds makes you crave that release.

I know you have me on all fours, and on my knees. I know you have me in your lap grinding, and head to toe lapping at each other. I know we make love under clouds of covers, and fuck bent over the hood of a parked car. I know sometimes it is just you and I, and other times it is a tangle of others with us. I know sometimes it is slow and sweet, and other times it is rough and raunchy. I know it's always a pleasure.

I know what you do.

Saturday, April 04, 2009

For all the reasons Why

(Saw this on the back of a tee-shirt...hehe)

Let's Drink

It eases the pain for at least a little while,
And helps bring smile.

I also drink because I can’t fly.
If only they would leave me alone I would be high.

I think I’ll drink till I hit the floor,
Then rise up and drink some more.

Don’t want to feel the weight of time,
So pour me another tequila with lime.

I’ll drink myself to sleep,
Then I won’t cut myself so deep.

I don’t have to think about why,
I always feel like I want to die.

I drink because a black hole at the center of our galaxy means certain death within two billion years.

Last reason to why I’m drinking...because I fucking like it!!!

Whatever the reason for my uncompromising inebriety, it’s nearly closing time here. And as I stagger home pondering my cirrhotic fate, I’m sure inebriation will conjure a few more causes for my present condition. So think of me tonight, under spinning ceiling and dancing walls, and raise a glass to me. Cheers.

I’m a fun drunk, as long as you don’t piss me off.