Lifeless Breeze

Today has been dull. I did a little cleaning around the house, then cleaned out the pool, took a long swim, and then laid around doing nothing else.

I keep thinking of a thousand things to say when I’m in the shower, or in the pool cooling off, but then I get on the computer and my mind goes blank. I guess that’s what happens when you quit smoking weed. I stop again, only because I can’t afford any, so I might do a little drinking this weekend.

Thursday around noon, I’m going to Keystone Lake with a few friends and family. I don’t really need to get out in the sun any more, because I got a little sun brunt today, but it should still be fun anyway. Just got to wear some sun screen on my white ass...hehe. Lol.

I’ve been having crazy thoughts running all around in my little circles, trying to find a place called home. Don’t know if those kind of thoughts will ever cease. I went out driving the other night, around and around, until even I got bored. I’ve just got to find a new way to relax my mind.

That tingling on your cheek;
The itch on your scalp;
The goose bumps on your body;
The cold breeze around you;

Feel the tingle;
Scratch the itch;
Touch your skin;
Inhale the fresh air.

Ways to Annoy People ( and get even ).

I’m thinking of every possible method of harassing, and annoying someone to the point of insanity.


Put Vaseline on their car door handles.
Write their name and phone number on a public bathroom wall.
When you are talking to them, stare back and forth at their eyebrows.
Sign up their e-mail address on spam websites.
Steal their pets and wrap them up in duct tape.
Sign them up with a music or video club, picking out the types you know they don’t like.
Send an anonymous love letter to their house, telling them you will by stopping by at midnight, but never show up.
Unscrew the light bulbs in their house just enough so they won’t work.
Place syringes around them or in their cars, and then car the cops.
If their pets really annoy you, kill them, then run them over and toss them by the side of road so they look like road kill.
When they are gone use their water to water your lawn.
Leave carrots on their doorstep at night.
Clog up their toilet.
Mumble when you speak to them.
Constantly remind them of bad times.
When doing something illegal, use their name.
Drop Alka-Seltzer into their fish tank.
Plant marijuana by the side of their house.
Go to a party, but give them the wrong directions.
Use lamp oil to kill their lawn in spots.
Tap needle size hole into a dozen eggs and sit them in the sun for a week...egg their house or put them under the seat in their car.
Place ad on Craigslist, selling their car for only $100 dollars.
Send out announcements to their family, saying they are having a wild sex party.
Turn on their oven when they aren’t looking.
Put Saran Wrap over their toilet seat.
Turn their car stereo up all the way before they go somewhere.
Follow them around smiling a lot.
Spread nasty rumors about them.
Make a fake pipe bomb and leave it on the street in front of their house.
Use a ice-pick and punch holes into their car tire.
Ask to use their phone, call 911 and put the phone down, then leave.
If you have cock roaches, catch some of them and release them at their house.
Put a condom fill with Mayo, in their mailbox.
Make several indoor sale signs with their address and place them around town, telling people just to come right in.
Put big chunks of broken glass under their car wheels.
Use their trashcan for all your garbage.
Break into their house while their gone and leave their refrigerator open.
Buy a piece of fish, leave in sun to two days, then put it in their car.
Get their credit card number and charge all you can to it in one day.
Put crayons on the dashboard of their car.
Put a small amount of soap in the end of their toothpaste.

Let’s Cut Our Wrist and Then Burn Down Something.

I’m really fucking high right now, so if this comes off sounding crazier than usual, (or better than usual...hehe) you’ll understand why, but I had to get high. I haven’t been high for a long time now, mostly because I just can’t afford to buy any. It really hasn’t bothered me much not smoking, until the past week or so. I’ve been feeling jittery, nervous, agitated, or high-strung, as my last probation officer put it, from the moment I get up until the moment I force myself to lay down for a few hours of sleep.

I’ve had this feeling off and on over the years. When I was a teen and it would happen, I would often find myself locked up either in jail or in a nut house somewhere. That was one of the reasons I began smoking weed... To help calm me down and relax me from the agitated state that my mind often goes to for no reason. Fuck both of those places! Being locked up when I’m in this state of mind is usually never any good... I’m probably going to cut myself with the first sharp object I find or get into some altercation with those who have me incarcerated.

I’ve been trying everything short of cutting myself, or fucking with law enforcement, to bring myself out of this unsettling mood, and nothing seems to be working. So, when a friend from Tulsa called and asked me to stop by, I didn’t hesitate. I figure it’s better to be high than to commit a crime, injury myself, or do something else stupid.

I was met at the door with a 6-point beer and a hefty blunt, which I lit before I made it back to his bedroom. We sat on his bed, watching the news and discussing the latest information about Michael Jackson dieing. Half-way through the blunt, I began talking about some of my stress from the past week, and before I knew it, my stress was greatly diminished. Shit that I had been stressing over, suddenly didn’t feel like that big of deal any longer.

I FORGOT all my problems.. hehe.

A couple hours later, in possession of a limited amount of marijuana, (in case the stress returns), I cautiously made my way through Borg territory, and safely through the front door to my nicely chilled home. After relaxing for a little while, I managed to get some laundry done, and the house straightened to acceptable standards. Next, I called my little friend, and of course she told me to come right over.

The effects of the blunt still lightly lingered, so when we smoked a bowl, my high kicked right back in to a nice and relaxed state. If only this shit was legal there would probably be a lot less killing in this world. I mean, think about it... For me... If I’m high, I’m engrossed in other thoughts, I’m not angry or thinking about smashing in someone’s face.


If you don’t light up the darkness, you’ll always being living in the shadows.

Once Again, Hell is my Home

Blame it on the heat, or my fucked up mind, but if I would have had my gun today, right now outside there would be several cars with their lights on. I feel like I’m losing my mind. I can’t stand being around certain people, without feeling the need to hurt them. I’ve gone on so many walks trying to gain a different perspective, which has helped some, anyway no one is dead yet. But now I’m having a lot of pain in my knees again, so long walks to relieve the stress will have to put on hold for a little while. For now, I guess it’s back to sitting on my ass, writing again and gaining back all the weight I’ve lost. FUCK!

I guess I will forever be the bad guy (girl).

Once again, hell is my home.

I am a poet of the body and soul;
Just trying to make my mind whole.

I got lost on the journey to find myself;
Like a forgotten book on a shelf.

The pleasures of heaven I write for temptation;
And the pains of hell are my private communication.

Vulgar and rude are prevalent to my writing;
This is why MsPsycho is so enticing.

A tempting snack specifically designed,
To help the mind leisurely unwind.

Push it hard, and run it deep;
Are wonderful words that help us sleep.

But don’t get to close to me,
Because all you’ll ever feel is misery.

There’s always a creature lurking in the distance,
Trying to end my miserable existence.

Let me feel the heat of your breath on my skin;
So I can feel alive once again.

Swirl your tongue around through my mouth,
Rinse it around and spit it out.

Cease my breathing and close my eyes,
So that I might once again unfurl my wings and learn to fly.



Just don’t let me get me;
For sometimes I just can’t see.

Life is a rollercoaster ride.... So ride that son-of-bitch until you puke!!
Go ahead... Piss me off... Blood looks stunning on white carpet!
Let’s cut our wrist and then burn down something.
Dreams come true, but so do nightmares.

Stalking Fun on My Other Blog... hehe

For those who follow my other blog ... http://mspsycho.wordpress.com/ I have posted a new story titled Stalking Can Be Fun. Hope everyone enjoys!!!
XXX ... Warning Adult Stories... XXX


This story, like most all others on my site, is purely a work of fiction from a writers mind that is sometimes not always stable, but she stills enjoys a good naughty story. No harm to any actual person will every occur.
*****************************
She wasn’t following you, but I was. I was watching you as you drove down the highway, turning left and then back right. I see where you’re going. Into the store for a quick drink, and maybe a little chatting with the cute girl standing in line. Then a stop at the smoke shop for a pack of cigarettes to smoke during the times when you are bored out of your mind and waiting on some criminal to break the law. After all, you’ve got to use those shinny new cuffs for something.

Are you watching me? I’m watching you. Are you afraid of me? You might want to be.

Some people will tell that preparation is the key, and they are not totally wrong, still I prefer the spur of the moment decision in picking out a random officer to stalk. Then I’ll watch him for days, learning the times when he is at home, where he goes when he leaves, writing down all the important notes in my spiral bound notebook to study later. Personally, I don’t won’t a defenseless victim… That’s why I target law enforcement… I want someone who will try to fight back.

The most important factor in successful stalking is not getting so close that your target figures out you’re following them. If they figure out you’re following them, they will bolt like a scared little rabbit, ruining in future plans of torture to your victim.

Next follow them home. Once you’ve found out where he lives, you can easily monitor when he is at home and when he is working. Making it easy to find the right time to creep into his house and maybe remove a few personal items to keep as trophies, or just to touch and smell later. Since they are in law enforcement, doing something to draw them away from their house is a easy thing to accomplish.

Just make sure you study the layout of his house while there, that way when you return it won’t be a problem navigating your way around in the dark.

It’s also a lot of fun looking through his windows later… you watch him as he stands beside his bed and removes the keys hanging from the front of his belt, along with the extra set of cuffs hanging in the back. He slowly removes the belt from around his waist that holds his weapon on the right side of his body. He then removes his badge from over his heart and sets it gently on the table near his bed along with the pen he has used that day to write law breakers citations. He removes his radio and then unbuttons the front of his shirt, exposing the bullet proof vest underneath. Carefully he removes the straps and tosses the vest onto a chair sitting in the corner. He stands there in only a black tee-shirt and his pants with the many pockets, each filled with various items needed to fulfill his duty requirements.

I observe my target and establish his routine. I may even find him online so I can learn his habits, what he likes and doesn’t like. I want to know what he knows. Eat where he eats. I want to watch him each day and night as he finishes removing the last few articles of clothing from his body, exposing his fully nude body. Is it then that he feels the most vulnerable? Should I attack him then?

It was all too easy, I thought with a wide smile across my face. He had just gotten off duty and would probably be standing next to his bed getting ready to make love to his wife. As his wife watches him removing his uniform, I was busy cutting the main phone line into the house and then unlocking the side door leading into his garage. Walking silently into the dark garage, I find the door leading into the kitchen. There was no need for a light of any sort because I had been in his house many times before and easily knew where everything was located.

Suddenly there was a flash of a light being turned on, and the sound of a man’s voice broke through the quiet night air.

“Who’s there?” his deep voice shouted from the other side of the room.

I froze for a second, and then looked up to see it was my prey standing there in nothing but his boxers. For a man in his forties, he still looked really good and was in great psychical shape.
_____________________________
For the rest of the story visit: http://mspsycho.wordpress.com/

Don’t Annoy the Crazy Person

Today I hate everything and everybody. People sometimes get on my nerves so bad, that I barely believe that I haven’t gone on a violent killing spree, ending the life of all the worthless, inconsiderate, stupid individuals that care only about themselves and what they can get from others. I’m not going to name names, because I have to deal with these people everyday, but if I do ever snap they are going to be the first ones I open fire on.

Things have been moving along pleasantly enough that I haven’t felt stressed or lost out of my mind since the car accident, until today. Not having enough money to get everyday things done, is my main concern. I often think about robbing a bank or something, but then my reason for robbing the bank would be lost when I have to go on the run. At times, that is the way I think I would like my life to end... Instead of death laying beside me on the couch or in my bed, I want him to push me off and walk with me for my last few breaths as I liberate enough funds for one last celebration. That’s just a psycho thought right?

I am once again having some medical issues that has to be addressed soon. Sometime tomorrow, I have to go the ER because my fucking, stupid insurance won’t pay for urgent care, and my retarded ass doctor’s office never called me back. I’m not going to go into that shit right now, besides this blog is not suppose to be about my daily life, but about the insane thoughts that float freely inside my head. I’m working on a new story, but I haven’t been able to focus on it much since I got a headache on Tuesday, and it still hasn’t gone away, no matter what I take for the pain.

Adios

If it makes you less sad I will die by your hands. You can tell me how vile I already know that I am.

Pain Drives Me

Thoughts of suicide crossed my mind and sadly still lingers hours later. After the accident I can’t help but think if it wasn’t for me, my son would be better off. He would still have his car, I wouldn’t have to face going to court on yet another charge... Failure to yield. How many more times in my life must I be punished?

Most people who have suicidal tendencies, usually always have a suicide plan. A way out when all else fails. The finally option. I’ve had a plan since the first day I began thinking about taking my life at the young age of 12. Over the years, the plan has changed and become more sophisticated and thought out down to the final details of what should be done with my body. I don’t think I want to be buried the traditional way of a body being placed in a casket, instead I want to be cremated. I look at it this way, I don’t want others to ever have to bear the weight that I have carried throughout my life.

Sometimes it feels like each years that passes, my life only gets worse, and I can’t imagine living like this for 40 more years. I think about jumping in front of a semi-truck, swimming down to the bottom of the deepest water until there is no possible way to make it back to the top alive, taking too many pills, cutting a little too deep, etc. And as the finally resort, letting law enforcement do what I am a failure at doing, ending my years of misery.

But then suddenly out the blue things change, and you want to live. You have all these wonderful plans on how things are going to work out one day. All I have to do is distract myself long enough to climb out of the fucking mud. It’s not easy when the mud is clinging to every pore in my body, and there just doesn’t seem to be enough water in the world to wash it all away. Still, I keep trying, wishing there was an alternative to committing suicide, but at times I just can’t see one. I just have these wavering, mixed feelings about death, that I sometimes have a hard time understanding.

My court is tomorrow in Sand Springs, so I probably won’t be sleeping much tonight. I just hope everything rides along without any glitches...lol.

_______________________

Please, Please.... if you are having serious thoughts of suicide and need help, contact a friend, email me (fukitsacoldworld@yahoo.com), take a walk, or call one of the numbers below, before you do anything. I've lived with suicide thoughts for over 30 years, and so can you. You don't have to die. There are alternatives, other distractions, that will keep you from making a decision that you can't reverse.

Suicide hotlines to call for help:
If you or someone you care about is suicidal, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255) or the National Hopeline Network at 1-800-SUICIDE (1-800-784-2433).
These toll-free crisis hotlines offer 24-hour suicide prevention and support. Your call is free and confidential.

Totaled My Son's First Car

When I was a teen living out on my own, I would occasionally drive after I had been drinking or doing drugs, and throughout the years, off and on, I would drive after I had a become legally impaired. But never once did I ever have an accident, not even a close call. I wish to believe no matter what, I’m a safe driver, even though my driving record doesn’t reflect that. Today was totally different... Or maybe more unexpected. I wasn’t drinking, doing drugs, smoking marijuana, or under the influence of anything, I was just momentarily distracted.

I was coming home from my oldest son graduation, proud that my son was able to accomplish what many of my friends and family haven’t been able to do. We were talking about what we were going to do for the rest of the evening after we got home, and some future plans. We were within a couple miles from the house, heading down highway 75, when I looked in the rearview mirror at someone behind me. When I looked back in front, the traffic had come to a complete stop. I hit my brakes and quickly looked to the other lane to see if I could get over, but there was a car in that lane, so I had no other choice but to hit the brakes harder and hope I would stop in time. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stop in time.

It was like a bad dream. The airbags deployed, hitting me hard in the face, chest, and arms. I remember trying to stand, but I felt too much pain in my knees and the rest of my body, so I just sat there until help arrived. For some reason, there are parts of what happened that I have apparently blocked out, because I didn’t remember how I got my seatbelt off until someone told me they took it off. I also don’t recall the fire trucks and the police arriving on the scene.

The officers, ambulance personal, and everyone else who help were really nice. I probably should have went to the hospital and got checked out, but it’s my sons graduation, so I didn’t want to spend hours at the ER. Besides, I think I’m just going to be really sore for a few days. More parts of my body are starting to hurt as time passes. The bruises look really bad and I hurt across most of my body, but the thing that hurts the most is knowing that I destroyed my son’s first car. I’m not sure If I’ll ever forgive myself for that. I was really thankful that everyone else in the car with me was okay, and the young guys that I hit were fine.

It’s almost 2 am, so I better try to lay down and get a little sleep. I have a feeling tomorrow I’m going to feel a lot worse.

Tonight, My Nightmares Feel Real

I’ve had two dreams about going to court in Sand Springs. In the dream, I’m at the courthouse and just as I walk inside I hear the voice of the officer I talked to a few years ago from a pay phone, but I never see his face, I only hear his voice and the voice of other officers suddenly talking. I feel extreme panic and feel the need to escape so I turn to walk outside. When I step outside I meet face to face with badge bunnies husband and he just stares into my face. At that point, I realize I’m dreaming and force myself to wake up. I think I see his face because he is the only one that I have actually met, and I recently saw him while I was in Sand Springs.

The dream and appearing in court are both equally stressing me. I keep thinking about what the officer posted online at Coplouge a few years ago after I talked with him that day...

Quote: If you could spend a day with a board member who would it be?

I'd like a day with Thief...oh yes just one day...we'd work out some things.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~>:view19: Me taking care of Thief. Here thiefy, thiefy, thiefy!!

Guess I really pissed him off. This happened several years ago, so maybe he isn’t even around any more, and if he is, hopefully he has let it go. (yes, I fucking access your board Dunny...get over it... I was just looking for that quote from Baker.)

My court date was for tonight, so I’m glad I pushed it off until after my son graduates, just in case ‘Baker’ decides he still wants to ‘work out some things’. Regardless, I’m going to prepare myself... Put my plan in motion... Take a pill or two... And stay as calm as I possibly can. Maybe I’ll walk out without even seeing any of them.

Feeling Normal

Click to Enlarge...
Flowers at Chandler Park


Right now, I feel .... stable. I'm not experiencing any highs or lows, no intrusive thoughts or weird reactions, just normal. Which is good, so I hope it will last.

I'm having a garage sell tomorrow, which is keeping me really busy. I have to make enough money to pay my gas bill, if not I'm going to have to do some 'fucked up shit' to make sure it doesn't get shut off. Don't really want to go there.

Think I'm going to take a break from being online for a few days and instead work on some writing I've been putting off for a long time. When my mood changes I'm sure I'll be back. It's just right now too many things are going on in my life. My oldest boy will be graduating from high school next Saturday, and my younger one will be out for the summer in just a couple weeks.

When my court date in Sand Springs gets closer, I'm sure I'll be stressing out and will want to write, so until then HOPE EVERYONE HAS A SEXY ASS DAY!!!

Change of Plans

Yesterday sucked and today wasn't much better. I have no energy, all I want to do is eat, drink alcohol, and not expel any form of movement. I don't want to blink, exist, or even think about any of these things. I've been trying to force myself to write, but even that seems to take every ounce of my will.

Thursday, before this mood hit me, I called Sand Springs court and had my court date changed. The 12th of May was a bad timing since my oldest son is graduating on the 15th. I can't believe how fast time has passed. I was just glad it wasn't a problem putting the date off. The lady told me the 26th of May at first, which would have been great, except that's when I changed my Friday's doctor appointment to (I canceled it because... I just didn't want to go).

Shit I hope this mood doesn't last long. If not, I'm going to have to start smoking weed again, or invest in a fucking liquor store. The only good part is I finally slept... 9 hours. Well, I'm bored. Everything seems to bore me. Guess I'll go lay back down.

Stalking Can be Fun?

I got stopped again yesterday. This time for ....hhmmm...following an officer...lol. 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. ...lol. 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.

SERIOUSLY!!!

I'm not stalking you.

I'm just sneaking a peek to make sure you're ok.

OH!!! By the way...Nice Pajamas....hehe

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.

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.

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.

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

FUCK I CAN'T SLEEP!!! I'VE SLEPT MAYBE 10 HOURS IN THE PAST 3 DAYS, AND IT DOESN'T LOOK LIKE I'LL BE SLEEPING AGAIN TONIGHT!

FUCK!!!

PROM IS OVER....YEAH!!!!

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.

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.

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.

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...

hehehe...

Wrote this post...

STILL CAN"T SLEEP!!!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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)
Diabetes
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.

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.

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.

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 up...you 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!!! Wait...it’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.

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.... http://westsuffolkpsych.homestead.com/Violent_Obsessions.html 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.

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 ...so I'll post a couple...just click on them if you want to see a larger view.

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.

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.

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 conversation...lol, not much sleep, and then throw in the mania....WOW!!! Talk about high-strung.

I’m also thinking about my court date...it’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.

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?

Fucking Speeding Again

I’m on my way back from shopping the other day, I looked at the time and realized how late I was running. It didn’t help that it was 6pm and I hadn’t ate yet that day, so my blood sugar was around 60. When it gets to this point I don’t often think clearly and will sometimes act as if I’m a little drunk.

I was almost to my house when I suddenly remembered that I had forgotten to go to the ATM. Instead of turning around on my street, I sped up thinking I would pull a U-turn at the end of the street. Dumb!!! I honestly wasn’t paying attention to my speed, but the Boys in Blue were...fuckers!! The second I saw him I knew I was busted and he wasn’t going to let me go with a warning...still I tried...never hurts to at least try. I’ve just never had any luck with getting just a warning.

I guess I deserved the ticket....he said I was doing 66 in a 35...maybe I was...I really don’t know. Anyway it’s going to cost me $230 fucking dollars to pay the son-of-bitch!!! I’ve yet to decide if I’m going to court or just pay the damn thing. I really don’t have the money...unless I steal it...guess I could do that....maybe...maybe not...but it’s a thought to keep from appearing before the court.

My car was searched after the officer said he smelled marijuana, but I think it was probably the zigzag papers he saw in my billfold when I was giving him my drivers license. I know I hadn’t smoked anything in the car, but it is my sons car, and although I don’t believe he smokes marijuana, most of his friends do. I was just hoping like hell that didn’t find a little stem ___ this long (fuck you RR) to charge me with.

I had an interesting conversation with the an officer while the other one searched my car. But I don’t think I’m going to talk about that...I think I said something’s I probably shouldn’t have...Again that’s what happens when my blood sugar is low...I talk too damn much.

By the time they were done searching the car and me, my blood sugar had rose enough on it’s own. I find this often happens when I’m under stress, my blood sugar naturally goes higher. Which sometimes sucks, when it goes to high.

Enough of this dumb shit...I’m going to get some SoCo and Lime and throw back a few shots tonight.

No Fucking Sleeping

Fuck I can't sleep...I need a drink.

How Long Will it Take Before the Rain Stops?

For those of you who want to know....I finally posted a couple new stories on my sex site. http://mspsycho.wordpress.com/ Enjoy!!

_________________________


On another note....I went to Tony's funeral yesterday. Only 3 of us left from the gang showed up, everyone else except for his wife and mom were total strangers. I felt like none of them knew the real Tony. Not anyway the Tony I spent days with, hidding from the law after we committed a crime, drunk off our asses, high as hell, talking about life for hours after we did all these things. He always talked about when he died he wanted Pink Floyd played at his funeral, but that didn't happen. It was more of a funeral for his Mom. At least he did get to be cremated like he always wanted to be.

Enough of this before I start crying. I haven't cried yet, and I don't think I want to, even though this breaks my heart for his family.

After the services I couldn't help but not think about how much time I could possible have left in my life. It can't be much more. I already feel like I wasn't suppose to live this long. This is why I don't go to chruch, because the preacher is always talking about life beyond this life and how it's just right around the corner waiting to creep up on you like a cop trying to bust you for drugs. Life could end at any breath. I guess I just don't like the ideal of waiting around wondering when my last breath will come.

Rest in peace my good friend, you will be forever missed.
This one is for you my friend...

The Death of a Friend

I finally got the news that my friend, since 1984 died yesterday morning at the young age of 40. He left behind a loving wife, and two beautiful girls, that will forever be on my mind. His body is going to be cremated, which is what he always wanted to have done. I should find out Sunday when services will be held, but most likely it will be Monday or Tuesday evening. Right now his body is still in Kansas and arrangements haven’t been completed on how to bring him back across state line.

I hate funerals, especially when it’s one of the gang members I hung out with back then. There are 4 down now, (that I’m aware of) that didn’t make it to 41. I have to wonder what makes me so special that I get to live?

Gonna make this short...it’s Friday night and I’m going to have a few drinks or two or three. ....maybe more.

Hey, Is Anyone Up There?

Dear God,

What ever happened to people supposedly being equal in your all seeing eyes? I mean you could've warned me about the accident. You know, a simple "Look out T old friend," would've done the trick, and made me turn my head, just in time to make a neat side step out of harms way. But oh no, you didn't did you? Instead you let it happen to me. Probably stood by, just watching as things went from bad to worse.

Have you any idea how much pain I'm in? Do you even give a damn? You might understand how I have great doubts about you even being up there, and even further doubts about how I thought I’d found you to begin with.

So once again as I endure new levels of unwanted, pain, I grit my teeth, and ask myself once again, where are you? Yes you God, during my hour of greatest need? Is it all because you feel you have a more important agenda? A list of high priority cases, perhaps? And if this be so, then does this rightfully warrant your ignorance to my anguished cries? I mean let's face it God you've hardly ever answered a single prayer since that one time.

Perhaps indeed, my problems simply appear petty in the great scheme of things? Or is it simply a fact that my good karma credit has finally expired? Just tell me the cold hard truth. And God, I suppose that's why if I'd have had a choice as egg and sperm, I would never have asked to be been born into this world. But I guess that’s a little too late now.

Just no more bad shit! Please! You know God, I just wanted to find one person who understood. I'm still searching to this day.

To tell you the truth the only reason I've written to you, is so I could find at least one person who would stop my plan. So speak to me soon. Or else I might just be happy with wherever the devil may take me.

Trying Not to Hear What is Coming in so Loud

Today my emotions are all over the board. I’m going from being in a state of full blown mania, to a point of crashing down so low in the ground, that the best shovel in the world couldn’t help me dig my way out. The thing is, I knew it was coming, but I still couldn’t stop the wave. Memories from my fucked up past comes sweeping in like a F-5 tornado, swirling around, slamming pieces of debris in every direction. To calm myself, and maybe prevent more cutting, I’ve decided to return to writing again as a way to quiet my mind.

For those who do not wish to read about torture, cruel acts, or any other random acts of violence that my mind may think about in the next couple hours, then I suggest you leave this site.

I want revenge, plain and simple revenge.

My mind was obsessed with the possibilities of revenge.

I sat quietly alone in the car, looking in the direction of the place I knew he would have to appear...his job. It’s the easiest way to track a person. Find out where they work, then just follow them.

I finished smoking and flipped the remains out the window into the heavy breeze, spinning it around outside my car. I took notice of the rustling leaves that spiraled around in a circle near the curb. My eyes followed as a stray leaf broke free and wondered off in the direction of the police department. My eyes followed every twist and curve as it neared my target.

I could feel the blood rushing through my veins as the leaf came to a stop when an officer stepped outside. I smiled lightly, breathing in the essence of life that surrounded him, deep into my lungs.

I had been watching him for a long time, and fantasized many times about what I would do to him if I had the opportunity. I was looking at him like an object, not a life form like me, put a toy to be played with and used completely.

He was perfect with his short cut black hair, brown eyes, dimpled cheeks, and nice muscular built body. I was drawn towards him since the first day I saw him at the park. I felt it was fate that had brought us together and fate alone that would decide the outcome of our next meeting.

I watched him from Second and Broadway as he sat down in the his car and placed a seatbelt across his chest. I started my car as he began backing out, and then I watched him as he turned left at the light and drove right in front of me. I quickly dropped in behind him and began my pursuit, my body tingling with adrenaline.

I relentlessly followed behind him as he turned left on Main St and then right to W 2nd St. At the light he turned left to 97 going under the overpass and pulled into a Quik-Trip located on the corner in front of Wal-Mart. I followed behind him as he made his way inside. I could smell the sweet fragrance of his cologne as his body moved through the air directly in front of me. I inhaled it deeply, programming the smell permanently into my mind. We reached for a small drink cup at the same moment and our hands briefly touched, sending shock waves of adrenaline throughout my body. Was it destiny or fate?

It wasn’t until we were getting into our cars and backing out that he looked directly at me, locking eyes for a longer than usually glance. I could tell that he thought I looked familiar, but he just couldn’t quite figure out who I was at that moment. Fear that I had been caught before I was ready, sent me in the opposite direction.

The next day, I waited until his shift was almost over before I began my pursuit of following him to his home. I drove past as I watched him pull his police cruiser into his driveway. I continued on straight, looking into my rearview mirror as he stepped his huge 6’3” body out of the small confines of the drivers seat. I turned around on the next block and drove back in front of his house looking for one last glance or the opportunity to put my plan in motion.

I knew he was married for the second time, and had a couple kids, but they were nothing but a momentary thought. After all, in the end they would be okay and be able move on with their lives. She knew the risk of being with a police officer when she first began sneaking around with him while he was still married to his first wife.

It was several hours into darkness on late February eve, when I got up enough nerve to park my car just a couple hundred feet from his front door. I stepped outside, feeling the heartbeat of the earth beneath my feet. Power was flowing into me as I was drawn nearer to his essence, his life force. I could smell the coolness of the earth as I stood near a window and peered with contempt of danger. I smiled slowly as I stood near the window and reached out to run my fingertips lightly over the glassy surface. My fingertips tingled with the feeling of life under them, my body reacting to the powerful flow of adrenaline, I reached down the front of my jeans with my left hand and cupped my moist mound.

I could see him standing in the middle of the room, talking on the phone as I silently watched his lips moving to words I could not understand. His graceful movements subdue my own shaky nerves as I watch him remove his shirt. His stomach muscles were not taught but rather pudgy, as if he has enjoyed a few too many beers in his lifetime. I find it sexy for men around 40 to have this kind of look, and it sent shivers down my spine.

My left index finger separated my damp opening and began massaging in clockwise direction. I giggled lightly thinking about how I would look like a fool if someone were to pass by and see me standing there. At the moment I didn’t care, I was more into the fantasy of what I could be doing to his body after I forced him at gunpoint into the back seat of my SVU.

I would handcuff his wrists behind his back, (using his own set of cuffs of course), gag him with a thick washcloth, and then place a black hood over his face. I would then take my helpless, whimpering victim to a cabin deep in the woods, where no sound could be heard for miles.

Inside the cabin I pull off the hood and remove the gag from his mouth. After all, there is no need to fear anyone being able to hear the screams so far out in the country.

He looks around confused and disoriented, but quickly recovers and tries rushing his handcuffed body in my direction. I’m quickly able to knock him off his feet and send him falling to the floor with a loud thump.

I maneuver over his body and sit across his mid-section, “You’re fucked my friend!” I say with a little giggle. Then I slap him viciously across the face, leaving a dark red handprint across his right cheek. With a savage grin on my face, I begin punching him in the face, chest and belly, forcing him the wince in a little pain.

He was big and powerful, but my blows took some of the fight out of him. Keeping him handcuffed I cut free his shirt, pulled down his jeans, and then removed his boxers, leaving him fully exposed to my fists. I worked him over until my knuckles began to bleed and the blood from his face began to mix with mine.

When he beg me to stop, I stepped back and began to admire the nakedness of my victim. He looked luscious, with his limp cock laying to the side of his leg. I couldn’t stop myself from taking him fully into my mouth. Nature took over and after several minutes his cock began to grow. I wanted to jam his big cock deep down my throat, but first I wanted him to feel pain. There would be no more pleasure for him that day.

I walked across the old creaky floor and stood before my victim. I pulled a large hunting knife out and touched the tip to his chest.

“You will call me Tayla,” I whispered softly. “And you will treat people like me with respect from now on. Do you fucking understand?”

He nodded, and said he was sorry.

“You know I could easily kill you,” I said to him. “No one knows where we are.”

“No, please, no,” I have a family he pleaded.

“No - what - you pig? I said pressing the tip of the knife into his firm chest muscle near his heart.

His eyes opened wide at the sensation of the cold blade pressing into his flesh, bringing a small amount of blood oozing to the surface.

“I’m sorry Tayla. Please don’t kill me,” he begged.

“That’s it. Be a nice officer. Not some asshole cunt, that thinks he’s better than the rest of the world.”

“Okay Tayla, just take the knife away from my chest.”

I moved the knife away from his new wound, but held it firmly in my hand. “You don’t remember me, do you asshole?” I asked gripping the knife a little tighter in my hand.

“No Tayla, I don’t...”

“Of course you don’t,” I said placing the knife back against his skin. “Pretty little pigs like you look right past people like me. I’m not pretty enough, smart enough, or thin enough for you. You treat me as if I’m a nobody. A worthless piece of shit that should only be taken out back and shot. You think you’re too good to follow the same rules that I have to follow. I’m nothing to you but dirt under your fingernail that you can’t get rid of.”

I stuck the knife into his chest deep enough to make him let out a loud ear piercing scream. I continued to stare into his eyes at his pain, until his eyes locked with mine, then I had to look away. Even handcuffed, he had power over me, and I wanted to take that power away from him.

“You’re nothing but a fucking piece of shit, you asshole,” I screamed at him and began slamming my fist into his body. While he shrieked in agony, I thought about taking the knife and driving it deep into his belly and splitting him open. “I want you to remember me, and everything that has happened today, so that you will never forget what trauma does to a person. They are never normal again. You can’t just forget and move on. Every time you think you’re okay, someone could be lurking around some corner ready to do you harm. It never fucking goes away!!" I screamed loudly.

I took a deep breathe and looked long into his eyes. I knew I didn't want to kill him, but I did want him to feel pain. I put my hands around his neck and began squeezing him enough that it was uncomfortable. I leaned down and whispered into his ear, "I’m not going to kill you this time, but I’ll be watching you."


My thoughts were running wild as I stood rubbing my wet cunt outside his house, thinking about my fantasy to kidnap the officer. I wanted to watch him struggle to breathe. The thought sent me over the edge and my insides began to erupt. Hot warm juices began to flow. I pulled out my fingers and licked the sweetness from my fingertips. I was out of breath, but returning to sanity when lights from a car turned down the street.

The coolness of the night air felt like ocean waves caressing my body. I felt alive! I quickly retreated to my car, and continue my quest to find another officer to kidnap for my ultimate fantasy.