tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49338036705051315732024-03-04T23:54:02.333-05:00This is my life, and it's ending one minute at a time.Rants and musings of a slightly bipolar, usually fascinating, almost 30-something.If I told you that I'd have to Kill youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04186427627162681831noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4933803670505131573.post-23461323707380020392014-03-27T00:10:00.001-04:002014-03-27T00:39:56.336-04:00Not about to beThis isn't going to be the world's greatest novella. This is a story about me, how I've become an alcoholic and how, by the time I'm done writing, maybe I can be something else.I never let go of horrid shit I've seen or imagined. I highly recommend not loving addicts or reading their autopsies when they die. It's hard enough to lose someone close to you without knowing how many ounces If I told you that I'd have to Kill youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04186427627162681831noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4933803670505131573.post-73281618058416811162013-12-08T08:23:00.001-05:002013-12-08T08:23:37.092-05:00No more words. Feeling a bit cutty. Have a great day; Thanks for all the fish!!!!If I told you that I'd have to Kill youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04186427627162681831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4933803670505131573.post-79004478626480223302012-08-22T16:42:00.002-04:002012-08-22T18:36:40.755-04:00On Why I'm CoolI spoke with my therapist (the good one) a couple days ago. Seeing how I haven't seen her in nearly a year, most of the time was spent filling her in on what's changed and what's wrong.
I got married. Wonder boy is kicking ass in school and turning into a REALLY great guy though he's far too mature for his age. My mother died. We've not been able to achieve pregnancy and my uterusIf I told you that I'd have to Kill youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04186427627162681831noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4933803670505131573.post-71483333823224563622012-08-12T16:55:00.000-04:002012-08-14T12:16:41.298-04:00Got a bad feelingSlept in the back yard on a few blankets last night so I could see the meteor shower and, without thinking, wished I would die on the longest, clearest one. Then I wished my son would have a much happier life than mine and that he'd be okay if anything happened to me. I cried this morning because I woke up and none of it was a dream. I can't believe it's come to this. I'm losing the warIf I told you that I'd have to Kill youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04186427627162681831noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4933803670505131573.post-2206845212058870662012-08-11T09:03:00.001-04:002012-08-11T09:03:27.028-04:00How do you like them apples?If I told you that I'd have to Kill youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04186427627162681831noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4933803670505131573.post-72510738922724321902012-07-31T20:33:00.000-04:002012-08-02T13:26:08.616-04:00Criminal Sexual ConductI sat spinning scissors around my finger on the kitchen table. I couldn't look up. I saw only the brown uniform and badges across from me. No face. This faceless man had asked me questions I couldn't answer. My face got hot and throat froze. In my left corner a pair of holed jeans stood, waiting.
Less than an hour before, when I came home from school, these holy jeans had the face of my father If I told you that I'd have to Kill youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04186427627162681831noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4933803670505131573.post-24258450208401270062012-07-28T22:18:00.001-04:002012-07-28T22:20:00.632-04:00Heads upOne of these days I'm gonna post some happy shit on here. Maybe. ;)
I've just been working through so much I needed to let out some of the rotten. There seems to be a lot of that lately.
If I told you that I'd have to Kill youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04186427627162681831noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4933803670505131573.post-32957099604202862152012-07-28T14:15:00.001-04:002012-07-28T14:19:09.189-04:00Bipolar's Little Sister - Part IIAs soon as the sun came up, I sent my mother this text. (She showed it to me two weeks before she died. I guess she kept it on her phone as some sort of memento.)
"Tried to kill myself last night. I might need to go to the hospital."
She called right away, talked to me then called my sister. I was sitting on my car smoking a cigarette when my sister, we'll call her Keira (as in K. KnightleyIf I told you that I'd have to Kill youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04186427627162681831noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4933803670505131573.post-65325292241786317432012-07-24T13:27:00.000-04:002012-08-14T12:20:58.681-04:00Until it's not
After weeks of psyching myself out over having to see a psychiatrist, a thing I've managed to avoid for over two years, I woke up today and begrudgingly got out of bed. I put on the new, bright yellow shiny-happy, literally smiley pair of underwear I bought just yesterday in an attempt to cheer myself up. They're out of character, but then I wish I was too. They were meant to be some sort If I told you that I'd have to Kill youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04186427627162681831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4933803670505131573.post-50319051978376765542012-07-19T14:05:00.000-04:002012-07-28T14:06:46.354-04:00Bipolar's Little Sister - Part 1
The first time I took Wellbutrin, I was 19 and was trying to quit smoking. I found myself full of energy, working out like crazy, getting homework done early and not sleeping very much. Not very much at all, actually. One night I realized I'd been up for just about two days and had painted everything I could find red. It was my favorite color. I blame it on Amelie. This went on for a short If I told you that I'd have to Kill youhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04186427627162681831noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4933803670505131573.post-19363702225967418612012-07-10T16:13:00.002-04:002012-07-11T12:55:28.302-04:00The Ride Home(Sunday)
Almost home from from a nice little road trip with my husband, aka "Herbie the Pervie". We stopped half way to spend a night with my dearest grandparents in their summer home. I love seeing them there instead of their other home because I don't have a million friends to visit while being in the vicinity. Though I adore all of my friends, my grandparents get the attention they deserve Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4933803670505131573.post-4370439991674254942012-07-09T18:47:00.001-04:002012-07-09T18:54:31.734-04:00KEEP OUT OF REACH OF CHILDRENI'm no sure what the law is in your state but mine just reversed the helmet law and suddenly 75% of the bikers I see are organ donors in waiting or drooling TBI patients to be. I've also heard recently that someone is lobbying to have warning labels taken off products. I'd have to look that up to say more we're on the road and my signal is shite. And I'm tired so fuck that.
Seems like the Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4933803670505131573.post-49167648170536580792012-07-05T23:55:00.003-04:002012-07-05T23:55:54.718-04:00This just about sums it up.The lamictal isn't working. I feel like shit. And by "I feel like shit", I mean "I still wish I would just die" today. It's like trying to quit smoking after so many relapses. Why fight SO HARD to come back up if I know I'm gonna crash again? I'm supposed to meet my best friend since 1st grade in two hours and her beautiful baby and husband for lunch. I don't want to. It's too much effort an I Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4933803670505131573.post-70512113110816230912012-07-03T18:21:00.001-04:002012-07-03T18:23:11.073-04:00Shit the bedDue to my genius idea of labeling posts, they are all out of order.
And this is how I feel about that. The first few seconds, anyway.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4933803670505131573.post-60277996216782217052012-07-03T17:56:00.001-04:002012-07-03T18:24:59.141-04:00Open WoundsToday at 3pm I finished the last of my neuropsychiatric evalution (read: guinea pig water boarding). After the math questions, spelling tests, arranging blocks, counting change, "repeat after me, in alphanumeric order, then backwards" mind-boggling exercises spanning over three sessions - 3-4 hours each - was a series of questions about life history and experiences. Where have I Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4933803670505131573.post-41186144184160330622012-07-01T22:20:00.002-04:002012-07-03T18:27:00.433-04:00To Say the Least
"I'm heavy handed
To say the least
My mother thinks
I'll be an awful clutcher
'Cause I spill things from stirring 'em too quickly
I'm far too loud
It's like, as soon as I've got an opinion
It just has to come out
I laugh at stupid things
Just 'cause they tickle me"
I'm in crisis.
I've been telling my docs for over three weeks I'm depressed and need to get back on Lamictal but one doc Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4933803670505131573.post-79098149215912223672012-06-30T18:09:00.000-04:002012-07-28T14:07:29.474-04:00"Dear mum, couldn't stand the solitude any longer. Gone off to see the world. Don't be worried, I'll be back soon. Love Bilbo xxx"This was the note supposedly left in the first record of a garden gnome gone missing. I didn't realize this idea has been around since the time I was born; seems fitting. I'm thinking of leaving it myself and busting out of here but don't know where I'd go and it's hard to take a 6 year-old boy around the world when he should be in school. Twelve years and it's on!
I'd loveUnknownnoreply@blogger.com2