Flash Fiction Challenge

The scissors are never sharp enough. The hair comes off in short clumps, chunks really. Once there were clippers, with an electrical buzz-buzz, to do the job. They are no more. Many things are no more. Memories. Most of those I don’t miss. I chose to discard them. To shove them away. The first two mares of the bloodline. Lost to disease. Only the third, youngest, remains. Youngest is a strange way to define her now. She has long since reached her prime, as have I. We have both lost too much, and mellowed from our mutual mania.

http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2011/11/18/11729/

I'm tired of being in the closet for all of you. Why should I? Because what I am makes you uncomfortable? Well good. I hope it does. I hope it makes you cringe. What I am hurts me. In and out. Do you have any idea what this is like? To have a disease that basically is trying to kill you? To have half of your brain trying to off you while the other half is trying to save you? It feels like being a sick hamster. And I know that makes no sense. Because I make no sense. This makes no sense. The misery of this stupid pointless misery makes no sense. And you all want me to be normal. Well fuck you. Because that just makes it so much worse. So much worse to try to hide it under the cloth of normal while there is some strange holy war being waged in the tiny cage of my skull. And no will ever win. Sometimes the one side will retreat and an uneasy peace will settle, but it doesn't last. See? Even the slight stability isn't really good. It's just a precursor to another downward slide. This disease sucks and I didn't ask for it. So take your expectations and shove them. I say NO.

The Heritage Cook’s Apple Crisp

Decided today that I needed to attempt baking again. Last time I tried brownies from scratch and it went badly. (We don't really need to talk about that.) Found a recipe that looked tasty and

simple (see link below) and dove in. Okay, more like dipped my toes slowly bit by tiny bit. Finally did get it made. Not sure my product is as tasty as the original but it is edible. I'm proud!

http://thenovicehousewife.word

press.com/2011/09/12/an-apple-a-day-the-heritage-cooks-apple-crisp-for-september-src/

Drag show....

Last night I attended my first drag show. Which I ended up not actually seeing any of. I know that makes no sense. I went, paid the cover, met up with a friend. The friend, M.H., is someone that I haven't seen in many years and used to rodeo with. We met up at the club, a strip club, which is where the show was being held. The beginning of the evening went well, a drink, a shot, some strippers. Really surprised to see that some of the strippers were not actually in that great of shape. Some of them had more cellulite than I do! Just before the amateur drag show was about to start, M.H. and I headed out for a smoke. Upon returning to our table she suddenly started vomiting. Profusely. We all slipped out the back door and decided to go elsewhere. Guess I still need to attend a drag show! The night continued in crazy and random ways, which included cops, more bars, and lots of Russian men. One of whom was nice enough to play air hockey and pinball with me. I won air hockey! Which considering I was quite drunk and have only played a couple of times back when I was a teen, I am pleased about. It was a good night and I have to admit that reviving attention non-stressful attention from men I'm not interested in was also nice. Sometimes I just want things to be easy and this was.

Cloud Study

Clouds around 4pm Mountain Time

I'm starting to get you, and I don't like it

So I see that we aren't talking again this morning. Talking being a relative term since you rarely talk to me. Texting or chatting is more your style. I guess this means that you're sober again and you don't currently want or need anything from me. I despise us right now. I despise you for being such an ass and myself for letting you stick around in my life and be this way. I was proud of me last night. I admit it, I wanted to hang out. But not in the lame manner you were offering. Not like some off to the side groupie that just happens to be there. I'm better than that. Sleeping was good for me. And when I woke up and there was a text from you, I guess I felt a little bit better. Like maybe you regretted not being nicer to me. But now, now I just feel crummy about you again. Because I know you're awake. I left you a facebook message. And I noticed when you logged on, and logged off, without talking to me. So what? Do you even remember texting me last night? Or is that just one more of those lost drunken things? Honestly, maybe I'm glad. I know you are totally wrong for me. I know if you ever made an effort to be part of my life you would probably stress my stability and that would be bad. So maybe this behavior is really a good thing. I know I'm confused, but every time you behave like the person I don't like, I want you out of my life a little more. It doesn't stay that way, but in time I think you won't manage to come back. And I will be glad.

Ativan and Forest Fires

Every morning lately has been a combo of cranky mood and grogginess. Which is odd for me because life right now allows me to wake up naturally and do my own thing, at least for the most part. However, I haven't been well lately, which has led to the necessity of the bedtime Ativan. This not being well includes shortened sleep, usually only until about one a.m. when I began restlessly tossing and turning. Also, I've been crying almost daily. For no good reason. Just randomly, like when leaving the grocery store or riding Loca. Or listening to music or petting the cat or driving or just about any other typical thing that shouldn't make people cry. So the Ativan, especially since I don't have another doctor appointment until November, which is quite awhile away.

Along with the chemical additives, the forest fires have started up around here again. The sky has been filled with smoke and hazy for weeks now. Waking up this morning, it took a full pot of coffee (okay, its a small coffee maker) and half a carton of orange juice to flush the groggy feeling. Also, almost four hours of wakefulness. Ugh. Not a fan. I prefer feeling good right when I wake up, but I guess everyone else does to... so that isn't anything crazy.

Forms, Forms, Forms

Ugh! So many forms to fill out and I just cannot handle it. I took care of all of my student loans except one. All of them except one had easy deferment forms. The one I haven't dealt with yet? Crazy paperwork! The paperwork requires paperwork. They want me to prove all of my income and spending. I don't have any income! I don't have a job. I'm not looking for a job. Why, you ask? Because jobs have forms! Do I have government assistance? No, no not yet. Why, you might as yet again? Because government assistance has forms! Cannot handle forms!!! Cannot do it. They literally make me nauseous. I sit down, tell myself that this time I will finish the paperwork. I never do. Every time I get sick. I am weeks, no months, behind on my loan deferment paperwork. The university keeps sending me those strict emails telling me that I have not been paying. I know I have to deal with this but I can't. I just can't make myself fill out the paperwork. Its the same with disability paperwork. I know its a long process. Two years or so and the only way to get through it is to get started. I just can't. I don't know what I'm so afraid of.

There was joy

It wasn't all bad. Stop thinking that. There were good things. Us sitting on the carpet, drinking that red wine that I spilled everywhere (oops), playing Scrabble or Yahtzee, listening to Nickleback. It's a good memory, one I'm hanging on to. The first time I played Lady Gaga for you, and danced, because I was drinking. You laughed. Our first kiss and the way you shook when you touched me. I've never felt before or since that my presence stunned someone so much. Hiking in winter... I think you can remember that one. When we were house-sitting and both so sick, you took such good care of me. Any of those times sitting on the couch eating pizza watching random TV shows after one of my many meltdowns because I needed the quiet time badly. Three Bears sandwiches on the park bench. Chicken bacon ranch in the sunshine. Do you remember? It wasn't all bad.

Stop

Stop. Stop hurting me. Just stop. What do you want me to do? I'll do it. You want me to come back to Washington? I will. We will be miserable. We were miserable. I hated it and so did you. But I would do it again. Just stop hurting me. Is that what you want? You want me to come back? Say the word. I will.

You want me to be your exclusive, untouched three-inch fairy? I will. Say it. Just stop hurting my heart. Why can't you see? I live for you, breathe for you. I call everyday, more than once. I still love you. I'm still in love.

I'm happy here. My soul is here. But my heart is in pieces and there are more of them everyday. What do you want from me?

Picture from ~ http://www.desicomments.com/hearts/broken-heart-2/

I'm still in love with you

Yeah, i know. We broke up. It was my idea. I hooked up with someone else. That I continue to talk about. That I continue to text, and see. I don't know what else to do. I'm still in love with you. I still want our happy ending. I still want marriage and forever. I don't know what else to do.

I can't come back. We were so miserable together there. I need to be here, doing what I'm doing. This place, this is my place. I don't know where else to be complete. I'm not complete without you though.

Moron

I can't decide who I think is dumber: You or Me. You for the ridiculous games you play or me for going along with them endlessly. For knowing that when you text me sometime today, I will answer. When you get around to wanting me again, I will let you. What's wrong with me? What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? Why can't you just stop being such an ass. I like you. There, I said it. I don't know why. There doesn't seem to be one single good or even slightly rational reason to like you. Except... You hold me when I cry. You don't let me go. You keep coming back. Persistence that isn't mine at this stage stuns me. You're still an ass.

Colombiana

Went to see the movie Colombiana last night. Wasn't bad, wasn't great. Revenge movie with a female protagonist. Zoe Saldana is the actress with the understated, but incredibly hot Michael Vartan as the love interest. If they had secured a happy ending together, instead of just a maybe someday, I would have been pleased. I know its not realistic. I'm sure she disappeared into the sunset and they never got together again. But I can't think like that. I need happy endings. The "point" of the movie, if you will, was for her to kill the people who were responsible for the deaths of her parents. Which she achieved. However, prior to her achieving this, those same people killed the rest of her family. The ending of her as the lonely assassin just doesn't work for me. Especially since we just had the same ending in Salt with Angelina Jolie. Why can't movies with women ever have them get revenge and then find happiness too? Or just realize that maybe revenge isn't everything? And find happiness... Yes, I just wanted a happy ending.

WTF

Why do you fuck with crazy women? Why can't you just leave us alone? Aren't there any sane girls out there for you to mess with? Seriously, I have enough problems without you playing mind games with me. I could handle casual if it stayed casual. I could be friends, if we were just friends. Stop changing the rules. Stop playing least in sight and then coming back around just when I make up my mind that I've had enough. You suck. You really, really suck. I accepted that I wasn't awesome, that I meant nothing. Then you held my hand in the bar and I was caught off guard. What the hell. No one does that. People might see. Kissing me. Its wrong. You make me be quiet when your ex calls but you kiss me in public. What the Hell? I don't get it and I want to understand. Stop messing with my head. Go away and stay away. Or come back and be consistent. Be an ass. I can handle that. Be nice. I don't get it. Just be one thing and stop confusing me. This game doesn't work.

August again

The nightmares have returned. Not the ones that never really go away. The others. The ones that find me being forced to watch in horror as my best friend is fed to a carnivorous plant. Because of something I did. Or my dream alter ego did. I never look like me in dreams. Strangely enough I usually look small and male, and helpless. No idea what this means. The more graphic the nightmares become the worse the month becomes. August has always been my most maniac month. I had thought that maybe this year I wouldn't have the normal problems. There is only one week left. But no I feel that I breathed too soon. With the dreams I'm also waking often. Checking the time again and again. Waiting anxiously for the proper time to get up, though when it arrives I'm still exhausted. I don't want to be sick. Don't want this. The irrational, odd behavior that comes with it. Now is not a good time. I know there is no good time, but now is... No worse than any other. I just don't want this. I want stability. Need it.

Crunch Me

Tell me another lie/Anything

The first ones weren’t big enough/ Of course, I believed didn’t I

Holding my breath with hope watching you cautiously a small child offered a forbidden treat

yeah, yeah come back and do it again lie to me at least its got good flavor it makes the heart beat before the pain takes over

I thought you were different but you’re not/ I’m just another moment to you

fritos

its fun touch your tongue to me then crush me under your feet

not again I’m sick of the feeling I heard you the first time I’m not good enough not awesome enough what you think I didn’t already know

story of my life foretold/ nothing more than a broodmare but what is a broodmare who wont have a brood

worthless no damn good no damn good nothing else there

bedroom games empty time finish it and let me go/ oh right you already did missing an explanation guess I don’t need one

do not pass go/ fucking without dating straight to jail you’re a whore she said

Crush me I’ll be touch me taste me its one more game roll my dice tonight

I’m desperate touch me touch me I did it for you lies- I did it for me you couldn’t understand no one touches me I thought you would be different

damn feels like dying again/ sometimes it seems the only way to kill this feeling is to kill me

Yeah I’m still here Breaking glass moments breaking apart in my chest

What do you know

You could never live my life Touch the abuse it comes and goes I always go back don’t know anything else think I need it how fucked up does that make me

Know I need my Crazy, sweet baby, the love hold me close run me through the wind take my tears I’ll go back for that if nothing else

I wanted you wanted you to be different so bad

Crunch me Ill never be nothing But a moment lost in time

And you

I cant remember Feel I should Every time you touch me Something hangs in the mind Heart calls to me Come back I can’t The past is my destruction The future as well

Crunch me There will be no more touches You let me go Can’t figure why Moments in time Pass by

Crunch me Refuse me Hurt me hate me

Something anything Just don’t leave me in this painful silence that I can’t comprehend can’t control

Hurt me Hurt me Hurt me so I can hurt me Find my center my control Whatever you give me, I can give greater

But not this

Not this silence

I have no silence Its agony its swamps me like jam smears me in sticky misery

Release me

Crunch me touch me taste me hate me hurt me

Just don’t give me silence

~ L.S.

Two things

Today I did two things that I haven't done in a while. I rode a horse and I voluntarily interacted with my father.

I haven't ridden since just before my accident, back at the beginning of March. Four long months without the pleasures of equine relaxation. Today I couldn't wait any longer. I rode L.L. or the Lazy Lineback. We rode for 30 minutes in the front pasture, mostly at a walk with a small amount of trotting. It felt good to be back in the saddle. (Hello cliche!) Here is L.L. looking annoyed that she has had to work so hard for such a long time!

The other thing about today was seeing Dad. My youngest sister wanted to invite him to her 8th grade promotion (this Thursday) and so I agreed to pass on the date and time. We have spoken since October of 2010. It has been good to be away from him. He aggravates my illness with his illness and his denial. Mostly he just makes me miserable. Today was passable though. As always the visit lasted far longer than it should have. Five hours went by before I escaped again. Seeing my father is taking a detour from sanity and dropping in to Crazyland. You know where you're going from the start but you still have no idea how to get out.

The Black Eyed Peas - Just Can't Get Enough

The song I am currently obsessing over since the Billboard award show!

Nap Camp

Lousy with sunshine

You and Me

Disaster when you leave

Disappointment is a stiletto

Sinking in, searing

Eroding any attempt of Spirit to sneak by

Tears torn from behind angry eyelids

I might dissolve

Become a sticky snuffling mess

A puddle of stark solitude

Begging for your complete return

Why do you leave me?

It must be essential/absolute/necessary

For anything less…

I would slash myself into pieces and rearrange until

Until I couldn’t care anymore

You’re my fancy, my only light

So then

When you are gone

Stay with your soul in my soul

Wherever your body goes Wherever you are

And I will hold you close

L.S.

Keep Trying

Discovery is the truth

the journey

Past is but a hell

Scars, Stains, burst and burned out Stars]

Given

Created

And Someday… if you’re charmed

Empowerment

Knowing self as friend

Companion voice

Claimed only by You

Used by no one else

There is joy in permission

given, granted, gained

Waiting for change

Bodies flourish

within without worry

I am only one

Like Elizabeth

loved, revered

Alone

Even this body eventually grows cold

But my soul?

It continues

In my road, my words

And

In the bones to come.

“Do You Have Any Advice For Those of Us Just Starting Out?" Ron Koertge

Give up sitting dutifully at your desk. Leave
your house or apartment. Go out into the world.

It's all right to carry a notebook but a cheap
one is best, with pages the color of weak tea
and on the front a kitten or a space ship.

Avoid any enclosed space where more than
three people are wearing turtlenecks. Beware
any snow-covered chalet with deer tracks
across the muffled tennis courts.

Not surprisingly, libraries are a good place to write.
And the perfect place in a library is near an aisle
where a child a year or two old is playing as his
mother browses the ranks of the dead.

Often he will pull books from the bottom shelf.
The title, the author's name, the brooding photo
on the flap mean nothing. Red book on black, gray
book on brown, he builds a tower. And the higher
it gets, the wider he grins.

You who asked for advice, listen: When the tower
falls, be like that child. Laugh so loud everybody
in the world frowns and says, "Shhhh."

Then start again.

Vertigo by Anne Stevens

Mind led body

to the edge of the precipice.

They stared in desire

at the naked abyss.

If you love me, said mind,

take that step into silence.

If you love me, said body,

turn and exist.

A group of girls from Minnesota or black mascara by Maureen Owen

Not trees trace so just kids we hung slim buckets of chokecherries from our wrists in neighboring galaxies Giant Star Factories take control composed of cold hydrogen gas and dust 7,000 light years from earth slender-toed geckos step onto the moon On the road between 2 baptisms and a shower they rang to say shallow water the mouths drop open not where you stand but how long you can stand standing there in constant hypothesis the trees are passersby mercurial damp light flat orange moon velvet navy-blue sky fire berries from here we see the beautifully attired drive tough Ford pickups the oncoming organizing principle brushed out the dancers take turns leaping over the bonfire into Qué pasa USA? haircuts in London are really pretty backward London—you are definitely not going to have a manicure there! in LA toes must match the hands or else just don’t leave the house in NY it’s more brunette Outside a refrigerator floats in the blackness shiny amid sharp stars & the turtle who holds up the world holds up the world

Ode by Arthur O’Shaughnessy [1844-1881]

We are the music-makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams;
World-losers and world-forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams:
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems

With wonderful deathless ditties
We build up the world’s great cities.
And out of a fabulous story
We fashion art empire’s glory:
One man with a dream, at pleasure,
Shall go forth and conquer a crown;
And three with a new song’s measure
Can trample in empire down.

We, in the ages lying
In the buried past of the earth.
Built Nineveh with our sighing,
And Babel itself with our mirth;
And o’erthrew them with prophesying
To the old of the new world’s worth;
For each age is a dream that is dying,
Or one that is coming to birth.

A man who transforms you into poetry

When you find a man
Who transforms
Every part of you
Into poetry,
Who makes each one of your hairs
Into a poem,
When you find a man,
Capable,
As I am
Of bathing and adorning you
With poetry,
I will beg you
To follow him without hesitation,
It is not important
That you belong to me or him
But that you belong to poetry.

~Nizar Kabbani

i like my body

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite a new thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which I will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh...And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you quite so new

by e.e. cummings from Complete Poems 1904-1962

December 26th, 1974 6:45AM by Nia Francisco

Canyon de Chelly my love
the massiveness of you stretched
across our bed

Slowly smoke rises
snow slowly falling
and the smell of meat cooking
makes you a hungry entity for love
motion

the musky odor smells like deer meat

Canyon de Chelly come on
don't flirt with black birds
or become a memorial for tourist

You have a life giving river in your hands
because you are unchanging
unyielding
to temporary moments

Because you are unchanging
I love you honey canyon
the leaves change color but you remain
and you know too many other women
to be actually lonely lonely

your beer smelling breath
makes you sexy Canyon de Chelly

and you say BEER is your business

So?
I still want all of you

Continue of Where

So on March 3rd I totaled my car. Rear ended by an uninsured motorist (of course). Then my car hit the SUV in front of me. Shortly thereafter my car ended up in the next adjacent lane (left side) and was struck in the front yet again.

My car is, was, a two door Pontiac Sunfire Coup. There isn't much left of it. Both air bags deployed. Salvageable parts were few.

My right ankle fractured in two places requiring the placement of two titanium screws. My family has taken to calling me the bionic women. I haven't walked in a month and will not walk for another two. My primary mode of transportation is a knee scooter,

Did I have uninsured motorist insurance? No. At the time of the accident I was having trouble paying for the liability insurance. Anything not required by the law was out of my means. Since the vehicle that hit my vehicle initially did not have even liability insurance, I am now struggling financially even more than before.

Between the tow of my vehicle from the accident site to the day we were able to release the car, the cost out of pocket was almost $400. The day after the accident I was seen in a walk in clinic, which required x-rays, crutches, an aircast, etc. After that I took the bus home to my family (two states away) to have surgery in a familiar hospital. There I had more x-rays, surgery, etc. Since then I have seen the surgeon once more to be casted. I had more x-rays before the cast was placed. In two weeks I will have more x-rays and be fitted with a walking cast. I still will not be able to walk for several more weeks.

Luckily I do have health insurance. The cost of my medical bills after insurance will be out of pocket. Also, as I am a dog walker and can not walk, I cannot work. I haven't worked for the last month and will probably not work again until July. While I am recovering, I am still car less and my bills are piling up.

Where have I been, Where am I?

‘Carnal apple, Woman filled, burning moon,’

Carnal apple, Woman filled, burning moon,
dark smell of seaweed, crush of mud and light,
what secret knowledge is clasped between your pillars?
What primal night does Man touch with his senses?
Ay, Love is a journey through waters and stars,
through suffocating air, sharp tempests of grain:
Love is a war of lightning,
and two bodies ruined by a single sweetness.
Kiss by kiss I cover your tiny infinity,
your margins, your rivers, your diminutive villages,
and a genital fire, transformed by delight,
slips through the narrow channels of blood
to precipitate a nocturnal carnation,
to be, and be nothing but light in the dark.

Pablo Neruda

If

If freckles were lovely, and day was night,

And measles were nice and a lie warn't a lie,

Life would be delight,--

But things couldn't go right

For in such a sad plight

I wouldn't be I.

If earth was heaven and now was hence,

And past was present, and false was true,

There might be some sense

But I'd be in suspense

For on such a pretense

You wouldn't be you.

If fear was plucky, and globes were square,

And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee

Things would seem fair,--

Yet they'd all despair,

For if here was there

We wouldn't be we.

e.e. cummings

D. the beautiful

Horse, Horse, Horse the Second

Tomorrow I will ride D. for the first time. We did the meet and greet on Tuesday. It went surprisingly well, especially for me with my fear of strangers. D. is as gorgeous in real life as he is in the facebook photos. And his owner? Is incredibly nice. I was shocked. The women at the barn where I work are friendly, but I have found most horse people to be quite uptight. It takes forever for them to warm up to anyone, if they do at all. Even when I was good at rodeo (far in the past) I never felt like I fit in. But D.'s owner is friendly and has offered to share her tack and other essentials. We were supposed to meet on Monday to ride, but she texted earlier and we are meeting tomorrow. At 5. I am excited and nervous. Very nervous. I would blame my desire to drink on nerves, but I think that it's just my typical desire to drink. (Yes, I am an impending alcoholic.) Anyway, I wish my new riding boots would arrive on time. Doubtful though. I hope they fit!

Love in Infant Monkeys

Just finished the first of my Classics Challenge books. Love in Infant Monkeys is a collection of stories by Lydia Millet. Its available at Amazon, but I checked mine out at the local library. This book was a runner up for a Pulitzer Prize. I found it to be a mix, the way I find most short story collections. Some stories, like Sir Henry or Tesla and Wife, left me wanting to know more. At the end of those stories I knew I would be researching the subject further. Others were difficult for me to finish. Thomas Edison and Vasil Golakov was my least favorite story for several reasons. I found the subject of elaboration between the two men ( Thomas Edison and Vasil Golakov) distasteful and and the subjects themselves were unsatisfying. Sir Henry, is the story of a dog walker and his feelings toward his charges. One of these charges is Sir Henry. The dog walker reminded me a little of myself. The animals are the important thing for him, but he still wants the outside world to accept him. The end of the story is a choice not yet decided. I hope he chose for his happiness and not for social acceptance.

Horse, Horse, Horse!!!!!!

I've been working at a dressage stable for two weeks now. I clean stalls and feed horses, but I do not ride. Everyday when I am at work I've wondered, "When will I get to ride again?" That was the unanswerable question.
Prior to moving from Montana last June I said that I wouldn't care if I never rode again. Shortly thereafter I realized how wrong I had been. People say that you always want what you don't have and as soon as I couldn't ride I wanted to desperately.
Today I was asking one of the clients at the stable about finding a horse. She mentioned a friend who was looking to do a half-lease on her Thoroughbred gelding. Emails were exchanged and now... Now I am going to see this horse, who is gorgeous, on Tuesday. Just two days away. And if it all works out I will be able to ride him three days a week. Every week. The price is good and the stable is close. His name is.... D. Wouldn't want to give away his anonymity.

To take medication or not?

Pros of being off medication~
No medication weight gain
Fewer or no doctor's visits
Lower cost
Don't have to remember to take meds
Can drink in moderation (well, kind of)

Cons of being off medication~
Angry a lot
Withdrawal symptoms
Body aches
depression
suicidal ideation
feelings of hopelessness

To Be Continued...

Natasha Bedingfield - Strip Me

Take what you want
Steal my pride
Build me up
Or cut me down to size
Shut me out
But I'll just scream
Im only one voice in a million
but you aint taking that from me
Oh oh no you aint taking that from me

Its complicated

Its complicated. Its not that I don't want to talk to you. Yes you. You know who you are. Anyway, its not that I don't want to talk to you. Its that I don't want to talk to anyone. Anyone at all.

I know you are waiting for me to call. Probably wondering if I'm home yet. And I am. Have been for almost two hours. But I still can't bring myself to pick up the phone. I took a shower. Ate dinner. Walked the dogs. Fed the dogs. And the cat. And still... In the quiet, the silence of the house, I almost feel normal. I don't have to pretend. No one is here to care if I'm weird or not. And I know, absolutely know, that if I pick up the phone, that will end.

I cant make my voice sound not sad. Because I am. Sad. I cant be enthused because I'm not. I'm miserable and right now I cant pretend otherwise. If I call, you will wonder. Is it me? And its not. Its me, always me.

Its complicated. Language and words and speaking. I want to say that I want to die. I want to scream it. But I don't because I don't want to die. I want to live and stop feeling like this. I want someone, anyone, to fix it. There aren't words for this. There aren't words to make you understand.
Its complicated.

Pink - Fuckin' Perfect with lyrics

He takes my apathy for life as apathy for us.

Some days, all I can do is cry anymore. I cry when I read the postsecret website, at sad commercials, when I see people experiencing the things that I want but cannot have. I cry when I am frustrated, after I am frustrated, during and after being angry. I cry when I am alone and sometimes when I am not. Then I have to look away, look down, go in the bathroom, the bedroom. Pretend that it is really irritation from my contacts that are making my eyes drip. Sad songs make me weep, and sometimes happy ones as well. I miss my medication. I miss not feeling angry so often, and then so painfully guilty for the anger I cannot control. I hate how lonely I feel. I hate missing the family in Montana because I was just there and it should have been enough. I hate that coming home to the man I love isn't enough. Nothing is enough. I find myself crying randomly for how alone and sad and empty I feel. I feel like a pathetic cliche. Alone and sad and empty.

I hate myself for not caring that the house is dirty, that dinner is cooked, that the laundry is more dirty than clean. I hate how guilty I feel that I don't care. I hate that even feeling so guilty I cant seem to make it any different.

I'm afraid. I have only been home for two days. I am not coping well. If I pretend that I am well, its a lie. If I don't.... What can I say? He takes my apathy for life as apathy for us.

Why, why, why isn't it better yet? I'm an adult. I have a college degree. Two of them. I cut off communication with my own personal abusive family member. I have people who love me. I have a wonderful dog. Despite all of this I am miserable. Two days ago I was hopeful, and now...
Obviously not.

Classics Challenge List ~ Finished!

1. A banned book ~
American Psycho
2. A book with a wartime setting (any war) ~
Blood on the Shamrock: A Novel of Ireland's Civil War
3. A Pulitzer Prize (fiction) winner or runner up ~
Love in Infant Monkeys byLydia Millet
4. A Children's/Young Adult Classic ~
Chronicles of Narnia
5. 19th century classic~
Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc
6. 20th century classic ~
Lolita
7. A book you think should be considered a 21st century classic ~
Reading Lolita in Tehran
8. Re-read a book from your high school/college classes ~
To Kill A Mockingbird

New Job

Started a new job today. Working as a stable hand at a dressage stable in Seattle. It seems good and bad at the same time. The job is fairly laid-back, so that is nice. However, being around the horses and not riding or competing? That may drive me crazy. The one horse looks so much like the filly that I used to have. Before dad sold her, anyway. Just have to persevere.

Classics Challenge

1. A banned book ~

American Psycho
2. A book with a wartime setting (any war) ~

Blood on the Shamrock: A Novel of Ireland's Civil War

3. A Pulitzer Prize (fiction) winner or runner up ~

Love in Infant Monkeys byLydia Millet
4. A Children's/Young Adult Classic ~

Chronicles of Narnia
5. 19th century classic
6. 20th century classic ~ Lolita
7. A book you think should be considered a 21st century classic
8. Re-read a book from your high school/college classes ~ To Kill A Mockingbird

Books for the Classic Challenge so far.

I, Too, Have a Dream

I, Too, Have a Dream

~

A wonderful posting from the author of Beyond Blue.

Uuugh

Today some one I care deeply about lost their job. From the same place that a year and a half ago, I also lost my job. Granted this person was given the option of resigning rather than being terminated, but its still horrid. I've been thinking that resigning, even forced resignation would be better than being fired. I can't feel that way anymore. It doesn't seem to be any less crushing. Maybe on an application for a new position, it isn't as bad. Maybe.

But here is the major thing that keeps chewing on me. What if, a year and a half ago, I had stood up for myself? Gotten legal representation? Everyone told me that I should. But between the medication confusion and the suicidal despair, it wasn't possible. At least, it didn't seem possible at the time. Now I can't stop wondering if I had, would this person be suffering today? Could I have prevented this?

All I want is to make a difference. Sometimes I lose track of that. Lose it in unsettled attempts just to function. But it is what I want. If action could have prevented this...

I don't know.