A text

I sent mom a long text. It’s an ultimatum. Not because I’m angry, but because I need to stop the cycles of misery I’m in with the people who are supposed to love me.
Posting it because I need to remember when I’m lost again:

I’m texting because I can’t seem to get my thoughts out on the phone. I am going g to tell you the same thing I told Nathan.
I am not well. And you picking fights with me is not helping. Your first priority is to take care of yourself and that’s fine, that’s good. But you have to let me do the same for me. Every time you send me a hateful text letting me know just how much I fail as a person my blood pressure skyrockets. And I’ve never had that problem so it is hurting my body really badly. And since I’m fat and weak it is  sprinting toward “stroke and die”  if this doesn’t mean anything to you, then do me a favor and just tell me. It will be awful because I do love you, but I don’t want to die more. I am not feeling sorry for myself. I am not being a bitch. But I’m not letting you keep control over how we are to each other because the yo-yo of “I only love you when things go my way” is killing me. If you want us to be in each other’s lives, you have to let me try to fix myself. And that might mean I can’t answer the phone sometimes. But you have to stop.

I am not, nor have I ever said you can’t see the girls. Cali has a phone and they both can talk to you on it anytime.

They can come over whenever you all want

You and Nathan are the ones who threaten to steal my children when you don’t get your ways.

I don’t want to fight. But I have to give an ultimatum.

I can’t live this way and be healthy. We can get frustrated with one another without it becoming a huge end all fight.

If you want you and I to still talk,  I do too. But you have to face that I’m in bad shape too, and my first priority has to be me and the girls, then you, then anyone else.

I slept for thirteen hours last night because I crashed and I have energy finally but I hurt all over like I’m pmsing, migraine, car crash, pancreatic, and galleries attack all in one. And I’m not used to the blood pressure stuff because mine has always stayed low and it’s scaring me.

I love you and I don’t want to fight but I’m not going to back down from anyone else, partly because I’m so agitated from the high bp but also I’m tired of being jerked around by everyone else’s mood swings.


New meds. My new shrink took me off Amatriptaline and started me on Abilify.  Thinking it’s supposed to make the manic episodes easier.

So far it’s just messed heavily with my blood pressure. And when it normalizes I sleep for hours and wake up crampy and sore. I’ve not had many bp issues before so it’s all a big shock to my system. Of course I haven’t had it long enough to see many good benefits yet. So I’m not going to ragequit it just yet.

To be honest, if people weren’t selfish hateful ffdbs here I’d be okay.

Wow. OK. Like, things like the above have started coming out. I’ve always been the mouth shut person. I don’t judge. I try to be kind. And it’s not because I’m actually nice. It’s because I want to be liked. The depression is bitterness at myself for being such an inner bitch.

I want to be a supervillain. Regina on Once Upon a Time. That’s the closest to my mental state. Only i keep it in because I don’t have fabulous magic powers.


Upsey Daisy

I am not well.

I haven’t slept for days. I tried. It’s not happening. I have melatonin at the pharmacy but no way to get it. And I had to discontinue the Elavil so I’m without any antidepressant in my brain and it’s scary just how On my brain is, but with no direction.

I used to do this. But I could lose myself in writing and it was so electrifying. But I still can’t write. Even though at this moment the hurt is gone and the hope isn’t a memory. I can’t.

I was finally able to get in with a psychiatrist. Seven months. But I went in and for the first time, someone looked past the depression and said “We need to calm down your brain.  You can’t level out if you end up crashing so down you can’t function.”

So. Abilify. I’m worried as hell about the side effects. There are some scary ones. Like  “Over ten percent has excessive weight gain” and “Cases of sudden unexplained death”. Which, given the whole severe manic anxiety thing, I think, “I know how my crappy dice lands.”  This dread and terror and the whole empty please for my brain to relax. To wish for slices of normalcy. Why not me?

Please let me sleep. Please. And a good dream?  They’ve been so dark lately. So exhausting. I need rest.



I lost it. 

Just a few minutes ago. 

I had been numb enough for a few days. Even saying out loud, “You know… I’m glad I’m going to stay single.  I’m glad everything happened and I don’t have to deal with relationship crap. I’m better off.”

Meds, I’m sure. I’d even believed it. Then the stupidest thing. We’ve been watching Parks and Recs. Stupid show. But there are some amusing bits.  Then Ben knelt in front of Leslie and she said, “Wait. I want to remember this moment.  I want to remember how perfect my life is right now.”

My life is empty.  I’ve been struggling just to get out of this chair. But I got to the point that I didn’t care. Because I am used to everything being shitty. I’m used to being worried that I can pay my bills up til the last second. I’m used to being tired. I’m used to hurting all the time. I’m used to knowing that I am not someone would ever want, so I don’t have to worry about being in a relationship and being abandoned.  I know that ten years from now I’ll still be alone. I know that it won’t get easier. Ever. It will just keep getting worse until I drown.

But I saw what anyone else can have. And it made me break.

“I hear sound, echo in the emptiness. All around, but you can’t change this loneliness. Look what you’ve found I’m going down.”   -Down, by Something Corporate


Nothing is permanent and nothing is trivial.

Heartaches fade. Memories blur. You stop hearing their voices and the dreams with them begin to comfort rather than hurt.

You can’t clutch to anything. Hold them loosely in your grip, so when they go there’s less damage.

Love freely, love deeply, and don’t take anything for granted. We are owed nothing in this world, not even the next breath.

I’ve lost everything and everyone, started over, more than once. I miss more people than I have right now.

But I’m still breathing.

I don’t know how. Each loss, each new beginning, they get harder. My body wears down, my heart hardens.

Right now I’m surviving. Right now I’m alive. There’s nothing to look forward to. No one i can count on but myself.

But then Kiera curls up against me. Or Cali puts her hand on her hip and tilts her head, huffing in exasperation.

I’m still here.

I’m not happy. I don’t know if I’ll ever be happy again. I don’t know where my life will be even a month from now.

Impermanence. Importance. Love and loss and existence.

I am alone. I am alive.

I am alive.


My worst secret, the most horrible terrible secret, is that I am terrified. About death. About dying. About after.

I used to have faith. I don’t even remember going to church very much, but I would pray and talk to God constantly.  I believed in the Plan, and souls moving on and Heaven holding loved ones and if you were kind and good and believed you would be surrounded in that joy and peace.

I want to believe. I want to have Faith. But I am so scared. What if it’s wrong?  What if it’s false hope and there’s nothing?  The thought of not existing, of my daughters, my mom, the people I have loved, not existing, horrified me and keeps me up pacing and sobbing at night. I used to love the night. I used to feel peaceful. But now I’m just filled with sorrow and homeless dread.

How do people hope? I want to have faith. Howdy you have faith? I know some people are agnostic and atheist or any of the numerous beliefs all over the world… Who is right and who is wrong and how do the ones who believe we cease stand breathing because I am so scared and I feel alone and abandoned by everyone and Everyone and how do they keeping? How do they keep breathing?

No one has ever talked about this feeling with me. Well… I’ve tried. I would beg him to tell me. Tell me it’s okay and my fears are false and it will be okay. But Howland I really be assured unless someone shows me? How do people have faith? How do they let go and just believe?


I can’t stop crying.

I’ve been up since 3 and I’ve cried pretty much continuously.

I will never belong. I will never be a priority.

My heart hurts so much right now.

It wasn’t a bad day. It was a good day. I was glad to spend time down there.

But I will never belong. 

I want to forget. My soul is a burn victim. The surface is blackened and dead and underneath it’s just raw meat and screaming nerves.

I don’t want to care. I don’t want to hurt anymore. I need to lose this before it drains all the color from my life and On dies into Kansas.

Didn’t I used to be strong? How have I survived this long with my emotions being so fragile?

How do people feel happy? Or calm. Peace. Faith. How does faith feel? What is it like to look forward to tomorrow?


I called a crisis hotline for the first time tonight.

Or this morning. Whichever.

He wasn’t there. Allie said, “Oh, they had family plans, and you all were invited because we like you.” I am afraid that she was just being kind.

The party went great. No kids cried. Lots of gifts and guests and I enjoyed actually spending time with a friend out of this apartment.

I was great until I was driving home and the girls were asleep. Alone with my thoughts allowed the feeling of perpetual ineptitude and outsidedness (which I know isn’t a word)  And I felt stupid for being anxious and not sleeping for days. That embarrassment turned into humiliation since I have two levels (numb stasis and entropy) and I started breaking down.

When I got home I told Nathan about my fears and he was trying to help. He really was. But his tone really upset me because it sounded… Idk… Scolding.

I slept for two hours then woke again. And cried. And cried.

I’ve always been too ashamed to call one of the hotlines. I didn’t feel that my pain didn’t compare to real pain. But I couldn’t take it.

She was kind. Reassuring. But not “It’s okay. Things will be fine. Think happy thoughts and fly, Wendy-lady.” She listened and gave some small bits of calming advice.

So I’m… Not okay, but not in near-self-harming misery any longer. So that’s a step further. Small victories are still victories. 

I’m going to curl onto the couch and watch Doctor Who. Hopefully sleep will be in the future.

There. A. Pea.

Therapist says I should go to the party. At which point the rebellious part of my brain said, “Nope. You can’t make me nyahnyah ”

But I’ll go. Allie has been my friend since we were eight. Fucking EIGHT. That’s like… Five lifetimes ago. I don’t have anything that old. So she’s like… Valuable. I can be my weird self. She is funny and smart and I like to see her.

The girls really want to go. 

I’m terrified. I don’t want to even exist in the same air as them. Not out of a hate thing. Out of a “My heart can’t know what I’ll never have.” shattering. I can’t see him. I can’t see them. Times like these I wish I was a drinker. With money to drink.

Which is the exact opposite of what I felt yesterday, but oh well.

She (Therapist) said I seem to be dealing emotionally.  Or that I seem to be, anyway, more than I had been. Seem to be (cautious yeses, Dear Patient).

Sorry. I’ve slept three hours in as many days. I’m so loopy right now. What was I saying? Oh yeah.

I told her I’m doing better because I wordvomit it out on here (not those words, better words).

I’ve been listening to a lot of One Less Reason lately. Every song makes me want to cry and laugh at the same time. Their lyrics feel like Truth.

Oh. I forgot the other day to mention my worst April news. Worst because it affects my kids, not because it’s worse than Jamie getting burnt. Yes, I’m overqualifying this.

So, yeah. The lice thing. You have to bag up dolls and such, right?  My cousin stuck the bag by the back door. Then we did the Pre-Inspection Superclean. And guess what?

Every. Single. Christmas Present. They Got.  Gone.

They cried. I felt awful. Nate took off, texting “It’s not my fault I can’t handle this I just want to die”  And I blamed myself. I should’ve known better than to not triple check after them. But I took the girls aside and told them that there’s nothing that can be done now. It isn’t the first time we lost everything and I doubt it would be the last. I promised I would get them something on the first, because they brought up their grades and they deserve it. But yeah. Helpless. Horrible. All my fault.

I need to sleep now. Agh.