Thursday, January 31, 2008

Phillip....

This time
This place
Misused
Mistakes
Too long
Too late
Who was I to make you wait
Just one chance
Just one breath
Just in case there's just one left
'Cause you know, you know, you know

I love you
I've loved you all along
I miss you
Been far away for far too long
I keep dreaming you'll be with me
And you'll never go
Stop breathing if
I don't see you anymore

On my knees, I'll ask
Last chance for one last dance
Cause with you, I'd withstand
All of Hell to hold your hand
I'd give it all
I'd give for us
Give anything, but I won't give up
Cause you know, you know, you know

That I love you
I loved you all along
And I miss you
Been far away for far too long
I keep dreaming you'll be with me
And you'd never go
Stop breathing if
I don't see you anymore

So far away
So far away
Far away for far too long
So far away
So far away
Far away for far too long

But you know, you know, you know
I wanted
I wanted you to stay
Cause I needed
I need to hear you say
I love you
I loved you all along
And I forgive you
For being away for far too long
So keep breathing
Cause I'm not leaving you anymore
Believe it
Hold on to me,and never let me go
Keep breathing
Cause I'm not leaving you anymore
Believe it
Hold on to me never let me go

Keep breathing
Hold on to me, never let me go
Keep breathing
Hold on to me, never let me go

Far Away - Nickelback

Busybodies.

So it seems that I once again have new stalkers on my blog reader list. It seems to come in cycles, which I find kind of amusing. So many people who hate my guts can't seem to keep away from reading what I have to write here, and that really does amuse me.

So for those people who are so interested in what's going on in my life, I guess I'll update.

I went out of town, to do some thinking. I'm not sure what I want to do anymore. I need to evaluate a lot of things. I will most likely spend some time on the phone, and a lot of time thinking.

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Cut, cauterize, burn it away and the pain will stop...

Sometimes I wish that everything I owned would still fit into a backpack, and I could simply throw it all into one, and toss it into my car, and just *go*. Run away, and just keep going. Not that I know where I'd go, exactly. Or what I'd do when I go to wherever there ended up being.

But there are days lately where all I really want to do is *go*. Run. Escape. Not deal with anything, or anyone, for any reason.

I managed to split myself into two separate parts, to get through some problems that I was having. To help a friend, I divided myself. And now I'm stuck, because I can't quite seem to put myself back together. If I say how I feel, that I'm hurt and angry and broken...where does that leave me? I don't want to be hurt or angry or broken. I just want to wipe it all away and forget it. In fact, I'm trying very hard to do just that. And I succeed most of the time. But every now and then, it just creeps out, and it smacks me out of nowhere, and I break. For no apparent reason, with no provocation. I just slip, and seemingly from the great beyond, I collapse. And it has to be frustrating, because it seems as though there's nothing wrong.

And I hate myself. And I blame myself. And I cry, when there's no one to see me. I've cried oceans of tears, so many that I wonder that there are any left. I sob until I'm empty, and then I put the cork back into the bottle, pick up the pieces, and start over again, going through the motions, because I don't know what else to do.

And I'm not even angry *at* anyone. I'm simply angry, because I hurt. And I feel lost, and I don't know how to make it stop. I am unfamiliar with this feeling. My normal course of action is to simply cut out the pain and walk away, and I didn't do that. Cut and cauterize the wound. That's always been my solution in these types of situations. If it hurts, cut it off, burn it, and then it will be over, and I can move on. It will hurt like hell, but after a while, it will get better.

I've done that before. Burned it off so completely I can't even remember parts of it. I don't want to do that again. Cutting out a part of yourself seems to not be as a good of an idea now as it was when I was younger, but that doesn't leave me with a great set of solutions for what to actually *do* now.

So I sit. And I think. And my mind runs around in circles, and I slowly drive myself crazy. And it builds up like a slow shake on a glass bottle of carbonated water, which will explode after a while, because of the pressure. Which I guess is essentially what keeps happening. I keep exploding. And then the bubbles have popped out. And I put the cap back on, put the bottle away, and wait for another day, when it's a slow shake up again.

And I don't know what to do, or what to think. And I'm so tired. And it hurts so much. And I'm so tired of crying quietly alone.

Sunday, January 27, 2008

Something wicked this way comes

That sounds dire, doesn't it? I haven't blogged in weeks, and I know it. And that's primarily because I haven't been certain what precisely I wanted to write in here. I have a fairly stable readerbase, and because of that, and the fact that I know that people read this, I haven't known what to say.

Thanks to all of you who have been worried about me. I'm doing...I'm doing okay. I won't say that I'm dancing on the rooftops, because that would be a lie. But I'm holding my own.

For those of you who are not in the loop, because I haven't been screaming from the rooftops or calling anyone either, I've been both ill and having problems in my relationship lately.

I've had a series of Fibromyalgia and Lupus flares for the last few weeks which have completely knocked me on my ass because of the winter storms running through Fresblow, and I haven't been handling them well at all. Queue the tiny violins (grin wryly), and so I've been hiding from, well, pretty much everything off and on. I took a fair amount of painkillers, and buried myself in my apartment with the intention of sleeping through it as often as possible. As it turns out, I muchly do not like the feeling of being high that my painkillers cause now that my anti-seizure medications work the way they are intended to work.

But it's been a rough few weeks with the storms rolling through.

And it's also been a rough few weeks for me, because Phillip and I have been having problems. A lot of problems. I don't know yet, whether or not those problems are going to be solved, or how that's going to turn out. For right now, we're doing all right. I've been under a fair amount of stress, primarily because I was being stupid. And I'd been fighting with a lot of people because of it. I didn't and don't want to lose Phil. I've said that before. But I also am not willing to be a doormat, and get walked on. And my friends are frustrated with me, because they think that is what is going on, and as they see it, that's how I've been treated.

I know my friends are angry with me. They believe that I shouldn't allow anyone to treat me with anything other than roses and chocolates and accolades of how much I'm loved and adored and things of that nature. And while I appreciate to a certain extent their support, I really do, I also know that now it's time for them to back off some.

Phillip and I are going to attempt to make a go of whatever it is that we're doing together. It may or may not work. Such is life. And I'm okay with that. And I guess what I'm asking is that my friends try and respect that. I know that some of you don't like him. I know that you don't approve of my decision in this. But the simple fact is that while you don't understand why I'm doing what I'm doing, and why I'm willing to take him back and make this work, the choice is still mine. And I do love him.

I'm not asking you to like him. I'm not asking you to be his friend. I'm asking you to be civil, and to not judge me. And I'm asking you to understand that I'm an adult, and to know that I'm not wearing blinders, and to know that I won't make the same mistake twice. It won't happen again. And I won't stay to be trod upon. I'm not a doormat, you have no need to worry on that score.

And he's treating me well, and he cares for me. You need not fear for me. If he stops treating me well, this will end, whether I love him and want him or not. Worry not about that.

So that's my update, late though it might be. Don't throw rocks, there's been damage enough done already. Pain enough has been inflicted, and the only one who needs to be angry and hurt is me. I don't want any one else casting stones. I don't want any one else trying to defend me. I can defend myself now. I appreciate the idea, and the attempt, but I am alright. I'll ask, if I need to. I'll cry on shoulders if I need them, I promise. But for right, I'm doing alright.

Trust goes both ways, and damage has been done by both. I'm choosing to let that damage go, on both sides. Guilt can eat someone alive, if they let it. I should know, mine has eaten at me for a long time. I won't ask anyone to not feel bad for pain they have caused. I will ask that they not castigate themselves unduly for what's over.

This blog is long enough, now. That's my update for right now. I'll probably post again later, something a little lighter, a little more "fun".

Latez, people.

Secret word of the week

This week's word of the week is "abeyant"

and now on to an actual blog.

Sunday, January 20, 2008

Secret word of the week

This week's word of the week is:

discombobulated


Carry on.

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Secret word of the week

This week's word of the week is:

disrespect

And that's the word of the week, because that's how I've been being treated.

I hope next week's word doesn't suck as much.

Sunday, January 6, 2008

Secret word of the week

This week's word of the week is going to be:

invidious

Which was chosen because I'm a nerd, and I went surfing dictionary.com, and that was what I found there :)

Have a nice week boys and girls. I'll be back next Sunday with a new word, and gods only know what I'll be choosing then.

Thursday, January 3, 2008

I hate this feeling

I'm sick again. Not the type of sick that would require a rush visit to a hospital or anything, so everyone can take a collective breath, and refrain from calling and yelling at me, thanks. But my lupus is having a field day, and I hurt. And because I've been kind of stressing out lately, my speech has gone wonky on me as well. It's been this way for days.

Unfortunately, there were some calls that I *had* to make, regardless of how crappy my speech was doing. One of which was to my new prescription insurance company, because I needed to make sure their formulary covers my meds, because I can't afford them any other way, and I don't live without some of those medications. C'est la vie, right? Unfortunately, I got a customer service representative on the phone who was a complete asshat, and I was already having a bad day.

While I am aware that I talk painstakingly slowly when my speech is impaired, I *am* understandable. I use very small words, and I'm very sorry for that. But there was absolutely no call for the guy to cut me off and ask to speak to my mother, as though I were an incompetent child. In my continued, painstakingly slow manner, I asked for his supervisor. To whom I explained that I have a brain injury, and that I am a fully functioning adult, and that I was checking on the status of anti-seizure medications, along with several others, and that I was extremely insulted by that particular customer service rep. And I don't really care if I got the man in trouble. That was exceedingly rude and uncalled for.

And while I was explaining this, and I was upset...Mona laughed at me :( She says I sound like a four year old who is just learning how to use big words. And while I know she's right, it doesn't change that I feel rotten. And coming on the heels of "Can you go get your Mommy little girl?", it was just an all around suck.

And I laughed it off, because I know she was just teasing me, but I can't control how I talk any more than I can control getting sick the way I do.

And I hate it more than anyone else could possibly imagine, this complete lack of control. There is nothing worse for someone like me, someone who has always been articulate, been a functional adult sounding person, to be forced to sound like a child verbally. I stutter, and I sound like a fool, and people mock me continuously. And all I can do is sit and take it. And the worse I'm mocked, the worse my speech gets, because the more upset I am, the longer it takes to regain the control. And I'll be this way for the rest of my life.

And don't get me wrong, I'm grateful than I'm alive. I'm unimaginably grateful to my surgeon, the one who left me with any speech at all. I can walk, and talk and communicate. I'm grateful to be alive. I am. I'm grateful for a lot of things.

But being mocked and broken and handicapped is disheartening at best. And at worst, it's crushing. It's heartbreaking, because I can't sit and cry and wail about it. I can't even explain why I'm upset *when* I'm upset, because I don't have the words to explain it. All I can do is sit in silence, and watch the people around me, and be frustrated at my inadequacy.

And at the root, that's how I feel now, almost all of the time. I'm inadequate. I'm sick and broken and a half a person. When I'm feeling fine, it's great. But when a flare hits, and my speech goes out, I feel like less than real. Inadequate. I can't take care of a child. I feel irresponsible because I can't make "plans" and know that I can keep them set in stone, because if I have a series of bad days, no matter what plans I've made, I simply may not be able to handle them. Some days I simply don't drive, no matter what I had going on. The State of California says I can. *I* say I cannot. I choose, responsibly, not to put anyone else at risk.

I feel inadequate right now, because of the mockery this week. And I can't even argue about it, because my speech has gone from bad to worse every day for the last several. And all I want to do is cry. And I'm tired of that.