Monday, August 7, 2017


I'm hiding all behind my masks again. Just me and all the versions of me I've been before. Maybe one day the masks will hide me from myself, so I can look myself in the mirror without tears falling. And I fall too. Away into my memories.

Lately my dreams have been tormenting me. Waking up startled, pain coursing through me. I never remember what they're about. Just a hint of something I can't quite put my finger on.

I leave my mind alone but it always comes to bother me. Doing everything I can to distract it, pacify it. Still it haunts me. I can never run from myself.

Tuesday, July 4, 2017

This is just a post

I really need to write more often.

Anyway, not that much is new. Spent a good deal of time outside getting my lawn in order. The early spring did a number on it. Still plenty more to do but it's been too hot.

Plus I'm wearing another heart monitor. The last one was in March '16. I had an episode at the doctor's office. Apparently my pulse went weak. Felt like my heart was being crushed. That was last Wednesday. Saturday...fuck that. It was the worst episode I've ever experienced.

What an episode usually looks like: I get lightheaded and dizzy. Sometimes I know I have to get to the ground. Other times I just sort of collapse. Followed by chest pains and trouble breathing. Only once or twice has moving been an issue.

Saturday was a whole different ball game. I made it up three stairs and my body gave way. I had to lower my head to a stair. For some reason instead of sliding down the stairs, my brain felt the need to go up 11 more stairs. I think it was based on the last thought I had that I was going upstairs. But I couldn't remember why.

As soon as I layer flat, there was this whoosh inside my head. And weird pulses in my limbs. I won't even talk about the chest pain. I'm still sore.

It lasted an hour, though I managed to get myself somewhat together around the half hour mark. No, I didn't go to the hospital. Nothing they could have done for me.

Either the med I'm on has stopped working correctly (good odds with my history) or there's another issue no one has figured out yet. I'm hoping for the former because I really don't need more medical issues.

In other news, screw TGIF. They don't use real butter in anything they make. They use a faux butter with soybean oil. This wasn't always the case. But now I can't eat there. Frank and I walked out last night because I told the waitress there was literally nothing I could eat. For what they're charging these days, they can afford to use real butter. No wonder chains are dying.

Tuesday, June 6, 2017

I wish I wasn't so screwed up. But it is what it is.

I woke up this morning, on 6 hours of sleep (not nearly enough), yet when I looked into the mirror my eyes were shining bright. And by the end of the day, I'm ten miles back. My eyes are dull.

I was with Lisa today, running errands with her and the monster. And gods above was he living up to his name. But the day was good. The exit we pulled off from pulls up literally across from where Frank works. And I forgot to say where Steve used to work, though it was back behind it. Hush hush secret stuff lol. I told her he was still there because I genuinely forgot. It's not even something I technically should know. But I do. Whoops.

But on the way back into the highway...I felt the beginnings of falling apart. Sometimes there's a stabby feeling when I think of him. Literal and figurative.

Then I snapped back for a little bit. Lisa and I watched more Dr Who. It took maybe a minute of driving before my thin veneer of "okay" was stripped away. I stared at the concrete wall on a bridge over a river and thought "It's there so I don't drive my car into it." Because in that moment I wanted to. I wanted to crash into every car and truck that got near me, but I knew we weren't going fast enough for it to kill me.

And I thought about inpatient therapy. I thought about running. Running and running and running. Driving as far as I could to get away. But I can't run from the demons in my mind.

I felt myself slipping, like my mind was on a slide. Descending onto that cusp of aware and disassocation.

For some reason, my scars that most doctors think landed me in the ER for a psych eval were prominent today. My therapist knows though.

If you're worried that I'm going off the deep end, well...i didn't write for a year because I was. I'm talking about it. Far less concerning, I promise.

And I'm happy I got to myself smile and my eyes alight this morning. It's something I haven't seen in a very long time. But those moments are always fleeting. It makes the crash back to my reality all the more harsh and cruel.