and you know that she's half-crazy, but that's why you want to be there

Sun, 11 May 2008 16:49:31 GMT

"I am tired. I am true of heart."
Current mood: exhausted

the pain is my constant companion. sometimes it withdraws a little and I am able to go socialize with the neurotypicals, but for every hour spent in the garage at the lyndale rats' messing with bikes, there are seven hours spent in bed listening to the pain gnaw away at my body, tiny fire ants crazing my bones to dust. worrying about the future and waiting for sleep, and oblivion.

I have reached the point where I no longer remember what it was like before the pain.

I try to tell myself that there is something I must learn from all this, that I am coal being crushed to diamond. Were I to believe in Powers that Be I would be praying for grace and guidance and for whatever wisdom there is to be gleaned from the unrelenting boredom and loneliness to manifest itself in my heart. this is an exercise in trust, and in patience, and in acceptance.

I want to believe that I am not missing out on anything living in the slow lane, hobbling along with my heavy heavy load, I want to believe that I am shedding karma and learning to be true of heart. I want to believe that my suffering will inspire love and compassion in those around me. I want to believe that one day I will be self-sufficient again, that I will be rewarded for these long dark teatimes of the soul, that there is in fact an end to pain.

I can no longer ask for mercy. it has clearly been denied. for now, at least. all I can ask is for patience, and faith. and hope.

may all beings be at peace and free from suffering. and may I one day be one of them.

magick muffins

Fri, 25 Jan 2008 17:26:17 GMT

http://anotherpillarofsalt.blogspot.com/2008/01/these-magic-muffins-are-secret-warp.html

succinctly

Sun, 20 Jan 2008 18:26:21 GMT

1. detoxing off Lyrica. today is day one on zero dose after a week at 33%. fatigue has lifted, aches and pains are greater but at least I have energy. Lyrica plus stress pretty much had me holed up in bed sobbing and getting stoned for all of December. I'm glad it's over. I'm going off the "weed maintenance program" as well. Out of funds but also I know I'll need to pass drug tests to get a pharmacy job.

2. on week two of weekly acupuncture treatments. will probably start herbal treatments as well after I've stabilized off Lyrica.

3. Cymbalta cut from 90 to 60 as there is no greater efficacy at more than 60. after all this furor over the suppression of negative clinical trials of anti-deps, I am wondering if it's even necessary. not gonna go off it, not in the winter, but it's definitely on my mind.

4. my parents are paying most of my expenses for the next few months while I get a pharmacy tech certification, but I desperately need a job. my cell's been off for a week. I miss texting. I'm worried about explaining almost three months off work, and figure I'll just fall back on my old standard. Lying on resumes. I'm going to go on and apply at all the major drugstore chains for a cashier position and then move to the pharmacy when I am certified. My mind balks at the idea of returning to work. these past three months have been a period of over-introspection, and "wallering" in misery, but also of healing. I'm still very tired and achy and not looking forward to having to work. the thought makes me panicky.

5. have been making kombucha like crazy, just decanted the first batch into sealed containers for the anaerobic ferment, hopefully no explosions and I'll have a lot of magic fizzy symbiotic cultured tea in a few days. this time, since the mother grew a new layer, I'm making 2 batches. I love this stuff.

6. still rather madly in love with my best friend. it hurts when I have to leave and go home and all I want is to sleep next to him, but he has a lot of healing left to do, as do I. my mind-rat runs in its wheel furiously demanding to know How it's Gonna End Up. I have to stop and take it out and pet it and soothe it. dear dear mind/heart/soul, no-one can know this. breathe through the hurting parts and count yourself lucky you have someone to love at all.

7. it's bitterly cold, -3 or so, and I'm out of self-indulgent library books. I've been reading a lot of kids' fantasy/sci-fi lately, in an effort to make myself work on my own extremely nerdy cyberpunk book. bots. AI. samizdat AI vs corporate AI.

and that's all I feel like saying.

Mon, 10 Dec 2007 02:02:07 GMT

i'm going to have to trot down to dhs tomorrow. see what i can do. see if they have jobs for people with horrible depression and fibro.

sat last night with a flame and a key. heated it up. thought about how much it would hurt against my arm and how good it would feel, shock myself into some semblance of control.

at this point i think it's safe to say that my life is well and truly fucked. sure, i know once the holidays have passed it will be easier, i will start school and Have Something. right now though, it's a job i am about to lose cos i can't stay focused or stop crying or get out of bed, even, not most days.

the death wish just gets so strong.

it is like being punched in the gut, over and over and over until there's nothing but heaving and broken ribs and bone shards and wet wet meat.

i will not move back home. i can't. i'd rather die. home is here now, despite not having anyone.

it ARE my birfday!! it ARE!!

Fri, 07 Dec 2007 06:02:48 GMT

busted

Tue, 04 Dec 2007 06:40:50 GMT

5 minutes
4:58 PM Nb: i saw your cl posting
4:59 PM me: oh shit
Nb: i look at those very, very rarely
but i just happened to the other night
me: fuck shit fuck shit
Nb: it's not that bad
5:00 PM me: ha
rrrrrright
5:01 PM Nb: i thought it was sweet
5:02 PM me: hmf
i'm such a freak
7 minutes
5:09 PM me: sorry.
5:11 PM Nb: for what?
5:12 PM me: i dunno, being retarded.
Nb: you aren't retarded
me: mhm
5:13 PM posting missed connections is retarded
liking someone who can;t like you back is retarded
Nb: i disagree
5:14 PM i don't think you have a choice regarding the latter
you do or you don't
5:15 PM me: well i do it compulsively
i'm better than i used to be
5:16 PM it doesn't make me crazy
i guess i just see myself as sort of exhausting to be around
5:18 PM Nb: sometimes
5:19 PM but that's coming from someone who is very low-energy these days
5:23 PM me: i'm a lot better when i can get high every day

nillabean - w4m - 28
Reply to: pers-495907179@craigslist.org
Date: 2007-12-01, 10:12PM CST

I'm falling for you and it's gonna get harder and harder. you're in so much pain and it tears me up that I can't make it better. I'm so selfish for wanting you to get better so you'll want to be with me.

you're the most beautiful boy I've ever met, and when you hold me I want everything. and I can't have it.

* Location: lakeview/logan
* it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: 495907179

rent's due

Thu, 29 Nov 2007 05:04:22 GMT

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

shit shit shit shit shit shit shit

damn damn damn damn

crap

Mon, 26 Nov 2007 01:45:01 GMT

I haven't done this in a while.
Maybe I have nothing to say.

My life has gotten really scary.
Did I say life? Can I even call this living?
Fibro is everything I am now.
I wish I could say the pain is purifying.

Sunburn all the time, just under the skin. Like all my muscles are being ripped apart, fiber by fiber, shredded by the ants that chew my shoulder.
The same calf cramps I've had since I was little.

I quit working at my crappy desk job cos I couldn't handle the stress.
Had a little money from the dominatrix porn saved.
The producer offered me a job as his assistant, but after I got back from Boston, exhausted, and then hauled heavy shit up and down stairs while filming for 10 hours, I was a shaking wreck. So then he didn't want me to help with the shoots anymore and tells me he's making me affiliate manager. So now my job is to network with our affiliate sites and get them to post more links and thumbnails.

I'm not really happy about it, but I don't know what else to do. I have pretty much exhausted all my job opportunities. I'm too sick and tired to work, especially an eight hour day. When you consider that the normal amount of sleep I get when I don't have to get up is twelve hours, you understand why. There aren't enough hours in the day. So all I can do is sit in bed with the laptop trolling sites and sending emails in my Mistress Nicole persona. This isn't life.

I keep saying I am going to call Howard Brown and try to see a counselor. I need someone to tell me what to do. I don't want to work in porn forever. I want to go to school and be a nutritionist. I want to have a life that isn't just in bed, but increasingly it's harder and harder for me to be social without getting blind drunk. Unless I have weed, but that makes me so foggybrained. It's painfully overstimulating for me to be around large groups of people, and I'm starting to have trouble leaving my house. Once I do leave, it's easier, but it's hard to work up the inertia to reach escape velocity.

I'm thinking of applying for disability and trying to go back to school. And trying to get more meds. I'm getting suicidal from this pain and it is wearing me down.

I've recently met a lovely man who adores me and want to take care of me. The sex is tremendous and he's a Linux geek, so we have a lot in common. He loves that I've done nude modeling, tells me I am gorgeous and beautiful and hot every five minutes. I think I've finally gotten to the point where I can let someone take care of me, I just worry that he won't really understand how shitty I feel.

Last night we went to this wretched hipster bar, Rainbo, and it was so packed and loud and smoky that I started pounding drinks to try to numb myself into being friendly, which I did well at, his friends all approve highly of me now. I almost cried on one of them when I was explaining fibro. I hate having to explain it. It's horrible and awful and it's the oone thing that defines me now. Sick Girl. Broken Girl. Limping and crippled.

So that's my life.
Bed. Sofa. Laptop. Porn sites. Scared. Stressed. Broke. Don't know if I'll have rent on time.

Wed, 28 Feb 2007 02:18:39 GMT

my arms are on fire.
I limp when I walk.

there are invisible nails in my shoulders. random parts of my body fall asleep. sometimes it's like being electrocuted.

I count days til Saturday night so I can get righteously drunk, do some blow, and fuck someone. Ideally I will do this until the sun comes up, then I drug myself to sleep and hopefully do it again Sunday.

there's no future on nights like these. there's just counting hours.

hm

Thu, 25 Jan 2007 01:50:06 GMT

I think being single is about to get interesting.

winter cleaning

Wed, 27 Dec 2006 21:30:37 GMT

my landlady died, which means in a few months i am going to have to find a new place to live. as much as i love tom, i really want to get a place with spider. i haven't gotten a chance to talk to him about it, though, cos i've been in memphis and now he's in rochester ny cos his dad is dying. i haven't even really talked to him since i left, and it's making me anxious.

i've got wretched credit as a result of not paying my credit cards or student loans for a year, so i am not even sure if i could GET an apartment. definitely a problem.

being in memphis was weird. it's so small, and the buildings are so low and far apart. i felt so awkward around everyone except for tiffy. i pretty much just sat in her bed and read.

my cousins and my aunt and my grandparents are amazing. my mom and dad are fake and boring and make me feel so tense it's painful. by the end of my stay there i was ready to just tell them to leave me the fuck alone. at least my mom bought me a ton of clothes and an electric toothbrush.

i havent had sex in a couple of weeks and it's fucking with my head. spider's always so tired and it makes me think he doesn't want me anymore. and going to my house and having "me time" with porn and electric boyfriend is just not the same and makes me bitter.

i'm trying to learn enough linux to get a wireless card to work on this laptop one of spider's friends left with him. maybe i'll start writing more if i can be comfortable when i am working. i feel so dead inside. i haven't done anything all year.

i'm pretty viciously depressed if i stop to think about it and i'm on the highest level of meds i can be on.

i've been really anxious about work, too, cos i got reprimanded for not greeting a customer when i had a line of people at the counter. i'm terrified nick's gonna fire me and i have no idea what i would do if i lost my job. seth says i'm just paranoid and that nick myspaced him and told him he was glad i was working there, but i'm just on edge all the time.

i wish i could just relax into things and let them be ok. everyone says spider adores me, but i have trouble seeing it.

fucking borderline personality disorder. i've got to do SOMETHING to make this better. my therapist is pretty much useless. i need to find a yoga class i can afford, start getting acupuncture, but now i'm going to have to start saving up for a deposit on an apartment.

this constant worry makes me feel like i'm going to crumble any minute.

daily affirmations

Mon, 04 Dec 2006 06:15:19 GMT

things get better even when i am cranky and depressed and have the alone forevers. they do. i have a job that doesn't make me cry and that pays my bills AND lets me buy fancy cheese when i want it real bad and am high at dominick's and having people over. my boyfriend DOES love me even if he is a crotchety old curmudgeon holed in his puppyfur covered teeny apartment. i DONT have to fuck things up over and over. I am NOT an alcoholic. my family loves me. crazy is not forever.

today i ate nothing but dried fruit until just now, when i scavenged some shreds of meat off the chicken i bought last night and saved the bones of to make soup. now i am hungry. bah.

new tattoo tomorrow. rose, owl, paintbrush. for my grandma rosie.

notes for a comic i'd like to do

Sun, 03 Dec 2006 07:57:04 GMT

somedays i miss the mental hospital. if it'd had wireless internet i'd've stayed forever. every now and then otis redding would come on the radio and we'd all stand in our doorways listening. the old black man in the taped-together allstars and a hoodie so old it seemed like part of his shell, who would recite the voiceovers for radio and tv shows, pray inappropriately, and sing if kindly asked.

i got a new job

Wed, 29 Nov 2006 06:32:37 GMT

i think i might end up getting a shit ton more of these, to correspond to all the "trigger points." then "sick" in script on my collarbones. then "munchausen." then "born to run" on the tennessee outline over an anatomically correct heart.

there's no reason not to.

i don't see how many more years like this i should be expected to endure.

i'm thinking five tops if it stays like this.

in homage to frida, of course.

feel like i've done this a million times

Tue, 31 Oct 2006 05:47:33 GMT

she's is constantly on edge around him, trying not to annoy him or speak to him while he's annoyed with something else, because the harsh way he speaks make her want to dissolve, disappear, disintegrate. either way, she gets this tight feeling in the middle of her chest and sits in the other room (or looks out the car window without speaking) blinking hard and feeling like a small child. she keeps hoping he'll realize it makes her anxious when he raises his voice like that, figures maybe he'll see her trying not to cringe. he's so kind and gentle and patient with his dog, so she knows he has it in him.

my granddad. my dad. and every boy i've ever loved. why is it like this? i know i am way too easily wounded, and fuck you for saying i am making excuses when i blame it on the borderline personality disorder. i've been on edge since i got sent away 14 years ago, afraid to speak wrong, act wrong, blink wrong, breathe wrong, for fear of losing everything, having it all taken away all over again.

i can justify it out, know that you've had to grow this rough shell because of the way they treated you, know that you have this fierce independence and lack of trust cos of every time they kicked you til you were down. i mean, i get it, i know that it's our parents that fucked us up.

i just want you treat me like you treat the dog. that's not that much to ask, is it?

people

Tue, 24 Oct 2006 05:31:37 GMT

if you are currently employed and are not familiar with the ADA, PLEASE read it. print it out and highlight relevant portions. give it to your employer and co-workers. you should not have to feel afraid fo losing your job because of fibro.

http://www.usdoj.gov/crt/ada/adahom1.htm

also, many states have a health care plan for workers with disabilites, for people who can only work part-time. usually you can find out about it at the same place as food stamps. i'm applyign for both and will let y'all know.

fibro sucks. sometimes i doubt that life is worth going on. last week i almost make my gruff pakistani shrink cry for feeling so helpless to help me.

with the oven open and on

Sat, 21 Oct 2006 06:42:12 GMT

i love my job. i love my spider. i love my cat, and my friends.

the pain, though, after 12 days straight of work, is unrelenting, and i know that i will need to spend all of tomorrow in bed.

once again, at the doctor, getting my refill of the Pill, my Np shakes her head and sighs. wish there was something i could do.

i made my shrink tear up on monday. being that he is a gruff pakistani, this made me feel even more hopeless.

is analgesia too much to ask?

you know, but nothing comes...

Thu, 05 Oct 2006 04:32:52 GMT

Every step she took was as the witch had said it would be, she felt as if treading upon the points of needles or sharp knives; but she bore it...

the original is so much different. go read it

Wed, 04 Oct 2006 18:13:55 GMT

i get to see annie sprinkle in a few hours. i hope she will sign my boobs.

Mon, 02 Oct 2006 19:00:01 GMT

for some reason i prefer it over here at spider's to my own apartment. even if my cat is over there. i can't figure out why. maybe it's cos there's a laptop. maybe cos bishop is sort of a synecdoche for spider and i find it comforting.

there's a part of me that thinks i should keep myself detached, that i should force myself to sleep alone, to go over to my messy crowded house where the things that are mine are all crammed into one room. i should keep myself ever so slightly withdrawn just in case.

i love my room, don't get me wrong, its spring green and taupe walls have grown on me, it's just that i have so much clutter that it is disheartening, and i feel like i dont even know where to start. endless loads of laundry. i wash it but lack the energy to put it away, not to mention a thence to put it in. i should throw away everything i don't wear, all the stained and frayed shirts, or cut them into cleaning rags.

maybe it's that i havent ever lived anywhere longer than about 10 months and i've reached that mark.

maybe it's really that spider adores me and being around him is easy. i don't have to pretend to feel good, i can just lie in bed and read and he won't make me get up. at my house i always feel like i should be cleaning. it's not comfortable. i have too much stuff. i need someone to come over and force me to throw away all the trash and superfluities so i can relax.

i am afraid of wanting to be around spider all the time. i am afraid of a repeat of the last time. rationally i know that this is different, that we are well-matched, that it's completely reciprocal. we don't fight. we might crab at each other for a second when we feel badly, but it's not personal. it's not too good to be true. it's good and it's true. it's just taking some getting used to.

i wish i could live alone again. i miss having the place to myself and knowing that all the dirt and mess and dishes and cat hair was MINE and if i didnt clean it up no-one was going to be inconvenienced. i think being at spider's all day is the next best thing. that and he pays for me all the time so i don't mind doing his laundry or vacuuming or walking bishop. it's my way of keeping it even.

things are slightly tense with tom, my roommate. he's been really depressed and trying to get meds straightened out, plus working out like crazy, so he's either not home or in his room. he calls or texts me all the time when i am over here and tells me to come home, but then he just goes to sleep. he is one of those people who dont like solitude. me, i love it.

i guess being around spider is close to solitude, since we can just be in the same space and do different things, or lie in bed and read together. in a way, my relationship with him is a lot like the one i have with tachi.

if i told me therapist that she would crack up, but it's true. we comfort each other physically and emotionally, i like just being around him, and i never doubt that he loves me. pretty much my cat is the only boy who has ever made me feel that. i cant wait until spider gets some furniture and tachi can come over. i am going to get a little rolling carrier and just take him with me when i want to sleep at my house or over here. it will be awesome. or else a little trailer. he will HATE it and it will rule.

it's raining. my muscles hurt. my neck and shoulders havent been right since my bike wreck, but it's cosy over here with just bishop curled up in his puppy nest.

Thu, 28 Sep 2006 18:32:39 GMT

i do this every time. some minor upset leads me into sugar consumption, back down into a bad diet. i quit eating well. i have cereal for breakfast. wheat wheat wheat. way too much dairy, which i KNOW i am allergic to. i drink too much, i quit taking my supplements. i get really angry and self-pitying about being sick instead of doing things to minimize its impact.

i know a healthy diet is expensive and time consuming. i have made it clear to myself that i am NEVER going to get my ass in gear to actually go to dhs to apply for food stamps, so i am going to take my therapist's advice and just mail in the damn application. sheesh. i am so balky sometimes.

and the thing is, i CRAVE healthy food. i want greens ALL the time.i want sweet potatoes and fish and chicken and whole grains and nuts and dried fruits instead of sugar.

i just hate washing dishes. i hate cleaning up after my roommate when HE doesnt wash dishes or when it is not my turn to unload the dishwasher. THAT is exactly when i slip back into my pattern of having cereal.

so, i am going to talk to spider and ask him to PLEASE not let me have sugar or ice cream or to eat it around me as i have zero willpower when i first go back on my diet. i'll try to cook more at spider's, since he helps me clean up.

even when i am dead broke i always have garlic and sweet potatoes and onions and quinoa and nuts around.

also i need to figure things out with tom. i know i am not ready to move in with spider yet, as much as i wish i could, since i know he'd take such good care of me. i have to have my own space and not get too dependent on someone else to take care of me. because what if he stops and i am screwed.

i get scared of how little money i make, how much my bills are. i want things to be easier, i want to have money to go to the chiropracter and massage therapist.

i need to go home and walk sam and love on my cat now. it's just so cozy over here with the laptop and bishop in a puppy ball snoring next to me.

whinge

Thu, 28 Sep 2006 06:30:18 GMT

how long must we sing this song
i need to call my nurse and tell her to make an appt for me at the hospital, so i can wait 2 hours in the filth and the germs to tell an intern about how the Pain Makes Me Want To DIE. how do i tell a little shy person in a stiff white coat that if i take the meds i sleep for 11 hours and wake exhausted and have no time left to get things done. how do i tell him that if i dont take them i will stay up typing my complaints ad nihilum. how do i say when it gets bad i think that a big bright finale would be better than this long drawn out dwndling.

when it gets like this i want to start over

do i believe in recycling

yes or no

at what point should i stay alive for other people's avoidance of pain as opposed to ending my own ceasless pain. at what point is it more selfish for me to stay aive?

iremember how we used to delete our LJ proflles and start again?

i wish i had some assurance that this does or does not happen.

until then it's Booze or Seroquel for a few hours of respite, no matter how much anyone loves me.

if wishes were horses beggars would ride

Wed, 27 Sep 2006 19:11:23 GMT

i quit writing in this thing and started writing myspace blogs cos so many people were reading it and now that no-one reads this anymore i can write in it because if i wrote blogs on myspace everyone will read them. jesus.

spider goes out of town for three days and i make sure before i go stay at his place to take care of his dog that i have done all the dishes that are mine. i get back and it's trashed. not to mention that weekend before this band stayed at our house and used all the towels and all the dishes and tom didnt clean up and there is this crusty macaroni pot that has been there for 13 days and the trash is over flowing and he is being a bitch and arrggghhhhh i hate everything sometimes and i hate my body for hurting all the time and for needing 10 hours of sleep and i hate not having any money and i hate my ipodshuffle for dying when it's only a year and a half old.

i hate money. i hate my body. i hate my nerve endings and each and every muscle fiber. i hate the 1400 bill i got from the emergency room when i went to get xrayed after i got in a bike wreck. i hate my overdrawn checking account that i am just never going to use again. i hate my messy room and not ebough furniture to put my clothes away in. i wish tom's dog wasnt psychotic so spider could bring his dog over when he wants to stay here. i hate the way this birth control pill has changed the smell of my armpits to something rank and oniony no matter what kind of soap or deodorant i use.

grrrrr..

i wish i had about a thousnd dollars. that would make me really really happy. i'd get out of my big hole and throw away everything i owned that was crappy and stained and torn or didnt fit right or broken. i wish i could wipe out my debts from when i wasn't ME and start over. i wish i could get my shit together to fix my student loans so i could go back to school.

Sat, 29 Jul 2006 05:53:13 GMT

at first, when I started selling sex toys for a living, I was turned on ALL THE TIME. then I got used to it.

I love my job, but it's the lowest paying one I've had in something like 4 years. kind of scary. I've gotten "better" in so many ways since moving here, but money management is NOT one of them. right now it's only the fact that our 85yr old drunk landlady hasn't collected rent in months that keeps me from being homeless. as it is, I'd only be able to come up with 3 months right now anyway. my roommate has no idea. if he did he'd freak out. I'm not sure what I'm going to do. try to live off of grits, maybe, as my granddad just sent me like 10 pounds of lovely heirloom organic stoneground fancy grits.

I'm working quite a bit next month. for the market days fest it's 16 hours in a booth 2 days in a row. probably going to have to get some speed for that. fuck. thinking about googling the lowest rist diet pills i can find because the fibro is making me totally incapable of doing anything.

the closet of doom has been taken over by willow, my roommate's sister's (she's in africa for school) agoraphobic cat. my life is a mess.

at least i'm in love. just wish he were here.

Wed, 26 Jul 2006 07:37:08 GMT

oh, distance has no way of making love understandeable.