I woke up at about 5am this morning, smoked a cigarette & went back to bed, but tossed & turned well after the sun had risen. It was one of those ugly moments, nevermind that the covers were arranged uncomfortably but I was too tired to re-make the bed, where I realized I had nothing with which to crossover my conscious to my sleep. Like I've said before, I had no warm thoughts to transition my brain from awake to asleep. I'm just void. I'm just there. What's worse is that nearly everyone can notice it.
Trust when I say that I'd COMPLETELY be cutting if I could find a new spot. I certainly refuse to fuck with $500 worth of bitchin' tattoos on my forearms. Abdomen? Leg? There was just something so sinister and dangerous about grazing the knife so close to the wrist that made cutting that much more pleasurable. I haven't since 2008? 2009? I forget. That being said, we kids did buy my mom a new set of EXTREMELY SHARP kitchen knives for Christmas.
Yes, I suppose going to see a tribute to the songs of a famous misanthrope WITH a misanthrope is probably kind of a buzz kill, but as usual, I don't have anyone else who would accompany me, so I asked him, and he said no, for favor of his sisters flying in. All I answered in response was "Naturally." This is after getting zero response to the fact that Meg and I were out on the town the other night and implied his company would be welcome. Listen to the song. Nobody ever seems to listen to the songs, which play directly into the blog. I wouldn't post them if they weren't totally relevant.
The gifts in the attic, I fear, will have to be somewhat re-packaged (actually, why fucking bother?) for his Cinco de Mayo birthday.
Between him and more utter school total bullshit that some idiot thrust in my direction, I'm getting more depressed as the days go on. Wow, I hope nobody tries to throw Jesus religious bullshit in my face.
Shining moment of the week? Luke turned 14. Hooray for the one thing in life I've managed not to utterly fuck up (yet). Tomorrow, celebration with my brother and nephew, and an ice cream cake. Luke is officially taller than I am (and I'm 5'8") and sounds like James Earl Jones.
Funny, we had a guest speaker in Addictions class on Monday, and based on my answer to "What is recovery?" I had to laugh, because he said, "You're a two-fisted drinker, aren't you?" Well, fuck. I just know that of which I speak, which was that you never "recover." I offered the definition of a "reprieve." Counting days, months and years one has been sober is such as waste of fucking time. Just get an hourglass and watch the sands count the seconds. The speaker said "What if you've been sober for 5 years?" I answered, "Live your life and God bless you, but that doesn't mean you're not going to totally relapse multiple times." The whole thing is stupid. (Actually, I think those were Christ's undocumented last words on the cross.)
Trust when I say that I'd COMPLETELY be cutting if I could find a new spot. I certainly refuse to fuck with $500 worth of bitchin' tattoos on my forearms. Abdomen? Leg? There was just something so sinister and dangerous about grazing the knife so close to the wrist that made cutting that much more pleasurable. I haven't since 2008? 2009? I forget. That being said, we kids did buy my mom a new set of EXTREMELY SHARP kitchen knives for Christmas.
Yes, I suppose going to see a tribute to the songs of a famous misanthrope WITH a misanthrope is probably kind of a buzz kill, but as usual, I don't have anyone else who would accompany me, so I asked him, and he said no, for favor of his sisters flying in. All I answered in response was "Naturally." This is after getting zero response to the fact that Meg and I were out on the town the other night and implied his company would be welcome. Listen to the song. Nobody ever seems to listen to the songs, which play directly into the blog. I wouldn't post them if they weren't totally relevant.
The gifts in the attic, I fear, will have to be somewhat re-packaged (actually, why fucking bother?) for his Cinco de Mayo birthday.
Between him and more utter school total bullshit that some idiot thrust in my direction, I'm getting more depressed as the days go on. Wow, I hope nobody tries to throw Jesus religious bullshit in my face.
Shining moment of the week? Luke turned 14. Hooray for the one thing in life I've managed not to utterly fuck up (yet). Tomorrow, celebration with my brother and nephew, and an ice cream cake. Luke is officially taller than I am (and I'm 5'8") and sounds like James Earl Jones.
Funny, we had a guest speaker in Addictions class on Monday, and based on my answer to "What is recovery?" I had to laugh, because he said, "You're a two-fisted drinker, aren't you?" Well, fuck. I just know that of which I speak, which was that you never "recover." I offered the definition of a "reprieve." Counting days, months and years one has been sober is such as waste of fucking time. Just get an hourglass and watch the sands count the seconds. The speaker said "What if you've been sober for 5 years?" I answered, "Live your life and God bless you, but that doesn't mean you're not going to totally relapse multiple times." The whole thing is stupid. (Actually, I think those were Christ's undocumented last words on the cross.)
17 comments:
I would never say , " Cheer up!" to you right now because that would insult you. We are in similar situations with no "good times" in the the near future , so to speak. But that is just our perspective right now. We tend to do everything in a big way. When we are happy , we are more than joyous , and when things are awful , look out.
If I had been in your class when that guest speaker was there I would have said ," I think she knows more about it than you do pal.". Not from experience , but from knowing exactly what happens to the body when you mix drugs , take away drugs or alcohol, and the make-up of every drug in the world. I call her before I call a pharmacist . From her time working in a doctor's office , she learned every side effect of every drug there is.
I know you feel crummy , but you should be proud , even if you feel crummy , of the great job you did being a mother . Luke is an amazing person. He is hilarious , but is also a very loyal son and you two have a connection that is nothing short of amazing. Don't let someone who is afraid to live life and experience a really, really good time , bring you down. That person is missing out , not you. You will be happy again. Them, who cares.
Besides , we will raise hell together soon. I 'm thinking of you!
Love,Kate
Thank you, Kate!!!!!!
The speaker was a fella from the Chicago Recovery Alliance, which provides clean needles and a needle exchange program for IV drug users, and alcohol swabs, etc. They dispatch vans to needy, drug-laden neighborhoods and do great work. I've wanted to volunteer there for a long time, because, as you know, someone I love a lot was addicted to heroin. I DO know my drugs, inside out. But I didn't know Narcan was available OTC, with needles to administer to someone who's had an overdose on opiates. It reverse the reaction to the opiates, but is SO incredibly uncomfortable that I told the speaker after the class that the first shot of Narcan you get is the last one you ever *want* to get. My last one was after my hysterectomy, when I took 2 Dilaudid (hydromorphone) mixed with all my other meds (including sedating ones), fell off my desk chair, hit my head and my mom couldn't rouse me. I remember waking up in the ER with my mom, Pastor, and my bandmate Jake, who was the hospital's night guard and shaking uncontrollably. It's safe to conclude that Pastor Dave was dragged there at midnight to give me my last rites.
Dr. Monotone was very pleased with my openness and honesty about my drug/alcohol use & watched the YouTube clip of my "friend" shooting himself up. He thought it was very interesting.
Believe me, I hate being depressive, and I hate that he has such control over how I feel. When he rejects me, I feel like the whole world has rejected me, regardless of his excuses (if I get one at all) as to why we can't get together. I'm telling you, he's afraid of me.
Luke is my rock, in so many ways. I love him SO much. God forbid Luke gets his brawny hands on our blueberry-picking friend. He'd beat him to a bloody pulp for continuing to break me. As you, BMF, his BFF, & Meg are my rocks. I owe you all deep gratitude.
I realize cutting again would be a temporary release that would work, but as I told Meg, while it's a solitary self-harm, you almost want to show the person who hurt you, "Look what you made me do, you asshole."
I want to be happy...NOW! You and I feel too much so often. I totally agree with you that our good times are immensely enjoyed and our bad times a total battle. How to reconcile that, I'm not sure yet. Love!
**It's worthy of mention that the Chicago Recovery Alliance does in NO way counsel those who need help against doing drugs to which they're addicted. They're there purely to help prevent the spread of HIV/AID and Hepatitis C. Should someone want to talk to a counselor, that is an option.**
Annie, I do understand the compulsion to cut again, but look at your forearm again with the tattoos on it. You don't have any scars. Nobody would know you used to cut, apart from your admission of it, which is incredibly courageous.
Why your school believes and holds credence in this "concern" (as we spoke of) of a peon at a shitty state school who schmoozes your advisor and the Firing Squad is beyond my comprehension.
Never forget, you're paying your school (which is a for-profit college, don't forget, you're your getting mud-raked for not cowering on your blog. I wouldn't change a fucking thing. Would I write a book? Fuck yeah! This is what, the 3rd or 4th professor who said you should turn your blog into a book? Heed that advice, not the random ramblings of people who waddle their lives through the transoms of academia. You know why most of them are at the school, right? Because they couldn't hack it in the real world. You can and you will. I remember your psychological theories professor your first semester--you told me she hated being a family therapist, so she took up teaching. Look, if you're going to teach, teach writing like you want to.
I agree with Kate that telling you simply to "cheer up" would be fruitless (blueberries don't count) and would insult you. You can't help the way you feel, but Guy's not helping matters whatsoever. You make MY mind run in circles, and I've known you for a long time. What these academics do with someone like you, I don't know, but be tough.
Please don't cut. You're too beautiful to mar your body again, even it it's in a place nobody will ever see. You've accomplished too much to let your hurt feelings, frustration and broken heart to dictate your actions. Please. Call anyone of us before you take a knife to your skin.
You're overwhelmed. I get that. But desperate times don't require desperate measures. Little soldier, hold tight to the good things, like Luke who is nuts about you. No, it's not the same as having a romantic partner, but it's true love at its finest, most important core.
Believe it or not, I do love you. So do lots of other people. Call before you pick up a knife. Ok?
Dear Totally Interested Southern Illinois University Student: Do you lack such a life that you feel the need to plow my blog at 2:30 in the morning? I blocked your school IP, and will block your house if you attempt to infiltrate the lives of myself and my family and friends ever again. I have technology you can't fathom, you asshole who reported me. I don't know who your prospective student might have been or where he/she came from, but rest assured, if I find a pattern of visits, I'll block those too. Love ya tons!
Like I said, try the meditation. If it doesn't work, well, you just killed a few more minutes anyways.
I feel ya, girlfriend, I really do. These are some dark hours. You have my number, and you know I'll be awake, staying guard best I can if you need me. I might be on the other side of the River, and over the mountains, but I swear my heart sits with yours, hurting with you.
Andrea,
Please listen to what BBF said. There is so much wisdom in what he wrote.You have so many devoted people who love you.
Very Moon sounds like someone who is a real friend , someone who would be there for you no matter what. How did you two become friends? Where do you find all these fascinating people?
I wonder if I make any guy's mind run in circles? Highly doubtful considering the last one is doing time and his mind gets overloaded when his two brain cells get into a tizzy.
Can you believe it was twenty years ago that I left Knox? Ah, I left someone there whose mind I could make run in circles.
If I were you , I would insert R.E.M. 's "This One Goes Out To The One I Love" right here.
You have so many talents it is frightening. I will remind you of them everyday if I have too.
Have Luke take a picture of you in the kitty hat. I can image the Garbage song"The coolest of the cool" when I think of you in that hat. That's probably not the title of the the song so look on my fb and I will post the song.
Tim is angry at me because I stayed up late watching Nitwit dancing to that lovely song. Over and over again. I couldn't stop laughing. Out loud. Very Loud! Thank you for that. I need you Andrea! You make my life so much better and richer and fuller. You can't take that away from you!
O.K. , It is intimidating talking about music with Andrea. She knows the titles and words to every song written in the last 50 years. If I can't remember the lyrics to a song, which is often , I make up my own lyrics. I couldn't find a song called "The coolest of the cool". I did find "Special" , a song and video that described my fantasy of how I hope Andrea would eventually feel about #*^. It was totally Andrea, in the cockpit of a helicopter shooting down her nemesis. ( But I don't think Andrea has a male nemesis !).
The song I am trying to find is about a sexy , slinky , seductress. I will keep looking.
Love, Kate
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Oh, and Kate, I'll have Luke photograph me in my kitty hat after his birthday party today with the family. I don't want to wreck my hair!
I finally found the Garbage song.It's called "Queer" and it is great. Andrea , it is so in your face , Shirley Manson even looks like you in the video. (As in HOT)You did after all coin the term, CFM boots!
It was in the "everybody gets divorced" page. Someone had linked something from there, that it thought was some bullshit. Had to do with making "the other woman" this evil bitch. Oh hell no I said to that. She'd said something too, I think, and ever after, we've been friends. I'm no longer following the page, too many women not wanting to take responsibility for THEIR part in making their relationships a shit sandwich.
That's right, Very. I couldn't remember where. I don't agree with what they say on EGD either, but I think I still see their posts sometimes.
Thanks to you, Kate and BMF (And Meg, though not in a comment) for your support through these dark hours.
Shit Sandwich! Priceless!I love you guys!
Oh, Veronica comes up with some doozies!
Please dont cut yourself!!!!!!
You know where i am if you need to message especially if its the wee small hours when the USA is asleep
I have no pragmatic desire to harm myself but the impulse is there, which is something that doesn't usually ever go away in someone like me. What's the worst is the level of agitation that brings forth the desire itself. Don't worry, Rob, I'll bug you, or Very, or Kate, or Meg, or BMF before I did anything I would regret. xo
Kate, Nitwit's song in question was The Buzzcocks' "Oh Shit."
In case you wanted to YouTube it. :)
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