hand to (your loud) mouth

yes, i realize that this blog is public, but i don't understand people's inclinations to post negative, hateful comments on it. do you get pleasure in insulting people you don't even know (me), who obviously have their own issues going on (me) because they're posted for the world to see? just because i put myself out there doesn't mean that i want to be bitch slapped.

OR are these individuals clueless in the fact that they're acting like mean, spoiled brats? i don't know why i have to address this again; i already wrote a blog about a jackass who read my posts and then gave me grammar and capitalization critiques. don't understand what i'm saying, don't read it!!

i don't want to think that people are naturally cruel to others, but i do sometimes wonder. anyone who reads what i post is completely entitled to think whatever they want (that goes without saying). however, if you *don't* like what i post, especially if you don't even know me, and there are random people who follow this that i have no clue who they are, DON'T FUCKING READ MY BLOG!! i don't need people who are intentionally inflicting pain on me.

i have enough shit going on in my life that i'm trying to improve, work through, and fix that i don't need your judgmental negativity. just leave me the hell alone; it's not like you're saying anything that's helpful or thoughtful. if anything, remember what you were taught in the 1st grade: if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.

you go your way, i'll go mine.

masochist

so, it seems that i've managed to get rid of the one behavior that i realized was self destructive. it's stupid and guaranteed to make me feel like shit about myself, regret my past decisions, and effectively bleed my heart dry.

said activity was my contacting, usually via text, this guy that i had a relationship with, off and on, for about two years (see prior blog entry entitled "oh well, whatever, never mind). i'm referring to the third guy: an alcoholic, emotionally shut off individual.

i had an epiphany one night when i was sitting outside texting him, and realized the utter futility in doing something that will never give me what i want or need. i realized that this was one of the stupidest fucking things i could do, and that it was accomplishing nothing, other than reinforcing my distrust, contempt, and lack of faith in humanity, men, and particularly myself.

texting/calling/emailing him was something i did when i felt bad about myself and just needed that extra push to spiral into self pity and continue the cycle of self-loathing i tend to indulge in, but have gotten much better about ignoring.

being treated like shit by this guy or being flat out ignored also fortified my belief that i don't deserve to have any men in my life treat me well, or to *ever* have a healthy romantic relationship...whatever the hell *that* is.

i talked to my therapist about the texting issue approximately two months ago, and since i mentioned it roughly five minutes before the end of the session, we didn't really have a chance to discuss "healthier" options, but after talking to her, i realized that i had reached my saturation point of this jackass's behavior and cut him out cleanly and quickly. no more reckless texting. i virtually forgot him.

yay, me.

anyway, due to some really substantial progress, and the recent onslaught of debilitating pain that has rendered my body a virtual train wreck, i've scaled back my visits with my therapist, or had to cancel/reschedule them, so i have yet to discuss healthier alternatives with her as far as what i can do on the rare ocassions when i'm feeling particularly masochistic or in a self-punishing mood. in fact, i haven't even felt that way until the last week, when things started wandering into the realm of complete hopelessness and futility.

sooooo, being the determined, over-achieving person i am, i found another unhealthy solution: digging through online avenues to find out about my ex's and what's going on in their world/lives, much to my detriment because, honestly, who gives a shit? let the past lay dead and silent.

these are people that i haven't thought of in months and months, and i have been going out of my way to see how they've moved on, if they're happy, healthy, and satisfied. i don't know if they are, because lots of people put on a good public front to disguise their true lives.

these guys are not ones i want in my life, except for one, who seems to have been given a gag order by his wife to not talk to me. it wouldn't be the first time an ex was forbidden from talking to me, and i can't blame the wife in that situation, because after not talking to said ex for four years, i saw him and we managed to get naked in about 6 hours, effectively ending their fragile, fragmented marriage. of course, if you make something/someone forbidden, the level of interest multiplies exponentially.

however, no such issue exists with the other (my oldest/first) ex, who also lives in another state. we're technically still friends, and communicate off and on, but i haven't seen him in almost 9 years, and he has morals that the other idiot doesn't...i think.

anyway, i don't think this is a healthy thing. it brings up ghosts of the past, romanticizing bad memories because sometimes it's easier to remember the good things. if you can only remember all the horrible instances of past relationships, you start kicking yourself for wasting time with that person in the first place.

however, these guys are no longer in my life for a reason; i don't even want to be friends with them. i definitely need to find another way to deal with these negative feelings about myself...start doing affirmations or something. i think part of the reason that i have resorted to checking up on them is that when i was in these relationships, i had a network of people that i hung out with all the time; a big group of friends in which i felt supported, had fun, had social interaction. i really feel that void right now, but looking at the FB profiles of guys i used to date isn't going to fix anything.

it took me a long time to let go of the past, and there's no reason for me to go back to what i left behind years ago.

alone

deleted due to judgment (that i don't need) from people i don't know.

oh well, whatever, never mind

nirvana.

rooting through the lives of people who used to be in your own life, and digging up your emotional discarded baggage in large doses is never a good idea. you end up finding things that piss you off, annoy you, or make you want to send bitter, bitchy emails.

well, *i* do anyway. in order to avoid doing the latter (because i haven't done it in a long time, and i'm working on creating better habits when i'm feeling self destructive), i'm going to f-ing blog my annoyance away.

hopefully.

i don't understand how people who are heartless, psychopathic, co-dependent, and manipulative have the privilege of moving on with their lives, finding happiness, and having someone who can deal with them on a daily basis. i've finally gotten past most of the damage that i allowed my ex-boyfriends to inflict upon me, and the three last culprits seem to be perky, fulfilled, and expecting a kid, apparently.

i don't talk to any of these jackasses anymore because, after all, they are jackasses. one is a habitual cheater and only breaks up with someone when he's found a replacement. he's been single a total of nine months in 18 years. no exaggeration.

this is the charmer who cheated on his wife with me, and actually referred to me as his "crowbar", allowing him "out" when he no longer to be in a relationship.

awesome. that term is from a fiona apple song, from an album that we used to listen to incessantly, and looking back, i can't believe that i wasn't completely offended and disgusted that that was how, and what, he thought of me. pathetic.

so, the second winner is the psycho ex who did everything possible to tear me down, cheat on me with anything with a pulse and a vagina (a pulse may not have been necessary, come to think of it), mock every relationship i had with my family and friends, and destroy whatever self worth and dignity i had.

i was STUPID enough to move to california with him, but it was actually an escape from the cheater because he broke my heart somewhere in there, and i just needed to run away. i knew in my gut that leaving the state with a psycho because of a cheater wasn't the best idea i ever had, but it was a quick solution and i figured i could deal with the fallout later.

that gem is now with some girl who is exactly his type: brunette, sporty, bordering on butch, from the east coast, loves volleyball...because i was so often reminded that i was exactly *not* his type...for six and a half years. um, remind me again *why* you wanted to be with me...

my one consolation on the psycho's new girlfriend is that she is fuuuuug-ly. to be fair, i'd own up if she were cute, but seriously, she's not. in his FB profile pic he's hugging her, and at first i thought she was a man, or a transvestite at the very least. i looked at her pic on her page, and it's not much better: a chubby transvestite with a double chin.

the last in the triumvirate is someone that i only really "dated" for a month. after breaking up, we didn't talk for about nine months until i accidentally (really, i wasn't looking for him at all. gotta love gmail's address book) found him on FB.

gotta love FB.

being the bored stalker that i can be at times, i saw on his sister's page (because he's too closed off and secretive to have a page any longer) that not only was he in town overnight on my birthday, he visited his sister, TEXTED me to say happy birthday, and then wrote me this long, elaborate email saying that i'm a "phenomenal person and deserve to be happy" and that he'll "always care for me on a different level than anyone else."

is that a good thing?

being the masochistic dumb ass that i was at the time (a whopping four months and fourteen days ago, but who's counting?), and *trusting* that i could take him at his word (maybe just really wanting to take him at his word) despite the fact that he's the biggest flake i think i've ever met, i replied and we talked about fixing things between us, having a future, blah blah blah.

in the span of two days, he pulled his old disappearing act. i can attribute this to the fact that i'm pretty sure he's an alcoholic, he was raised a jehovah's witness, and he's under 30 years old.
everything out of his mouth from that point on became blah blah blah.

then i saw today that he was in town on valentine's day for a two hour layover between flights, and he went to his sister's work, spent two hours with her, and then drove back to the airport.

(insert ditzy, valley girl voice here) "wow, like he's the best!"

i'm over all these retards. i'm not trying to offend anyone, but i can't think of them as being anything other a derogatory, insulting name. plus, my dad reads this, so i try to keep it clean. what i'd really like to call them is a four-syllable word, rhymes with brothersucker. i don't even want to be friends with these dudes. i'm just frustrated that i put up with so much shit for so many years, and yet i can't find a decent, sane, cute man with some semblance of hair, in dallas.

i started dating the co-dependent cheater in 1997!!! and didn't end things with him until 2007. the psycho lasted from 1999 until 2006. yes, i've done the math. there's an overlap with the two, but the nine months that i wasn't with the psycho, i was busy with the cheater, helping him end his marriage. and no, i didn't cheat on either of them...ever.

yay, me.

the alcoholic has been messing with my mind since july 2008, and i haven't talked to him since october. still, a month-long relationship that dragged on for over two years, and something tells me he'll pop up at some point in the next year.

i ask you WTF is wrong with me? on second thought, don't answer.

i feel like i'm in a much better place emotionally and mentally, after *lots* of work...now, if i could just get my body to stop falling the hell apart. however, according to the therapist i talked to today, it's not uncommon for someone to get their mental health in order and then have their body go to hell in a hand basket. that's a good thing for me because if i was having "chronic pain" the way i am now when i was dredging through my last horrific, suicidal bout of depression, this kitty cat wouldn't have made it through the fire.

basically, the body exists in a survival mode while you're losing your mind so that you don't go completely off the hook, and throw yourself off a bridge. then, when you think everything is aces, your body says, "hey, the mind's good! commence self-destruction of anatomy in 5...4...3...2...1...POW!"

i guess i'm in a state of repair (does it *ever* end?), working really hard to get everything in order, discard all the baggage, and get my body to a fully functioning state again. the above mentioned dudes don't have much of an interest in emotional reflection or growth, and i've known them long enough, and well enough, to know that they don't really want to change. why would they? what they do has been working for them for years (thank you, current therapist who shall remain nameless).

obviously, the choices i've made have *not* worked for me in the least, and i'm determined to get out of this never-ending recycling of boyfriends and bad relationships. the alcoholic was the last fragment hanging on. it's ironic because the proverbial "they" say that a girl models her romantic relationships on her father, but that's not at all the case with me.

i grew up with an unpredictable, unstable, emotionally toxic mother whose love i wanted so desperately, i'd do anything to please her. she built up a world in which it was the two of us against the world, and no one else could be relied upon or trusted. when i decided that i had my own opinions, interests, and personality, things fell apart, and she decided that i no longer served her purposes and actively sought a replacement...many replacements, actually.

i think my relationships with guys, these three in particular, are similar to the one with my mom. once i figured out that i deserved more, and better, because i'm willing and capable to give it, i had to walk away...slowly, reluctantly, and with many backward glances.

it may have taken having that lesson slammed in my face repeatedly, and i really didn't even make the connection until a few months ago (thank you, current therapist who shall remain nameless). i think i've subjected myself to more self-inflicted pain, misery, and reflection than the average bear, but it took over 22 years to really break away from my relationship with my mom and decide that it wasn't healthy for me at this point in my life.

despite being smart, there are some things that i seem to refuse to give up on. i have given people chance upon chance to redeem themselves because i want them in my life, and want so badly to prove that i'm worthwhile.

just another lesson learned from mom...

release

i haven't really posted about pearl jam lately, so that's their song in the title, mostly because the lyrics contain the word 'pain', and release from pain would be a really good thing right about now. i'm so frustrated because i'm trying to stay positive and on an even keel. i've got a good little medication cocktail for the depression worked out; i even had my diagnosis downgraded from severe to moderate. but with the pain i've been dealing with, it's really difficult. i do *not* want to bitch and moan all the time, but chronic pain is just that: with you all the time.

it's gotten to the point where it consumes almost every minute of my day. i can't concentrate, focus, or think about anything else without factoring in how much i have to move, how much it's going to hurt, and how much i'll regret it later.

along with all those calculations, i also have to try to figure out how i can do all the things that i need to in any given day, and how many i can neglect. last night was particularly bad, and phoenix was completely freaked out because i was crying, screaming into my pillow, and pulling my hair. i have traumatized my child.

i've been getting spinal injections to control the pain. it's basically a cortisone epidural, and while the procedure isn't bad, i feel horrible afterward. the first one helped alleviate the pain for almost two weeks, but the second one made it worse. my left arm ached, the knife was lodged in my back again, and it felt like a poker was embedded in my neck and head.

after much crying, frustration, and phone calls, i saw my doctor today, who wanted to talk to me about surgery. um, i believe my sentiment to her nurse was along the lines of "HELL NO!" but i still wanted to talk to the doctor about my concerns, results, etc., so i went.

she told me that my reaction to the second injection was atypical; not surprising, as my body tends to do the opposite of what it's supposed to do most of the time. the first injection (they do a series of three) is supposed to reduce the pain by 30%, then another 30% with the second, and then another 30% with the third one.

this, obviously, didn't happen, but since the first one worked she wants to do the third. after that, if i'm still having problems i'm going to have to see a surgeon. i've talked to a few medical professionals about back surgery, and everyone has strongly "urged" me to refrain. usually, they fuse your vertebrae together, then the surrounding vertebrae take up the slack, then *they* need surgery, and so on. no thank you, to the snowballing back surgeries.

however, what my doctor said was that i wouldn't have anything fused. a surgeon would do a minimally invasive procedure to "clean out" all the goop (i have no idea what the medical term is) that's poking around, sticking out, whatever and messing with my pinched nerves. apparently the bulging is incredibly bad (that's what she said), and the severity of the pinching may be what caused the bad reaction to the second injection.

in addition to this, i'll be starting an interdisciplinary pain management out patient program next week, three days a week from 8am to 3pm. needless to say, i'm pushing back my qualifying exams, which i really don't want to do but i'm completely useless at this point, and can't be in constant pain and taking pain killers daily (i'm up to percoset at this point).

the program will consist of physical therapy, occupational therapy, swimming, education about chronic pain, biofeedback, and relaxation techniques. and if the pain isn't reduced by this program, at least i'll be better equipped to deal with it on a daily basis.

fantastic.

i'm not as freaked out about surgery now, knowing that nothing will be soldered together with metal, and if they need to go in and vacuum all that crap out for me to feel better, i'm all for it. it'll take a few weeks to recuperate (i don't know the exact amount of time), but i'll worry about that later.

for now, i'm going to focus on what will essentially be my job for the next five weeks: reducing my pain so that i can feel like human again.

the boxer

an old song by simon and garfunkel.

sitting in the house for almost an entire week made me start feeling like a veal waiting in a pen, fattening up for the slaughter. not that i sat in a cage, eating non-stop, but i definitely started feeling lethargic and sentient.

between that, not exercising for several months because of my back, and seeing 'the fighter' yesterday (btw, go see it), i am ready to get moving! i've been really afraid to do anything requiring physical exertion because i'm in enough pain just living and breathing.

i'm feeling really motivated to be more active than i have been able to be...we'll see how long this lasts...but at least for now i'm going to take advantage of this energy and do what i can, all the while being mindful of my back. i'm gonna start with the eliptical, yoga, and water aerobics.

i have my second spinal injection tomorrow. i was petrified last time, and having the sadistic b*tch who repeatedly tried to shove an IV in my hand *didn't* help. but now i'm like, "let's go!! how many can we do at once? can you just shoot something in my spine to fill up ALL the holes at once?!?" my chiropractor had a good laugh at that today.

i actually miss running, i'm not sure if i'll ever be able to do it again, but i'll do what i can for now. i'm starting to panic about my exams, and i definitely need a stress outlet. boxing would be the perfect outlet.

mental note, ask doctor about likelihood of me boxing...

not all me

and alanis again...

despite being cooped up in the house last week, i still felt pretty good emotionally. i was okay physically, too, until about wednesday or thursday. the past few days have been up and down because i heard that someone (in the last year or so) has been saying a lot of crap about me that isn't true.


this would be hurtful enough of its own accord, but i went out of my way to keep "our" personal business to myself, for the most part. plus, this was someone who knew (knows) a lot of personal information about me, and not only threw it in my face, but made not-so-subtle references to it in FB statuses. awesome.

i'm now beginning to understand why some people that i met last summer looked at me like i'd crawled out from under a rock. i wasn't just being paranoid!

i've also been thinking that maybe when i am happy, i shouldn't shout it from the rooftops, because within a matter of a few days, i seesaw back the other way.

maybe that's just the way of the world; things are constantly in flux and go up and down, but it'd be nice to have a really long set of good days to string together. i know that i shouldn't let things like this get to me. i can't control anyone else, and i can rest assured that i *tried* to do right by the other person in the above mentioned situation.

for the most part, i've learned to let go of this kind of thing, but when it's someone close to me, and my "friends" don't find out the real deal, but instead treat me like a leper, it's a little more difficult to shake off.

i'm also feeling lonely; i sometimes don't think that there are a lot of people i can count on consistently. things seem to be sporadic, and i've found myself wanting to run away somewhere, a lot, the past few days. it's not an answer, the problems would go with me and manifest in a different form. if i can't count on a lot of people in a city in which i've lived almost 30 years, running to some beach somewhere probably isn't going to be stocked with long lost friends.

i've been taking things personally lately that i don't know if i should be. i guess my thought is that the only common denominator between all these different situations/feelings is me.

i don't know, maybe i should focus on what i need to, and not worry so much about what other people do.

21 things

since one of my reasons for writing this blog is to let people who are in my life know me a little better, here are 21 (somewhat interesting) facts about me. i also used another alanis song title for this entry because it was the first one i thought of that fit.

1. i still miss my grandfather, over 21 years after he passed away. i think of him everyday.
2. i'm so left handed that i have to start any activity with my left side. i put my pants on left foot first; same with shoes, jacket, shaving my legs, climbing stairs, tying my shoes, and doing my makeup.
3. i tweeze my eyebrows at stop lights to kill time. i think it makes the lights turn green faster, too.
4. i try not to use the words "always" and "never".
5. when i was born, i had blue eyes and black hair. when i was a baby, my eyes turned hazel, and my hair fell out and grew in blond.
6. i love to cook and bake.
7. my favorite number is 6, and my favorite color is pink.
8. i *hate* green bananas. they need to be bordering on rotten before i can eat them...and then i love them.
9. if i was forced lose any one of my senses, it would be taste.
10. i would never get a boy's name that i'm dating/involved with/married to tattooed on me, but i have five tattoos for a certain band.
11. to date, i haven't been married, engaged, or pregnant. i didn't even live with a boyfriend till i was almost 32.
12. i've had migraines since i was 19. the pain was so bad, i thought i was having an aneurysm.
13. i would love to learn how to play the cello.
14. i'm a terrible liar.
15. if i'm not laying down when i have blood drawn, i faint. i also have to be tattooed laying down or else i'll want to faint...or throw up.
16. i'm pretty sure there's a ghost in my apartment.
17. i had my appendix out when i was 29.
18. i love books. i didn't give any away until i was 27 and moving out of state, and realized that 50% of the boxes were books.
19. i lived in a lot of cities with the word "san" in the name: san antonio, san marcos, san jose, and i almost 30 residences.
20. my earliest memory is falling face first into a pond when i was about 2.
21. i have a rainman-like memory for dates, anniversaries, and birthdays.

low light

so, blog title is a pearl jam song. i could link the lyrics, but i'm really just writing to do it and i'm too tired to make the effort. *sorry* just to sum up this week:

trapped in the house since last friday night due to stomach virus, then apocalyptic ice conditions.

due to said ice, i have needed (and can't do) the following:

- RETURN MY OVERDUE F-ING LIBRARY BOOKS
- bathe my disgustingly filthy child (poor thing)
- wear anything other than flannel or sweat/yoga pants. i feel like i should be at an indigo girls concert or a bikram)
- move out of a 100 feet radius
- buy supplies for my valentine's card
- buy stamps
- go to the doctor at the pain management clinic who is supposed to verify that pain isn't making me suicidal
- get my super cheap laser hair removal done (groupon deal)
- go to guitar class
- go to the chiropractor's
- get my dissertation proposal done
- get grayson's vaccine
- take out the trash (yeah, it's on the patio; classy)
- not risk my life everytime i take phoenix outside due to a potential slip and fall
- have a 5 minute break from my children

i need a vacation, a dose of eddie, something!!
i have been able to listen to a lot of music, though; very nice.

and my second injection is tomorrow; wish me luck and a pain-free IV.

that's all i can think of for now, but viva la YIELD!! happy 13th birthday to one of my favorite albums (i'm old, they're albums, not CDs).

2/3/98

"don't you think you ought to rest?
don't you think you ought to lay your head down?
don't you think you wanna sleep?
don't you think you ought to lay your head down tonight?
don't you think you've got enough?
don't you think you've got enough, well maybe?
don't you think it's time to stop?
there's time enough for you to lay your head down tonight."

you learn

let's hear it for alanis.

this is a post that's mostly for me, so doubtful that anyone else will really care.

i've been reading for exams (shocker) and i just read a chapter on postmodernism. if you haven't studied the humanities in depth, this term probably means absolutely nothing to you. and you probably don't care.

simply, shortly, and semi-accurately: postmodernism is an ideology that attempts to dissolve the lines between high and low culture and throw out the metanarrative, in order to reject cultural elitism. basically, forget the cannon and the "classics" because they were chosen by men, yes men, in power, a long, long time ago. and arbitrarily at that.

essentially, what i've learned and can apply to my dissertation/exams: everything is based on power and capitalism; there is *nothing* that is new; a class system will always be in place, regardless of the group; the world is based on a binary, and there must always be an "Other"; lots of things that we are supposed to hold sacred were chosen because some rich white dude liked them.

oh, and authenticity is really important, but subjective.

see, told you you wouldn't care. can i have my phd now?

growin' up

i haven't posted in a few days because i had some kind of stomach bug/virus. sucked. so, i i'll use a bruce/eddie cover song as my title.

i feel like i bitch a lot in this blog, but at least i'm getting rid of what's bothering me and not carrying it around, and no one is forced to read it, so...

when the hell are girls going to grow up? once i was out of my 20s and could look back with a somewhat objective eye, i decided that most girls in their 20s are straight up crazy. for the most part, they are. i was one of those girls, i know. guys in their 20s have their own slew of issues, but girls have the crazy market cornered.

okay then, i'm closer to 40 than 30 now (ouch), and i still have these stoopid girls in my life who act like they're 14. granted, these girls are mostly younger than me (they may all be younger than me), but i'm still dealing with maturation retardation. yeah, i just made that up.

younger, but they're *not* 14.

at some point in my adult life, i figured out that not everyone you know is going to be your friend for the rest of your life. well, i actually knew that i when i was about 15, but after that...a few years later...i came to the realization that just because you've known someone for a long time, it doesn't necessarily mean you're going to be friends forever.

in fact, it's sometimes to your detriment to do so, so just throw that BFF collage away right now.

people change, grow up, grow apart, and a long relationship isn't indicative of a healthy one that you should maintain. hell, you don't keep a boyfriend forever, and most girls tend to give *lots* more time, attention, and importance to boyfriends than to friends, so why keep some dumb girl (who won't carry heavy stuff and beat up dudes to protect your honor) in your life?

obviously not necessarily the way i live my life, or i wouldn't have such a bad back.

when you decide to end a friendship, for me, at least i just let it die out and end naturally. i don't pitch a fit, or scream "i'm leaving!" because at that point, all you're trying to do is get attention. i'd rather just slip out the side door, quietly. i used to do that with boyfriends, and yes, you get attention, but testing people is never the way to go.

so these aforementioned chicks and their childish, vindictive, mean girl attitudes needs to go. if you stop being friends with someone, that doesn't mean it's okay to talk shit about them to other people or to make their lives difficult. actually, i *do* know a guy that does this, and he is *entirely* too old to act like this.

and yes, i'm guilty of doing dumb things and hurting people's feelings, but i've learned to really *try* not to intentionally hurt people that i care about. if i stop being friends with someone, but we have mutual friends, i don't talk about the former friend, and then when pushed, i'm as diplomatic as possible.

just let it go. move on, have some self-respect. most times, less is more. that goes for emotions, too.