(i can't) enjoy the silence...

normally, i'm okay by myself.  i've lived alone for the majority of my adult life, but oddly enough, i've lived with at least one other person (other than phoenix and grayson) for the last year and a half.  now i don't.



well, phoenix and grayson are here...until grayson's attempt to assassinate phoenix edges closer to success, then it's buh-bye kitty.  not really, but if i don't threaten him, he doesn't have an excuse to try and shred the carpet, and then he loses his sense of purpose and life goals.

it's really quiet in here. i used to have to have music or the tv on all the time, but i got into the habit of having them off and not being uncomfortable because i didn't need the noise.  i felt good in my skin, doing my thing, without having a distraction that was clouding my thoughts. i could focus without *trying* not to hear what was in my head.

then, i got into the habit of being alone with someone else, in the quiet. i had never really done that before; there was always some form of distraction most times that we interacted.  i'm just now realizing that. however, in this new world, i could at least *feel* the presence of another person, and didn't crave the sound of a laugh track in the background that would force conversation.

now that person is gone...by my choice...and i know with every ounce of my being (what a cliche) that it's the right, and best, thing to do.  being with someone who's not only incredibly emotionally unhealthy, but also tears me down and resents my very existence because i've managed to do something with my life, and NOT exist solely as a drug addict, is NOT someone i want to be with.

imagine how that person would behave when i do something noteworthy, like work on my education, pay off my car, or love something someone else, like a dog, for instance.  how can anyone be jealous of phoenix? have you seen him? if he were any sweeter, he'd be lollipop, and i'm sorry, but someone who's been with me *every* minute of *every* day for almost nine years deserves not only an incredible amount of loyalty, belly rubs, and cookies, but a prize for "the longest-extended-stay-with-an-insane-person-without-succumbing-to-such-insanity" award.

nor do i deserve to be treated so badly by anyone, and why the hell would i want to be with someone like that in the first place?  anyway, that's an entire blog by itself.

"sometimes i guess there just aren't enough rocks..."

i can't stand the quiet right now.  it sounds strange, but it reinforces the fact that i'm alone...not alone, lonely.  there were a lot of times when i was with him and even lonelier than i am now, but i guess i could somehow, in my warped mind, figure out a way to spin it into something else, or have hope that it was just a moment, a phase, that there was *something* i could do that would make him realize that he has potential and goals, and that even if no one else in the entire world thinks he's worthwhile, i'm willing to love him as much as i can, if he'd just do three things: be nice, tell me the truth, and respect me.

i think those are pretty basic, required elements in any relationship.  was i asking for too much?

when i'm out, sometimes i just *want* to be home because it's comfortable, and i can eat cookie dough without people staring, and wear sweatpants 24/7, if i want to...but after awhile being home alone is starting to feel like solitary confinement to me. i'm trapped in a box with limited options, and because i am the way i am, i don't reach out, i don't speak, i withdraw, and i wither.

what's even worse is that i can't really listen to music right now, either. so much has been going on emotionally that the songs i like make me cry, and i mostly listen to songs with sad lyrics anyway, so i'm pretty much screwed.  i also associate songs with time periods, and i don't *want* to remember most of the right now. i don't want to ruin my music...so i have the tv on pretty much allll the time, even when i'm sleeping.   i've re-watched almost all five seasons of 'mad men' in less than a week.

it's netflix all night long...even if i wake up, and the tv show/movie i was watching is over, i pick another one.  i can't tell you how many charles manson documentaries i've watched...someone with some sense of sanity and desire to sleep would just close her eyes and drift off, or watch something that *isn't* about mass murderers.  not me.  i can't fall back asleep in the quiet...that's when the wheels start to spin.

in the last six or eight months, i started taking showers after always taking baths...my entire life...and now i'm back to baths because i have to be able to hear the tv.  i can't even handle twenty minutes of relaxing under a steaming stream of water without getting anxious.

hell, i drag my laptop into the bathroom and hook it up to the stereo so it's loud enough.  i don't think i want to hear what's going on in my head because i don't want to deal with it, most of which i already have, but somehow, i seem to need to masochistically process it yet again.

having someone who's intermittently in your life, in an unhealthy way almost always, who's on the brink of self-destruction and buried in self-hatred is horrible.  i've mourned this person's life, and anticipated his death, countless times.  it's exhausting, but i feel responsible in some way for keeping him from completely disintegrating.

i've felt like his lifeline too many times and for too long to just shut it off, especially when i know that that's the worst thing i could do...because he won't learn. there will never be a cliff too high to fall from.  there will never be a depth too low to sink to.  every one of his painful, humiliating, self-defeating behaviors will be blamed on my absence.

to him, i'm a traitor.
to me, i'm trying to thrive, instead of just surviving.

i know it's not my job, but i also know that there's no one left to care for him...not really.  too many bridges have been burned, and it's too late to salvage much of anything.  letting go of hope is one of the most difficult things to do, but i think that's what i'm trying to ignore...because i know it must be done, and i don't want to.  i don't know how let someone just suffocate under the weight of his own existence.

as cold as some people may think that i am, it couldn't be further from the truth.  it never seems to occur to people, even those who know me, that there are reasons i put up walls...there are reasons i don't let you in...there are reasons i run away...and it's not because i'm heartless or cruel.  it's self protection, plain and simple.  i'm more sensitive than almost anyone could realize, and letting down someone i love, being crushed, not doing my absolute best, sends my self-worth into a spiral, so sometimes it's safer just to hide.

people are going to believe what they want, so you might as well do what's good for you, anyway.

the voice in my head that tells me that this situation is completely unfixable, there's no hope, nothing left to lose, every reason to let go.  it's like living a small death - the death of hope and possibility - every time i think about the fact that he has no one, no money, no place to go, no real friends, no future because every time something good comes together, he tears it to shreds that much harder...i can't breathe.

you'd think that after this long, the voice would have become soundless white noise, but it's so loud i want to scream...so i turn on another sound...a sound of someone else's life that i can deal with, for now...it may not be mine, but it will let me avoid looking into the eyes of a death i cannot fathom or imagine...for just a little while longer...


"i'll never understand my heart..."

daughter

so yeah, i'm about to just say fuck the world because i'm doing my best to keep my shit together, to not freak out, to do everyfuckingthing in my life on my own as far as taking care of myself, and someone who i thought loved me (and i'm not talking about a boyfriend or some random friend; this person is related to me by blood) said something that was so hurtful and heartless that i'm not really sure what to think.

i'm not a negative person, i really *do* have a lot of things in my life that make me happy, but i don't often blog about them because what am i gonna write? today was super!

how boring, and i don't tend to analyze why i'm happy. i go with it, relish the moment(s), and that's about it. if something out of the ordinary happens that is huge, positive, and unexpected, i *will* write about it...rarely...but the thing i really need to hash out is what i want to improve in my life.

plus, this person doesn't understand why i care about anything that i care about, so why mention it? so he can zone out while i describe in wonderment how i met eddie vedder, and talk about how fun pj20 will be? he doesn't get it, doesn't care.

yes, please ignore me when i talk about what matters most.

anyway, i know it's in my best interest to not let things like this get to me, but i'm already beyond stressed and working my best to take care of all my responsibilities, problems, and needs on my own without drowning. i don't have a lot of support, and it's easy to sit on your high horse of judgment when you have a spouse, a secretary, a full time job, a benefits package, and family to help you out.

i don't have any of those, despite my best efforts (and i'm a student, but that's my fault), and none of my family lives within a 200 mile radius. it amazes me that people who know what i've been through and can empathize and see how hard i bust my ass to keep my shit together tell me that i'm strong and resilient, and this person, who can't even pretend to sympathize with having debilitating depression that forced me to be hospitalized and on medication, thinks that i'm a glutton of self pity.

trust me, if i were to wallow in self pity, i would be dead.


"the picture kept will remind me..."

change (in the house of flies)

yep, another fucking blog with the word change in it. that's really not what's been going on today, but what a great song.

what's really going on is booooooooredom. holy hell, i can't take it. i think the biggest contributing factor is my medication. so, here's the deal: i take 400 mg of one of my meds a day. if i go down to 300 (there is no 350 option), i'm bordering on mopey. at 400, i'm bordering on manic. i can work out two hours a day if i want, i have to make myself eat, i end up taking three ativan instead of two to avoid anxiety issues (the prescription is written for three a day, but i haven't needed the third one till they upped this other stupid medication), i can't sleep, i've lost weight, and i have to sit on my hands so i don't rip off my cuticles.

i don't have a psychiatrist for the summer, so i'm kind of on my own here, *plus*, i got a 90 supply of all my medication for the summer, and my prescription is for 400 mg capsules (used to be a handful of 100 mg caps a day, so i had options), so unless i'm gonna open one up and pour part of it out, i'm screwed for the next 83 days.

another reason for boredom: NO money. i can't afford to do *anything*, nothing, i'm not exaggerating. paying the rent in july? that's going to be a miracle. i've never been this broke in my entire life. it's beyond frustrating and a long story.

and the pool is closed for repairs, and it's 95 degrees outside, i have the attention span of a fly right now (a ha! there's the fly reference!). FML.

anyway, back to bored...and restless. i can't sit still. i did an hour on the elliptical tonight, lifted weights, did crunches, and i still could've ridden my bike ten miles and been okay. i didn't because i would've died of heat exhaustion.

i'm not sure what to do because i can't *stand* being bored, and it's not like i can focus and read or study or do anything remotely intellectual or educationally productive (horrible phrase, work with me here) because the restlessness kicks that to the curb.

so what do i do? i exercise, pace, drink...mostly water, but sometimes rum, do push ups, clean out closets and drawers and cabinets, take deep breaths, chew on the inside of my mouth, keep grayson from killing phoenix. but mostly, i think about how bored i am, so bored that i can't even think of anything fun to do at home. i've been watching tv, which i haven't done much of in months, but i have to pause it and get up every seven minutes.

i have so much useless energy and nothing to do with it. i can only do the elliptical for so long before i, guess what? get bored! i don't know if my back can handle running, and walking sucks. i know that a lot of this contradictory, and that's exactly how it feels in my brain and my body: wires crossed everywhere.

i don't wanna to go down to 300 mg because i do *not* want to feel depressed, nothing even remotely in the same ballpark as that bitch. this other option isn't so fun, but with everything else that's going on, i'd rather be high as a kite than hiding razor blades.

other than all that, i'm trying not to do stupid things that get me in trouble, which is what i usually do when i'm bored because at least *then* it's exciting. i don't know if that's working out so well...

i texted someone tonight that i said i wouldn't. i didn't take a blood oath or anything, just told myself it would be a bad idea. oops. it took like three days of thinking about it before i did it, so i wasn't completely irrationally spontaneous. still, oops.

and even worse: he misses me, he's thinking about me, he's thinking about things we used to do together, he wants to see me, blah blah blah.

yeah, back to the gym and hide the phone...

a praise chorus

i don't normally listen to jimmy eat world, but thank you ipod, for something that resonated with me today.

for whatever reason, i'm not going to question it, i'm feeling really good today. good...what a trite, overused word. i teach SAT prep classes, i should have a more extensive vocabulary. i feel wonderful, spectacular, peaceful, giddy...okay, enough adjectives.

i still have all the same problems that i had yesterday, but i've made several proactive moves in an attempt to alleviate my situation, which is reassuring, even though nothing has changed. at least i feel like i have some semblance of power in a powerless situation, and i asked for help, which isn't easy for me. i figure since i'm feeling delightful today, i'd relish it and embrace the practice of mindfulness.

too much of my life has been spent on worrying about past mistakes, or wondering what the future will bring, instead of just living wisely and presently in the moment. i've gotten much better at this, to the chagrin of some of my friends, because it's almost impossible for me to plan anything that happens more than a week in the future.

i've shut off my brain's ability to think past the next few days (even when it comes to school and goals), so the accusations and insinuations about my "expectations" that other people have foisted upon me couldn't be further from the truth. i'm doing my best to experience the day i'm in. it may be bad or good, but for every bay day, i try to learn something, and for every good day, i am grateful for what i have been given.

buddhists believe that life is basically misery...sadly, that's what drew me to it...however, an individual's goal is to identify what is causing the misery, decide how to get rid of it, and then banish it from his world. still working on that...anyway, learning from today is key.

one thing that i took away from the pain management program that has been immensely helpful, and changed both my perspective and my ability to handle stress, is the art of breathing. it's so easy, and something that i think gets overlooked 99% of the time. the best thing you can do to feel calm when you're overwhelmed, stressed, or anxious is to breathe.

i mean think about it, what is your breathing like when you're freaking out, having a panic attack, or ready to rip someone's head off? not too slow or soothing.

it sounds like a cliche, but it works. if you focus on breathing, slowly, evenly, in and out, you slow down mentally and physiologically. i've had days where i literally thought about my breathing for the entire day. every time i'd start to panic, i'd just focus on inhaling and exhaling, and not letting anything else in.

this is my praise for today: a day of serenity and pleasure. just take a deep breath; things will be better.

weight of it all

matt nathanson...

i'm not sure what is going on, but this week i have *very* little ability to deal with anything good or bad, mostly bad. actually, i know part of what's going on: new moon, two months worth of SAT lessons and prep in a total of *maybe* 24 hours (which is an intellectual mind suck, to say the least), two days of training, very little sleep, lots of things on my mind, figuring out my new work schedule, stressing about the loss of my insurance, grayson almost broke my foot this morning, nerves are still acting up, i'm wondering if my 90 supply of meds will get here before my current supply runs out, trying to plan my research trip, and i can't remember *anything* and i need to make decisions that affect other people, so having some semblance of intellect or ability to plan/decide would be very helpful.

jesus, what next?

i can deal with a *lot* of shit, but i'm just burned out. i need about a 72 hour nap...straight through...no getting up, no dealing with the kids or FB or drama or parents or work or thinking or moving or pain or planning or money problems or emotions or scheduling.

what's strange is that i'm not worrying about a lot of those things because there's absolutely nothing i can do. i am powerless to control 99% of what happens in my life. i have thrown my proverbial hands up in the air. all i can control is myself.

however, my emotions are still there, i can't shut them off. the best i can do is refrain from acting out negatively. however, they've been weighing on me enough that i can barely stand up...i need to lay down.

i'm exhausted, i need a vacation, a break from reality. i was supposed to be out of town this week, and that fell the hell apart, so now i have to wait until july 5th.

awesome.

i may not make it.

i'd go to bed now, but it's night 2 of 3 of celebrating the bestie's birthday and i can't miss it. plus, the stupid fucking mavericks are playing and i can't miss that. fine, bed at 11, sleep till i meet my friend at 1:30 tomorrow?

i wish.

(your head holds gold) your heart holds diamonds

in keeping with the theme of song titles for blog titles, this is a bob schneider song, but good luck finding the lyrics. they're nowhere online.

yep, i wrote a few weeks ago, and thought that i'd keep it up, but there have been a few things going on that i didn't really want to write about, that i needed time to process, and didn't want to share. i'm still processing...

there are a lot of things going on in my head right now. in a way, i feel like i'm coming to a crossroads. i'm not a TA for the summer, starting tomorrow my insurance will be on hiatus until september 1st, i started a new job, i'm supposed to be studying for my qualifying exams (that is increasingly difficult), and i'm doing research for my dissertation.

add to that the fact that i'm really burned out on school, i'm increasingly unhappy living in dallas, and i'm tired of constantly scrambling for money.

another issue is that without insurance, i have to cut back my visits to my therapist. luckily, it only costs about $40 to see her without insurance. however, my stupid insurance has refused to commit to a contract with her office, and they won't pay for my visits at all, anymore, ever. fantastic.

the thought of not seeing my therapist creates a lot of anxiety for me. she's one constant in the last year and a half of my life, and unlike every other person who knows me, an objective voice. even though i've unloaded a lot of emotional baggage, i'm still trying to solidify some of the skills i've been working on.

boundaries, boundaries, boundaries.

anyway, i'm doing a lot of introspection about the choices i make and my seemingly lackadaisical ability to refrain from acting on emotions that are unhealthy...which then lead to bad decisions. i've always been one to lead with my heart, not my head. but that stupid organ has failed me too many times to be trusted, by seeking instant gratification, or not considering consequences and after effects.

i don't know, how *do* you turn off your feelings? i don't think it's possible. in the past, i would just avoid acting on them, find distractions, let them die out on their own, write a list of reasons to rationalize an emotional situation. it works pretty well...for a while.

logic and reason only go so far when applied to affection.

it's always (and i don't use that word lightly) been hard for me to let go. i thought i had it *somewhat* mastered.

so, what to do? i'm still trying to figure that out.

monkeywrench

wow, so i haven't written in about three and a half months. i can't believe it's been that long, especially since i was writing almost every day. things got busy, i was doing a lot to relieve my back/chronic pain, but things were mostly smoothed out, sailing along, and i didn't make writing a priority. i was too busy living my life, content and satisfied.

i felt so much better physically, mentally, emotionally. i've come to terms with a lot of things and made progress by leaps and bounds this year, as far as personal goals i set for myself.

now, i'm really regretting not keeping us with this blog, because if anything, looking back on things is a way to avoid making the same mistakes again, and a way to refresh your memory about all those things that were good, that make you happy and proud.

i realize that for every accomplishment or step forward, regression and a few steps backward are par for the course. in my experience, things will progress fantastically for a while, and then there will be a bump (or a fucking landmine) in the road, and it feels like everything has gone to shit. i get thrown off course.

one big improvement is that my recovery time has shortened drastically. i get upset, i give myself a certain amount of time to grieve and wallow, then i do what i know will bring me back to life and i'm back on track.

and that's basically what has happened the past few weeks, except things keep happening that prevent me from fully recovering or doing what i need to do. i have fallen off the wagon of self care and goal achievement. i'd gotten into the zone of being focused on taking care of myself, doing what i need to do, studying, exercising, socializing, eating well, *sleeping*, all the things that i know i need to do to stay sane and stable.

and then one distraction, at first glance a positive one, managed to send all of that into a tailspin of amazingly careless and self-destructive habits in a matter of weeks. i haven't been sleeping or eating. i've lost about 6 lbs. in a month, i have lacked the ability to set healthy boundaries, i've been exceedingly reckless, and i put the needs of someone else above my own (never a good thing), especially when the other party doesn't do the same.

bottom line: i feel like a fucking idiot. it's so rare to find a connection with someone, especially an instant, intense, easy connection. i found one, and i let it overtake me. i let my emotions dictate my choices and didn't stop to think about what i was doing. i didn't stop to think if what i was doing was a good choice for me. i lost sight of what i needed to do, and i lost sight of myself.

i let someone in for the first time in a long time, and now i'm wondering if it's something i'll be able to do again. i've never been one to just shut down my feelings or who i am. i want to experience all that i can and not hide. fear isn't something i experience very often.

i have so many other positive, healthy, happy things in my life that i've let fall by the wayside in such a short amount of time. i'm ashamed...

i wanted to incorporate this new part into my world, have someone to share my happiness with, have someone who *gets* what matters to me without question or judgment. this other person seemed to want that, too - making friends with mine, building a foundation for something between us, talking about the future.

i never saw it coming, but how can you ever expect betrayal when it rears its stealthy head? even if you feel a slight blip of doubt, you don't want to believe it, at least i don't. despite my cynicism, i give the people in my life countless chances for redemption, and i trusted this person. i couldn't find a reason not to; an amazing feat for me. i gave everything that i could to be a caring, loving, supportive person, and it was all for nothing.

what do i learn from this: that everyone has the potential to be a wolf in sheep's clothing? that my judgment about others hasn't improved despite my best efforts and beliefs to the contrary? that i deserve to be treated badly? that the only way to be treated well or not walked on is to walk on others?

i can't do that. i don't want to believe any of those things, and i'm not the person i used to be. i'm doing my best to be a kinder, gentler me every day, but for what? few seem to appreciate or value that version of me. kindness and understanding seems to equal gullible, deserving disrespect, a doormat.

i'm not angry, i'm numb, confused, hurt. i feel like a fool.

what's the point in trying to give someone your all when pain is the end result?

"This pair of wing's worn and rusted
From too many years by my side
They can carry me, swear to be sturdy and strong
But see, turning them on still means goodbye"

alone

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

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...

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?

changes

yes, a song title once again...

this may sound stupid, but i think i'm addicted to tv. i looooooove watching tv. it's in my genes. my parents watch a *lot* of tv; my dad not so much as when i was a kid, but still, i've had a set in my room since i was nine years old. i can't even fall asleep without it on because it drowns out all the shit in my head.

i watch entirely too much tv, it's too quiet when it's off, my apartment lacks animation and life that phoenix and grayson can't replace, and i absolutely can't miss an episode of any show that i watch, so i DVR everything.

i don't understand why i get so attached to fictional characters. granted, i realize that i'm not the only one who does this, but i was thinking about it last night. there are several tv shows that were i used to watch and were canceled or ended, and i was really disappointed every time.

maybe it's the consistency and schedule of knowing that i have something that i'm guaranteed to like, and will never let me down...unless there's a state of the union speech, or it's gonna snow, or some moron sent a bomb to a building downtown...*then* it gets interrupted, but the networks have finally realized that they need to plan for things like presidential events in advance. and they *do* show severe weather updates during commercials now, not during the show...

in the grand scheme of things, who cares about fictitious people and plots? they're not real, i'm not losing a friend, it's just a story made up by someone who's being paid to make up stories. although, every time i watch 'titanic', i'm like, "why does he have to DIE?!?" sad. just sad.

anyway, i've been trying to maintain some semblance of a schedule since the fall. because i'm done with coursework, and only have independent study classes, i was afraid that i wouldn't do anything; that my depression would suck me back in, and i'd spend six months on the couch, watching (what else?) the freaking tv.

actually, i've had a lot of things going on, and i feel very fulfilled and busy in my life. and my life is getting in the way of school. i went to a seminar/class on productive writing today, in preparation for starting my dissertation in a few months.

that is probably the most daunting thing i've written today. holy hell.

*deep breaths*

although i'm only reading and taking notes, collecting research here and there, i'm not writing yet, but the class was really helpful. i also found out that all the techniques i use to procrastinate (doing dishes, laundry, organizing, multitasking) are very common, so i don't feel like a complete slacker. and hey, my apartment is always clean. not that it was ever dirty before, but moving on...

i'm going to set up some new guidelines and structures around watching tv, reading, taking notes, and running errands. school is my primary job, and i need to treat it as such. if i don't feel good, and need to take the day off, then i better make up for it on the weekend or in the evening.

when i had classes with real life professors, i studied ALL the time. i busted my ass for school, and i need to get back to that. well, not completely, because i did nothing but study and work, but i need a focused mindset.

so bye bye shows that i really don't care about. bye bye to finding new shows just so i never run out of things to watch. bye bye stupid gossip "news" and repetitive celebrity crap. bye bye to washing clothes, cleaning cabinets, touching up the paint on my walls, and sweeping all at the same time.

qualifying exam preparation, i surrender to you. i am now at your mercy for the next ten weeks. omg, that is not *nearly* enough time...

motivated

i've been working on school stuff all day. i've done a ton of reading notes, read some, and feel really productive after three days of not being able to do anything other than go to the chiropractor, sleep in a chair, drowsily watch tv, and take a bath.

i've started stressing about my qualifying exams in the past few weeks, and i'm trying *really* hard not to worry. i really don't want to start a countdown of how many months, days, weeks, hours until i have to take them. i'm trying to focus on what i need to do now - prepare - and practice mindfulness and living in the present moment.

another struggle that i'm having today (and can't rid myself of) seems to be the fact that i'm aggravated and annoyed with almost *everyone* i've had to deal with. i don't know what's up, but i'm really tired of trying to be a good friend, trying to do what's best, and having it thrown back in my face. why ask for my help if you're going to turn around and do the exact opposite, knowing that it's the *worst* f-ing thing you could possibly do?!?

i don't understand how, or why, people will put up with such misery in order to avoid being alone. if you're by yourself, at least you know you only have to deal with one crazy, screwed up person...and you never have to share the remote.

and i have a sneaking suspicion, although i could be paranoid, that someone is spying on me again...FML.

caring is creepy

watching dexter is an illuminating experience for me, probably more so than other people. i'm pretty much convinced, fine completely convinced, that one of my ex-boyfriends is a psychopath. i was with him off and on for a long time, and i could never really understand the hold he had over me, or why i stayed until i had distance and clarity. i have a better understanding now.

for clarification, let's call my ex "A".

i know that A cheated on me relentlessly, lied pathologically, and when i was mad would say *exactly* what i wanted to hear to get me back. he even cried when needed. scarily, and sadly, i decided that he was a sociopath in 2001. we started dating in 1999, and i was with him until 2006. like i said, he had a hold over me.

in 2001, when i was working on my master's degree, i took a forensic psychology class, which i loved. one of the things that we discussed was the hare psychopathy test. when i took the class, there were 14 characteristics; the revised version now has 20.

here are the characteristics:

• glib and superficial charm
• grandiose (exaggeratedly high) estimation of self
• need for stimulation
• pathological lying
• cunning and manipulativeness
• lack of remorse or guilt
• shallow affect (superficial emotional responsiveness)
• callousness and lack of empathy
• parasitic lifestyle
• poor behavioral controls
• sexual promiscuity
• early behavior problems
• lack of realistic long-term goals
• impulsivity
• irresponsibility
• failure to accept responsibility for own actions
• many short-term marital relationships
• juvenile delinquency
• revocation of conditional release
• criminal versatility

now, A's never been married, so that one can be thrown out, and he has never been convicted of a crime as an adult, so he hasn't had a release revoked, but the rest of the traits? except for one, he pretty much has all of them.

*all* of them.

i'm not formulating my own diagnosis or trying to justify many bad decisions to stay in an admittedly bad relationship. i have a BA and MA in psychology, i worked as a group counselor and intake specialist in a psych hospital (oh, the irony), and did intensive in-home counseling for several home preservation programs. i'm not an idiot.

i started watching dexter because i heard from several people that it was a good show, and i've run out of things to watch. it's surprising that i didn't watch it sooner, because i love true crime tv shows, books, and movies. now that i've watched a few seasons, it's become more personal than i ever thought it would.

watching dexter's behaviors, many of which he narrates, has shed more light on A's way of thinking. it's also made me rethink things that he told me, like i "had more influence on him than anyone else." i believed him then, and i still do, but i don't think that i influenced him in a good way. i think he used me like he used everything else.

i was an example of how to be an emotional person, and how to be (and treat) someone in a committed relationship. not so much anymore, but when A and i were dating, i was an *extremely* emotional person. i also expressed what i wanted, liked, didn't like, thought was mean or unacceptable, and ridiculous. and i forgave him. a lot.

he has mutated over the years, and when i say "mutated" with all of the negative connotations that come to mind, that's what i mean. i think he has mutated based on what he thinks he's *supposed* to be, what clues he gathers from his environment, and what the people around him express that they want and need.

when i met A, he was 23, made a lot of money for doing not a lot of work, and had recently moved to dallas, which if you didn't know has some of the most plastic, sluttiest, looking-for-sugar-daddies girls in the world. easy pickings.

A spent a lot of money, slept around *a lot*, got a flashy car, stated that he'd never get married or even live with a girl, and didn't form one real or solid connection with anyone in the five years he lived here. he actually convinced his two best childhood friends to move down here. problem solved.

and like a sponge, i could feel A sucking my energy. he wouldn't talk unless it was something he was interested in (none of which i was interested in, but feigned), or i asked him endless questions about himself or things he liked: cars, sports. that's about it. i almost had to force conversations.

if you know me, zzzzzzzzzz. i really don't give a shit about cars and the endless specs about them. and i like sports, but how long can you discuss soccer moves? and i know *nothing* about volleyball, don't want to, never will. oh wait, there's sand, right? sometimes...

A thought it was weird that i liked to read, and couldn't understand why i wanted to further my education. he didn't want to get know himself, or his motivations, better. feelings; what are those? he treated me like i was a martian if i showed anything outside of a blank stare or happiness. he even went so far as to blame others for his despicable actions, like cheating.

he actually told me that he "didn't want to sleep with those girls." they "made" him do it. at the time, i almost threw something at him (or threw up), but now i think he may have been telling the truth, as much as was possible. A thought that these girls expected him to sleep with them. why was he in a physical location where it was possible to sleep with a bunch of other girls in the first place? another story altogether. A can't read emotion or body language, but he's a master at giving someone what they want, so even if he "didn't want" to sleep with them, he thought that he was doing what was "normal".

as he got older, he changed his viewpoints on a lot of things related to relationships. he relented on the co-habitation thing, then he decided he was up for marriage. i was the lucky recipient of the first, and in discussions for the second. he was militantly against having kids throughout all of this, however.

so, i talked to A at length a little over a year ago. it was like talking to a completely different person than the one i had known for over 10 years. he wants kids, he wants to get married asap, he wants to settle down, he just wants to find someone that he can have a deep and meaningful relationship with because everyone where he lives is shallow and vapid and no one understands him. *sob*

um, hello? who the hell are you?

i look at his facebook profile every now and then, too, and because of the privacy settings, i can't see much, which is fine by me. the one thing i can see is his favorite quotes, which really irritated me at first, now i just see it as spooky.

FIRST OF ALL, two of them are from 'into the wild'; he also had society (an eddie vedder song from the movie) as his myspace song for quite a while. if you've seen 'into the wild', my ex is *everything* that christopher mccandless was not.

he also has a quote from 'sex and the city', a quote that i TOLD him was my viewpoint about love, which he thought was ridiculous, along with other choice tidbits that are obviously geared toward creating an introspective, loving, boyfriend-type person.

oh.my.god.

i know that none of that is directed at me, but at future victims.

there are soooo many other things he has done over the years that are indicative of psychopathic tendencies, but i think the change over the years (and not the normal maturation of a man) is the worst. i feel violated, like my heart and mind were raped and photocopied, and the information was stored in A's brain to be integrated into his daily life.

here's one more example: he couldn't *stand* pearl jam when we were dating. the first time i got to shake eddie's hand, he picked a massive fight when i told him and pretty much ruined the whole experience. every time A and i broke up, i was the one to do it...all 877 times. i'd get fed up because he was an asshole, end it, and then call him a day, a week, or a month later.

i thought i had finally gotten away from him when i started dating *another* ex (i told you i recycled boyfriends). btw, this is the ex whose marriage i inadvertently ended, and this round of dating is when it happened. quite the tangled web, please try to keep up. make sure your fingers and toes are in, and place all of your carry ons under your seat.

i was dating another guy, and hadn't talked to A in six months, a RECORD!!

and then A called me, saying that he loooooved me, he wanted me back, blah blah blah. all the things he thought i'd fall for. and i told him that i was with someone else, i loved him, i was done. all that was well and good until the other guy and i broke up, and i somehow ended up talking to A, who was living about 1500 miles away at the time. he drove straight to dallas the next day, and a few days later, we were looking for something in his car and i found the entire pearl jam catalog.

what.the.hell.

when i asked him about it, he said he was listening to the CDs because he wanted to understand what mattered to me better, and he wanted to give them a chance because he knew how important the band was to me. he was trying to get closer to me. at that point, i believed him. i thought it was sweet and thoughtful, and quite the effort. now i see that he was trying another tactic to appear normal, or what he thought i expected normal to be.

when he and i lived together, it was in northern california, around the time of laci peterson's murder. one day, i realized that if i got pregnant, there was a chance that i could end up like her. i don't know if A would ever be capable of murder (never say never), but i felt that there was a very real possibility that he would get rid of a money-sucking, fun-ending child to which he bore financial responsibility for 18 years.

that's when i got out.

"...and laugh at gilded butterflies..."

i really hadn't planned on writing today. i mean, i want to maintain the consistency of it, but i've been really pensive and recuperating. i'm emotionally drained and frustrated with the reality and inconvenience of being in unrelenting pain from the simplest of tasks.

just sitting up all day yesterday, with some standing and walking here and there, caused me to get no sleep last night because i felt like my body was full of broken glass, my head, neck, and shoulders were torn up, and i was completely miserable.

after seeing to my therapist yesterday, i spent some time thinking about what i've accomplished in the last 10 or 11 months. a significant anniversary (dubious, not happy) is coming up this weekend. i'm not going to discuss that now, but i will in the next few days because it's very revealing and difficult for me, and is what *forced* me to ask for help. without that request, i would, quite literally, have been dead by now.

anyway, i've been spending this year trying to work through a lot of my issues and unburden myself of past drama and trauma. hey, that rhymed.

it's been a very trying and difficult year in many ways, lots of changes, lots of trying new habits, lots of discarding old habits, lots of digging into my psyche, lots of letting go, but also lots of grabbing on to things that are good, valid, and healthy.

i've made a lot of progress, and according to my therapist, i've really put her to work, which is what i told her i would do. when i met her in january, i vowed that i was ready to get my shit together. i wanted her to be unrelenting, and to push me as much as was needed to help me get to where i want, and need, to be.

because i can't go back to where i was before.

she said that i was very determined, and that i stood up for myself and for my treatment. i demanded to be helped, a major accomplishment for me. i'm not one to ask for help. in the past, asking for, and receiving, help had a price: a taunting, unrelenting, vicious slap in the face as its repercussion.

in order to continue my progress in hopes of never looking back, i think i need to spend the next seven months focusing on myself and what i need to do, and not focus on what others want me to do. most of my problems have centered around my relationships (mostly with men), and how i learned to behave and react in the world.

i have had this ingrained goal (no, a destructive obsession), to please everyone else, regardless of whether it was the best thing for me, or even what i wanted. this needs to stop, and it very rapidly is grinding to a halt.

what i learned growing up, and in my primary relationship, needs to continue to be phased out, because it colors and controls every action i've made. i take full responsibility for what i've done, but it's now up to me to learn how to be *my own* person, not a puppet, not the vicarious reason for someone else's existence. this may not make any sense to you, but it does to me.

i haven't really been involved with a guy since july, and i think spending the next seven months (a year in total) on me, school, studying for exams, and figuring out who i am now and what i want is the best thing. a year of drama-free, boy-less non-action is what i need. a year to phase out the frenemies and emotional vampires that will suck me dry, if i let them.

i know that i've improved my communication skills, have strengthened my boundaries while knocking down my walls, and have made huge strides in my relationship with my dad, probably the most important one in my life at this point.

i want to make him proud, and myself, too. i want to find the path to being the strong, independent, focused, loving person that i think someone tried to guide me to all those years ago.

that path was lost somewhere along the way. i want to believe in myself, to live with joy and self-respect, in a world full of promise, rather than regret.

i hope i can find the way...

run like hell

i started running again last week. i haven't really done it on a regular basis since the summer of '09 when i was running about 20 miles a week. my entire life, i have *abhorred* running. it's not that i'm not active, it's just that i would rather have my legs shaved by a blind man with 4 fingers than to sprint more than 20 feet.

ah, shaving. my least favorite thing in the world to do. if i won the lottery, first thing i'd do (no vacation, no paying off bills): laser hair removal from top to bottom (no pun intended there).

i never understood what people got out of this seemingly masochistic activity, then i hit the two mile mark, and it all fell into place...the legendary runner's high. i started this mostly painful activity because after 3 semesters of working on my phd, it was either run, become an alcoholic, become an addict, or kill someone. those were the only plausible choices, and i didn't relish the idea of rehab, jail, or becoming a murderer.

i got my master's degree pretty much with my eyes closed. i showed up to class, i figured out from the discussion what was going on, i contributed, i went home and dealt with my psychotic boyfriend. at the end of each semester, i'd crank out three 20 page papers in a week, and ta da, here's your A.

i didn't read hardly *anything* except my holocaust books (because they were interesting), and i managed to get all As, and one B (in the freaking holocaust class, of all things!). during most of this i was dealing with said psycho boyfriend, flying to colorado once a month to see him, doing an internship/TA position 50 miles from my house (one way), taking 12 hours of school, and working two jobs.

but getting your phd, at least for me, is a whole other ballgame. although i had one shitty professor tell me that it's impossible to read all that you're assigned, i did it, so take *that*, jackass. every week for four semesters, i read, studied, worked, had no life, and wrote papers.

then i had a semi-serious meltdown and reading kind of fell through the cracks for a while. but running does help me...i need the stress relief, and it really works, despite my initial misgivings. bonus, it isnt' dangerous to myself or others...well mildly dangerous to me because i have to contend with the treadmill and manage to not fall down.

but i've been running outside lately, and i like that much better than the treadmill; fresh air, nature, not feeling like a gerbil is always nice. however, there's always the possibility of the rolled ankle, getting hit by a car, frostbitten fingers. whatever.

i've also found that my state of mind and music play a big part, so i have to psyche myself up sometimes, think about how good i'll feel after i'm not sore anymore, and pick great music.

and yes, taylor swift has been motivating me for the past week. what of it? i listened to pearl jam yesterday and this morning...needed a little mutual pain, anger, and frustration to drive me, not sweet, little, naive taylor.

real music, real passion, real energy. that's my boys.

milestone

this may not seem like a big thing to most people, but i achieved what, for me, was a milestone this weekend. i've been doing promotional work for almost four years now, but for the last year and a half, it's been really hard because of my depression that kicked in during the summer of '09.

i wasn't properly treated and medicated for this bout until last december, but even still, it's been really hard to function in some areas of my life. i know i have to go to school, and i've made myself do that, even when i could barely get out of the house. i also know that i have to show up as a teaching assistant, even though i really struggled during the fall of '09 due to a lot of health issues that were probably ralated to the depression.

another problem area has been leaving the house and/or hanging out with friends. leaving the house at night has been really hard because i have all day to think about the fact that i have to get ready, go somewhere, pretend to be okay, and not want to crawl into a fetal position on the couch. i'd spend the whole day counting down the hours until i had to get ready, not doing anything else because i couldn't focus on anything but the worry.

i've never had problems with social anxiety or anything like that, but with this round of depression, i've been really isolated, even when i feel better. i think it's taken so much effort just to feel okay that i haven't had the extra energy to share it with others, if that makes sense. i've been doing everything i can to get better, and sometimes that means i don't have time for others. i'm not doing it to be selfish, but so that i can literally stay alive.

i've also had problems working promotions because i haven't been able to talk to people when i do them. in the past, i'd approach *anyone*, be friendly, talkative, but i have dreaded this job for almost a year and a half because i just couldn't handle the socialization. it's also hard to promote something when meds have your brain so fried, it's literally difficult to speak, let alone remember all the freaking selling points.

so, this weekend was a milestone for me. i was scheduled to work nascar, friday - sunday, for a total of 21 hours, and i made it all the way through. i worked every day, i actually enjoyed it for the most part, and i did my best. that may not seem like a big deal, but the racetrack is an hour's drive from my house, i had to be there at 6:30 am one day, and 7:00 the next, and the first shift was 8 hours long. i also had to talk to thousands of people, survey them, ask for personal information, give out stuff, be charming, and get hit on by rednecks. not to mention the fact that it was 45 - 55 degrees.

it means a lot to me that i pulled this off, especially with the medication change/adjustment. i woke up the third morning, and really didn't want to go. it was really cold, it was really early, and i just wanted to sleep in, but i couldn't do it. i couldn't stay home; i got up and went to work.

i was, and am, really proud of myself.