“Accidentally on purpose…”

the attention just encourages her..

Month: July, 2014


I have gone through the gamut of emotions and thoughts regarding writing. My writing. Me being a writer. I worried I couldn’t write anymore. I would decide I had nothing worth writing. I feared my severe pain in my hands was the end of my writing. I would be indifferent. I still had moments though. Those moments only writers have.

I need to write because my crazy demands it. Every moment of silence of voice or words, deals a killing blow to my sanity, self-esteem and identity. I don’t want fame. That idea has always annoyed and terrified me. If I write a book that ends up on a bookstore shelf no one will know I wrote it. I’ll never be on par with the likes of Neil Gaiman or John Green, so I would feel no obligation to fans I would not have. For all my vanity, fame is abhorrent to me and seems the most horrible form of self absorption I can imagine. Maybe this opinion is just a self conscious protection. Protecting myself from failure. After all, I am very proud of my great friend when she has a writing accomplishment. Maybe because I see her as the kind of writer the world needs. She has talent and great stories to tell that need to be heard.

Still I need to write. This is my goal.

I would like to hermit and stop dealing with trying so hard in every damn way with everyone and every damn thing. I’m a nice person. I want to be kind, helpful, there to listen, I have heavy things to beat people who do my loved ones wrong, I try to cheer people up, I try to be fun no matter how I feel inside, I try not to complain when I am sick, I try to find ways to do things even if it hurts my hands or my back or my shoulder and I try not to complain, I change to be better….I do all this while fighting a plethora of mental disorders every minute of the day. Literally. (yes I mean that as it is defined)

I can’t take a break though. GISHWHES starts soon. I also have other social things and well, I care about people too much to just go off the radar without warning regardless of whether or not anyone cares if I give any warning or go off the radar. So here it is. After the boat party on the 9th, I’m off. Way off unless you call me. For at least a week.

I am changing and it is a good thing.



the green light

I wish it didn’t hurt to do so many things with my hands. I keep wanting to write in my journal, paint for the fuck of it, play my violin, do what I say I think I can do, not let anyone down including…especially myself. Yeah, weird I know, but I actually do have pretty high fucking standards for myself and yes I have tried, almost 15 years I’d say, to be more realistic for myself, retrain my brain. The best I can do is not do the big bad things that make it easier to cope with failure but land me in the psych ward as an even bigger failure. *insert vicious cycle*

Luckily I can type for a fair amount of time and even longer if I take breaks and do nothing or other things with my hands that don’t cause pain for awhile, which works because I have a lot of things to be doing throughout the day. I want to write a memoir of sorts. It would be a fair amount of made up shit for where I have lost memories or details so with that in mind and knowing the life I’ve lived, I think I could put together something interesting. I never saw my life as overly entertaining until recently while telling random stories to a good friend who laughed a lot and seemed genuinely intrigued at times. For the record though, do not expect to see anything close to my actual name on a book anywhere ever or me meeting people or signing things. Saw a chick doing that on TV and realized it is not for me.

In other news my identity crisis continues since retiring ‘Sugar Girl’. I’ll wait til GISHWHES ends and reboot everything, maybe even my FB. I want to spend less time wasting time. I want to talk in person, on the phone or even through actual text rather than being glued to FB chat and AIM for the social interaction I really do crave.

Still on the great adventure that is called ‘lifestyle change’. No I’m not going to quit drinking and generally misbehaving. Let’s not get carried away here. I’m doing a lot of little things currently to start being more healthy. In just a day or so of eating better and cutting out the junk again I feel so much better. I like healthy food. I like being in motion. What could be better than getting healthy dancing most of the day and never feeling that over indulged heaviness that comes with trying to clear a plate the size of fucking Rhode Island? So I have let my husband know that I am done eating off the big plates and he bought me a cool little boombox because the under cupboard stereo is junk. Vitamins, coconut oil in my black coffee, snacking on fruits during the day (i don’t usually have much of an appetite), drinking lots of fruit infused water all day, dancing from room to room with my little boombox and eating much smaller dinner portions should have me feeling even better in no time.

Other things are going on. We are getting help from someone at a non-profit for people living on the Autism spectrum because there is no doubt that Chris has Aspergers syndrome. Things were bumpier than normal at first and I’m still coming to terms with things in my head where this is concerned. We have an appt with a counselor who has experience with Aspergers in older adults and she seems like she might be a good fit and she wants to help us if she can. She was obviously intrigued by the fact that he and I have lived the past decade under the assumption that my crazy was causing all the problems and now we know Chris has his own issue, so the fact that we have acknowledged this and my honesty about my crazy really surprised her. She at first described it as things being my fault then we found out it was his and I politely corrected her so she knew that we want to work together on these things and we are trying to not place blame. I’m broken, he is a variant. That is how I see it and it is basically true. Hopefully this is the light in the dark hallway I have been looking for.

I want to go outside today. Looks like the kind of day where my sunsickness wouldn’t bother me.

I have 2 sports bras now and I have no idea what to think of this. I needed them. My head keeps thinking that at some point I swore I would never be the kind of person that wore a sports bra.

this is currently my favorite song…


(picked that one because of a lack of advert, enjoy)


“I may not have been sure about what really did interest me, but I was absolutely sure about what didn’t.”

My therapist is mostly useless but it is best I keep seeing her for reasons you’d have to be wackado to understand.

I almost walked out of my last appt ready to leave with a hearty fuck you you fucking fuck. I stayed. I waited. We left.

My love/hate relationship with summer is starting to wear on me and so is everything else.  I was going to put away my electronic vampire but then the husband started playing video games. So much for the one thing my therapist insisted on that i really agreed with and NEED.

I’m really trying to talk less, not because the wackado said to but because no one can hurt my feelings by ignoring me if I’m not talking. The problem being, my husband doesn’t read ANYTHING I post on FB and I have a terrible memory so I forget to tell him things or I randomly remember to tell him things because I know he didn’t see it where I posted it to help me not forget it. It is this annoyingly vicious circle.

In other news. I’ve decided to become an evil villain. No fancy costume. Not like some kind of weird Kick-Ass obsession. Nothing like any of that. Something far more real, something more like picking myself up and dusting off the footprints and maybe not being so motherfucking nice every minute of every damn day.

In all seriousness though, I feel like my brain is actually allowing changes to occur in my personality. My preferences are less predictable and more fluid. Most obvious is the undeniable fact that I am finally maturing in some ways. Try as I might to fight it.

I can’t listen to this damn video game another minute. It would have been nice to have some warning but who cares right?