Let Me Out

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Terminal Time

Hour 1 : I would be with my husband I would never go anywhere alone. So he would get to listen to me complain and bitch and have several panic attacks about being trapped at the airport.
Hour 2 -3: I would shop. Little knickknacks that have the name of whatever city/state I am in to add to my growing collection. Plus at least 1 shot glass and hoodie.
Hour 4: My tummy would have settled enough from the stress of being trapped at the airport to grab some food and drink.
Hour 5: I’d start feeling sick again because of the food and I would go through another hour of anxiety attacks and my husband trying to keep me from going batshit crazy.
Hour 6: My body and mind would be worn out so I would likely ask my husband to tell me a story about the people he sees around us and doze off snuggled up against him.

In the end I would get on the plane which in of itself would be a miracle 😛

So Fragile

Posted in Life by

Life is fragile. Humans are born vulnerable physically to predators and illness born in the air. Birds can barely move their heads and have no feathers. Many animals are born blind in the beginning. Plants are easily stepped on, especially their fragile shoots. Everything about life is just so easily ruined at the whim of others or nature.

I’m fragile. Easily broken and torn apart. My scars and wounds slow to mend. My mind barely holding on to sanity on some days, a fragility of it’s own.

Fragile.

She’s A Vapid Whore

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Binding Judgment

Now if you have been to SoCal, you will know that a majority of people are very self involved. They think they have the right of way regardless of where they are walking or driving. In grocery stores they block the isles without thought to the people who need to pass and blatantly gossip and say hurtful things about others within hearing distance.

Is this all the people of SoCal? Of course not. I live here, I always let people by when walking on the sidewalk. I never block lanes and always say excuse me while struggling to get past those very people who I am talking about. I always give a dollar or two to the people that stand outside of stores or even homeless people. I’ve had pretty girls say things about my weight or look at me with disgust. It’s actually one of the reasons I am going back to Omaha.

It’s clouded my judgment. So much so that if there were people I could have maybe had a chance of being friends, my mind is already put them in the same place as all the mean, vapid whores who live here. (oh I’m talking about both sexes here). I wish I could think differently. It’s just too late to change my mind. I refuse to put myself out there to be mocked or hurt. I’ve never felt like I could belong here. Perhaps in the end it was the judgment of myself that put me at the disadvantage.

Home Sweet Home

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Gone with the Windfall

You just inherited $1,000,000 from an aunt you didn’t even know existed. What’s the first thing you buy (or otherwise use the money for)?

Actually this one is quite easy. There’s really only one thing that I want that would cost me a lot of money. Actually I would even consider it a need.

I want to own a home. Stability is very important to the fragile minds of the mentally ill. However all my life I’ve moved constantly. Every couple of years (sometimes less) my parents would move from house to house. Never a care of how changing schools would affect us. It created an almost transient/gypsy like need in me. I couldn’t settle down once I was on my own either. I moved from apartment to apartment and city to city. I even changed countries!

Several years ago my husband and I bought a house, it never felt like a home though. So 3 years ago when my husband said his employers were interested in him working in California I of course jumped on it. The last 2.5 years all I’ve wanted was a home. I need a home. So much that we are moving back to Nebraska. If you have any idea how beautiful SoCal is pretty much all the time and you know what living in the Midwest is, you know I am damned serious about settling down and buying a house.

So the answer to this one is easy. Buy a home outright. No loans. It also gets us the added benefit for saving towards retirement without having to pay of the 30 year loan!

What a Vision

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Dream Teacher

My parents thought I might a lawyer but I’ve always been attracted to architecture. The Roman Era stands out to me because of it’s seemed to really interlock art with structure. I’m not well taught on this sadly, but when looking at architecture to recreate when building in games, I’ve come across Apollodorus of Damascus. He create some stunning pieces. The Arch of Trajin and one of the most famous pieces, The Pantheon.

Now I really love architecture from all over the world. Rome just happens to be the very first I ever wanted to really visit and it’s on my bucket list. Being taught by someone so skilled would be a great honor. Thinking about this has again made me think about being an architect. I wish I was better at math. I have a feeling that my buildings might be like me, clumbsy lol.

Brain Dump

Posted in writing 101 by

Writing 101 – Unblock the Mind
I’m a few (5) days behind on this but I want to do it. So I will be posting this as well.
I always try to write with thought I am absolutely horrible at just letting my mind go on its own. That’s not to say that mind isn’t spontaneously creative but it takes a lot of control. To just write for 25 mins without really thinking about what I am going to write is hard. As a bipolar my mind is typically on at least 15 things, it doesn’t slow down long enough to focus on without a lot of training and medication.
I suppose that this makes me vulnerable exposing the fact that I am not good at just using flow of thought, but I want to be a writer one day. Not just an everyday blogger that rambles and spits out whatever her brain is thinking of at that moment. I want to be able to write a book. I have the premise, why can’t I put it to paper. I start writing and my brain moves on to something else. Even describing a beautiful sunset can be difficult.
Flow of thought what is that exactly do you just post whatever comes into your head? I am listening to music right now while I am writing to help me calm my brain enough to focus. I might have to start singing along eventually. I am having such a difficult time with this. When I read other people’s works it seems that they are just better at this. I’m not saying that they don’t work hard but that they just can focus on an idea.
Even having an idea is not enough to focus on it for me, I can even imagine for a few minutes where things will go, in fact with the book I am hoping to write one day I already have the full story figure out, it’s just all the words that I need to make it go there.
Not to insult the people who write 50 pages books and sell them on amazon, but I would like to go the 300 page route. I like to make things difficult for myself.
I love Air Supply. I often listen to them when I am killing zombies or doing player vs player in a game. There is something so invigorating about being able to whack something while you are bellowing out ballads. I know some people like to listen to heavier music while they do it but that just stresses me out. I try to remain low stress at all times but it is really hard to do as I worry about everything. Seriously everything. Right now as I am writing this I am worrying about 3-4 different things.
Sometimes I wish my brain would just shut the fuck up for a while and simmer down. I don’t know that it ever will. I mean I can’t fully blame my bipolarity for my inability to write my novel because I’ve seen a lot of successful bipolar writers. I think a lot of them are medicated. I currently am not. I decided that right now is a time to take a break from all the heavy medications that were poisoning my body and not really helping my mind. I can tell you one thing I don’t feel like myself, whoever myself.
I guess that is always a question I ask myself. Who am I? I feel like Zoolander staring into a puddle. It would have to be a rather large puddle to hold my face and all the question marks surrounding it. Always with the questions, even right now I am question if I can actually write for 25 full minutes, do I have enough in my brain. Oh my god I am having a hot flash, I hate menopause. Having it too early did not help either, it feels like someone is holding a branding iron like a millimeter from my chest, my entire body just immediately got soaked. I keep this house at 68 degrees and it feels like I’m in 127 with humidity.
The body was not made for removal of organs, yet I am missing my uterus, ovaries and gall bladder. I wonder what will go next? I would not be surprised if it is my appendix. Getting rid of it would give me on less worry.
I like being in hospitals, you get to relax and sleep and someone is always making sure you’re ok. You get brought all your meals which inevitably make you lose weight. If it wasn’t for all the sick people. Am I right?
The last time I was in the hospital they did a vaginal mesh, exciting right but my bladder was prolapsing and they didn’t have a choice. It was one blunder after another on the hospitals part. They had the leggings on that circulate your blood but forgot to turn the fan on, can you imagine your legs basically wrapping in plastic and there is not air getting in there. I imagine not if you haven’t had it happen. I also was not allowed to leave the hospital until I peed by myself. The problem with that they keep giving you water, plus you have your IV, and I kept trying and trying and I couldn’t go and I told them that and this went for literally hours. I was starting to hurt because I just couldn’t go. They put the catheter back in and all I hear from my nurse is oh my goodness. Apparently a bladder just isn’t supposed to hold that much. I can’t remember how much it was but it was a crazy amount. After that it worked on its own though. I’m surprised the stitches didn’t get torn. My bladder has never been the same since then. Well nothing has been the same since then honestly.
My weight continued to go up with pills for bipolarity and depression and anxiety and menopause. Then binge eating because I am so depressed I am trying to find comfort in food. I remember when I thought I was fat at 160 pounds, I would pay to be that weight again. I dunno I guess I kind of will be paying because I need to get a lapband. It makes me sad.
When I was a kid and teen I was so active, I did gymnastic every day, I ran and walked every where. I was always in motion. Now I mostly sit in front of the computer. I am trying to out at least once a day. It’s work I’ve been an agoraphobic since I was 18, I’ve had good and bad times. Now seems to be one of the better times. My body still protests it though. Giving me tummy trouble every time I go out. It’s daunting. When you fear that everyone is looking at you, you really don’t want to do anything that would actually bring that to pass.
The closer it gets to us moving back home the more stressed that I am. Wow that 25 mins passed a lot faster than I thought it would. Go me!

Reality Vs. Unreality

Posted in Life, Stories by

Breathing Room

An extra room has magically been added to your home overnight. The catch: if you add more than three items to it, it disappears. How do you use it?

When I first read the Daily Post today my head automatically filled with an answer. It was a super easy one since we are looking for a house with this attribute. However upon thinking about it for longer, I realized that while my answer was realistic is was rather boring. I mean a room that can hold any 3 things has so many possibilities right?

My realistic answer would be a swimming pool and two lawn chairs. I love swimming! 😀 It’s one of the greatest forms of exercise and I never feel like I am doing it. Plus just the way the water feels as it rolls over ones naked body is just delightful. It’s like the softest of silks, a gazillion count sheet, the fluffiest of cotton balls. Sadly I don’t think that even describes it enough. Try it, you’ll see what I mean.

My unrealistic choice is really not all that exciting either. However I want what I want. It would be a room of windows, inside would be a 1 piece computer/internet/monitor thingy. I think those are called macs! *wink* The most comfortable oversized, over stuffed chair you could imagine and a unlimited credit card never needing to be paid. I love shopping, I’m a girl what can I say. I am also kind of an addict. I buy things I never need and when I hit my depressive state usually spend way more than we can afford. When I come out of the depressive states, I become actually sad because I see what I’ve done. I would like those consequences gone. I would like to be able to buy anything I want at anytime, happy or sad.

Ode to Earth

Posted in Poem by

Longing for Gravity

What would I miss if I never saw you again?
Your animals, plants and all mammals but man.
I would miss your vast oceans, sparkling and blue,
Your ponds, bogs and lakes brimming with life too.
I would miss your forests and jungles and genus allium,
I’d miss your drinks made from fruit and the occasional valium.
I’d miss your natural music, thunder storms and the rain,
I’d miss the seasons, summer, fall, spring and even winter the pain.
I’d miss all your vibrancy, your smells and your colors so grand,
I’d keep asking myself why I left again and again.
If I went to Mars and I wasn’t alone,
I might have seriously just stayed the fuck home.

Too Many Faces

Posted in Life by

Unsafe Containers

Have you ever had someone say watch your face? I’ve been told that way to many times. I lack poor social skills due to the fact I am/was agoraphobic since I was 18. What does that have to do with this prompt? Well I am unable to hide how I feel ever.

I have visibly sneered at people I don’t know, I have cried in the middle of just about everywhere. I’ve been so exuberantly happy that I look like a psycho! I’ve thrown things in public when angry. Until I get those things in check I would prefer that I keep all of them contained.

Though the happy one is usually silly which makes me not give a flip about what people think, which is nice.

She Said Yes

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A True Saint
Little did I know that my teens would come to mean something. In the future I would be made the Saint of Misunderstood Sluts. Oh ya you heard that right.

For all the girls looking for love in all the wrong places. For the girls who wanted to be popular but had nothing but two tits and a cleft between their legs to offer. They would realize that they were empowered because at least they fucked and sucked for a reason. Hypersexualized bipolars, abused girls who thought sex was the only way to bury the pain, those who would do anything for anyone would finally have someone to look up to. Someone who understood their plight.

I would be honored.