Sunday, October 25, 2009

12 Steps for Buddhists

I've had such a hard time on the codependency boards. They all view God as some all powerful saving thing who can make things better. I don't WANT to rely on a higher power. And I truly believe that I can deal with my codependency issues and borderline personality disorder without believing some mystical higher power is somehow going to help me. For me, God doesn't help me through much of anything. I don't think he works that way. I mean, what's God going to do that I can't? It's not prayer-in, help-out. God is not a candy machine. I refuse to believe that I can't help myself in the way of medicine, therapy, and skill building. It has turned into a discussion about higher powers and what I've found out is basically, there IS no way around addiction that does not involve a spiritual awakening and thinking that something bigger than you has to help. What happens when an atheist, for example, becomes addicted? Are they just screwed?

All I wanted were some books that would help that don't involve the 12 Steps because those take a view of God that I don't. I hope I never become alcoholic because I'd hate those steps and would need to find another way.

I'm Catholic, but with a Buddhist soul. They're not incompatible totally. Buddhism relies on understanding more than faith, so you see how much religion doesn't work for me.

This is so disheartening. I WANT to get better, but there has to be a way other than lying about my spiritual beliefs. There's no way I can change them. They are what they are. Even if I say they're changed, they won't be.

How does anyone who's reading this deal with crisis without surrendering to a higher power? Is there another kind of higher power? I even believe in God but not that I need to surrender anything to him. It's all so confusing.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Photo post

What do I feel like writing about? I've written two very heavy posts and I feel like I need to write something lighter. No one likes a whiner. But sometimes things just need to come out.

Maybe it's time for some photos. Yes, that is a good idea. I don't take enough lately. I just don't go out anymore. I need to make time. I just have to get up early and I hold my bedtime so sacred. I work out twice a week and I take my violin lesson on alternating Wednesdays. But in the time I have, I HAVE to go out more. This is my sanity. It makes me so happy to take the pictures and edit them. So I'm going to make a goal for myself to take pictures once a week, and it doesn't matter where. Just anywhere.

So here are some self portraits.

I hated this picture because I screwed up the focus, but then I made it into a Holga-like picture and I like it now. This is by my parents' house.

My new medicine. We'll see.

My student had a seizure the day I took this. It was so scary. It was long, too. She has a nurse with her, luckily, so I didn't have to do anything, but I just felt so helpless standing there watching her jerk and hear her holding her breath and almost squeaking. Normally she doesn't make a peep. She's not only nonverbal, but practically mute. It freaked me the fuck out.

This is from Sunday when I was still fairly sick. I knew something was different and something was very wrong. I had just called Dad and started crying because my chest hurt and I had a fever (I hadn't had a fever since practically childhood).

Friday, October 23, 2009

H1N1 update.

Just a health update. I either got a mild case, my immune system is great, or I started taking the flu medicine early enough because I felt almost totally fine all week. I was pretty miserable over the weekend but the antivirals plus treating the symptoms seemed to make it mostly better. And of course today, my last day off work, is when I'm starting to feel nauseated, but I'm hoping that passes. It could also be my mood stabilizer, since my dosage was increased yesterday. Either way, I hope this doesn't last, because I have to make it to school on Monday or else. Mom is bringing me some Coke (which helps) and I am sitting up and distracting myself so that I don't throw up. I know no one enjoys it, but I am terrified of it. I avoid it at all costs. Even if it would make me feel better!

That is all.

Also, one of my dirty little secrets is that I listen to obnoxious rap music while cleaning and driving, and I totally rock out to it.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

see me bleed

I used to cut. It seems to be the self-injury method of choice among women my age and comes with a stigma. Something people do for attention only. I have a picture at the bottom that is NSFW and involves self injury. Just FYI. But it's beautiful.

I used to cut a lot. I still want to, sometimes. Maybe now is the time to talk about it. I just feel like putting it out here. I'm not looking for sympathy. I don't feel bad about it.

The first time I did it it WAS for attention and not as therapy and that was senior year of high school. I discovered the rush of endorphins freshman year, and I used a knife The Creep gave me. It was a wavy blade thing that flipped out in a really cool way. I didn't really start for real until maybe '05. I don't know what happened right before I started. I had to think first, because I went out to buy boxcutters. And some people say they're numb and they can't feel it. I felt it. And it hurt. But it was a quick hurt. I would gasp with the pain and then it would be over. Each time I did it, I felt a little more relief. I probably needed stitches in a few of the cuts but never got any. I only went to the health center once for it and he said I would live without them. Normally I got no help though. I wanted scars and I never put anything on them to help the cuts heal. I did this over and over. When I was done cutting I would feel this sense of relief and exhaustion. I could finally sleep. I would try not to, and then I couldn't handle it any more. I was at a prayer meeting even, and in the middle of the meeting I walked to the bathroom and cut my shoulder. The buzz lasts for a little bit and then I would crash and be sleepy. It's by no means a permanent solution, but it takes away the inside pain for a while.

Part of why I did it was to relieve the tension when I was angry. I got angry a lot. Another was to relieve tension because I couldn't feel anything when someone tried to touch me. At the time, nothing felt good. I remember an ex boyfriend trying to hook up with me and it just was NOT happening. As soon as he started touching me I lost feeling. So when I got back I cut and I felt and I was better.

People tried to help, but didn't. My best friend pretended like she was cutting and basically baited me and got me to talk about it that way, saying if it wasn't OK if she did, it wasn't OK if I did. That was probably the worst way EVER. I ended up feeling so much more shame. I already knew it was wrong. And then I resented her and never wanted to tell her when I needed help. Don't ever do that. I have a sneaking suspicion she found this and is reading it, and it would really hurt me if that were the case. I've already asked more than once for people to stop reading (and she would be in that group of people I don't want reading this). This is my safe space, where I can finally talk about the things I never could on my public blog. In fact the last time I cut is because she got on me about something on my old blog and I ended up feeling hurt and angry so I went out and got blades and cut a LOT. That is part of why I have this blog, so I can talk about my situations with my friends and be angry if I feel like it without repercussion. But that is beside the point.

I haven't done it in a while. But every time I see a razor blade or box cutters I have to make someone move them. I've looked in the aisle at the store many times. Sometimes I scratch my face when I'm angry or sad instead but that's still a dangerous road for me. Sometimes I want to do it even when I'm not hurting. It just feels good. That feeling you get from it is addictive (addicting?). And no one really understands. They try but in the end they get so confused that I end up feeling worse about doing it. My pain and pleasure centers are all mixed up, which is why pain during sex is a confusing subject for me. I dont want it to turn into self-injury. Because once I start cutting, it's hard to stop.

Cripple (NSFW possible trigger photo that is good photography but very much a trigger)

I want love to hurt. Hurt me, bruise me, bite me, use me.

I don't know if that's because I don't know what sex is other than pain, or that's just me. Maybe it's because he used to bite me and bruise me. But the real damage was nothing you could see. Last year even, whenever we were together we would be frantic. It was all consuming and scary. We would lie together in bed and I would let him just bite me because I couldn't feel anything else. But then later I would see myself in the mirror and not know who that reflection belonged to. He never understood what he did to me, inside OR out. I didn't want him in my bed in the first place. He usually conned himself in there and almost forced me to sleep with him.

I don't know if it's a good thing or not. I don't know if I'm just submissive and that's what I want, or if this is my way of not being numb, or both. When I was with Cat, I made her scratch me so hard that I was almost bleeding. I made her pull my hair so hard. She was so afraid she would hurt me, and even though I hate this phrase, it hurt so good. It didn't really hurt at all, but felt good. It's like in the L Word, after Dana died, Alice (her best friend and former girlfriend) and Lara (her most recent girlfriend) had sex, and Alice said "I want to feel something. Make me bleed."

And I don't know how to love without pain. Sometimes I need it to feel. But I'm strong and I can take it. Pull my hair and scratch me and hurt me.

I will grow back like a starfish.

(L. MacCool, how do you always know what to say? Or in this case, what music to post about. We're so different, except sometimes not. This song may hold different meaning, but it's still important to me. Thanks.)

This song is probably about BDSM but it holds a separate meaning for me.)

Mr. Muscle forcing bursting

Stingy thingy into little me, me, me

But just "ripple" said the cripple

As my jaw dropped to the ground

Smile smile

It's true I always wanted love to be


And it's true I always wanted love to be

Filled with pain

And bruises

Yes, so Cripple-Pig was happy

Screamed " I just compeletely love you!

And there's no rhyme or reason

I'm changing like the seasons

Watch! I'll even cut off my finger

It will grow back like a Starfish!

It will grow back like a Starfish!

It will grow back like a Starfish!"

Mr. Muscle, gazing boredly

And he checking time did punch me

And I sighed and bleeded like a windfall

Happy bleedy, happy bruisy

I am very happy

So please hit me

I am very happy

So please hurt me

I am very happy

So please hit me

I am very very happy

So come on hurt me

I'll grow back like a Starfish

(Antony and the Johnsons, Cripple and the Starfish)


My gender expression is shifting again. I feel really uncomfortable if I wear button down shirts anymore, at least without them being open with a T shirt underneath. I feel like with my short hair, those two things make me look so masculine and right now, that's an uncomfortable feeling. This is so strange, because that's exactly why I wanted those shirts. I just feel like right now I want to look more feminine. I don't want to look masculine. I can either look badass, or feminine. Nothing else. I can't explain it, but that's what I feel like and I have to do what makes me comfortable. But even when I say feminine, I don't mean very feminine. But, moreso than before I guess. I'm wearing more makeup, but my uniform is still khakis and T shirts, I'm just letting up on the button downs and not using my tie as an accessory as often. I don't really understand this, but I am just going with my gut. I've enjoyed feeling "pretty" lately.

Also, I feel fine. I am so mad I have to take 5 days off of school just for this. I'm only really taking the days off because I'm contagious and it's already widespread. If I felt like this normally, I'd be at school. As a new teacher, I don't have many sick days used up. I'm so bored. Today I am putting on a mask and driving to get Taco Bell. It's not exactly healthy, but I'm tired of chicken soup and orange juice, and I have zero stomach issues. And I'm dying to leave the house. I'm glad my dad bought me some crossword puzzles. That has helped. And I still have a few shows to watch on On Demand. I should be sleeping to get myself better faster, but I'm wide awake. I think the confinement hasn't helped, but I also think I'm getting a little hypomanic. I'm full of energy now. I should be sleeping a lot because my body is healing but instead I'm only sleeping with the help of my codeine cough medicine. I don't know what my deal is.

I AM SO BORED. Time to take a shower and eat some chicken soup. I will get my unhealthy food for dinner.

Monday, October 19, 2009

My last post, translated into 12 year old aol speak. It will hurt your eyes.

Find the generator here.


Sunday, October 18, 2009

So I have h1n1. And I am SO SCARED of dying. The doctor at the clinic seemed so nonchalant about it. I guess I'll be fine? I'm afraid though. I know people have died from it. But I caught it pretty early, I think, so maybe that will help. I'm actually feeling OK right now, all of my medicine has kicked in, but I'm afraid of what I'll feel like later. I'm otherwise healthy, so I'm guessing maybe it won't be too bad. I don't want to jinx it. I'm just so afraid. I knew this was different right away. I came home from Indy early because I had a cough and was dizzy. Today my chest hurt so much.

And this Tamiflu I have to take? Can cause vomiting. I HATE HATE HATE throwing up. So much. I'm so scared of it. I know, my priorities are screwy.


Sunday, October 11, 2009

Holy cow.

Both my aides emailed me. They're both going to be gone tomorrow. I teach kids with severe disabilities. It's not as easy as just handing someone the activity and their group. It takes so much explanation. What the HELL are we going to do all day? I am not confident in this job enough to just take it in stride. This is new, and I'm a new teacher on top of it. And my kids are so different from one another that large group instruction is not always an option.

Commence freak-out.

New hair!

Here is my orange streaked hair for fall.

This is my goddaughter A. She just turned 2. I took her two year pictures yesterday. She was moody for a lot of it so I didn't get many, but here was one of the clearest ones. Tell me she's not just adorable.

Friday, October 9, 2009

I must really be somewhere on the continuum of sexuality. I like the word gay, but it's a misnomer, because there is the occasional man I like. Which brings me to my point. Because I just had this dream about a coworker. I have a thing for him. He has a girlfriend, but that doesn't stop my imagination apparently. I just woke up having had this dream and I was disappointed I woke up! A was writing poetry for me, for some reason, but not any sort of romantic poetry, just funny, like him. He works in the cafeteria and does copies. He's hilarious and is always in some sort of banter with someone. I like that in anyone. I'm really attracted to that. Of course now it might be weird talking to him after totally making out with him in this dream. Good thing nothing else happened, just for the sake of peace at work! I'm much more into witty than romantic, to be honest, unless it REALLY calls for it.

Just thought I'd share. Nothing else to do at this hour. I'm starting to wake up nightly around 2:30 which is something I do during the winter. I get hypomanic in the winter. Just my cycle. So I'm up now. I'm going to try and sleep now I think. I don't know how that will go.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

half and half

Since I left you with such a gloomy last post, I feel I should write a happy one. Sorry! Well, there is a happy part. I'll leave that for the end. That way it ends well.

I'm starting a mood stabilizer. My doctor practically made me pinky swear I wouldn't have unprotected sex with men simply because of the very high rate of birth defects. I told her I was women only for right now. I'm not closed to men in general, but I might be right now. I can be attracted to a few, but the idea of sex with them isn't always a great thought for me. But that is beside the point. This medicine helps mostly with bipolar depression instead of hypomania. But conceivably, I could just take my antipsychotic when I'm hypomanic. Hypomania is low grade mania. Mania is what most people think of when they think of bipolar. And that;s bipolar 1. I have bipolar 2, more depression. This CAN cause a really bad rash so we're starting slowly. I'm hoping it doesn't happen. I should have chosen the other one instead, the one that's better for mixed episodes. But hey. I made a call and I will see how this works. I also have to give up caffeine, mostly. It makes my inner commentary worse and revs my mind up. I hadn't even though of cutting out caffeine. It seems to be helping.

But I'm really in a low right now. And the weather being colder and grayer is making it worse. My sleep is screwy. I get hypomanic in the winter. Most people get depressed. I get hypomanic. Irritable and sleepless. Guess that's my cycle.

Why so honest? I need SOMEwhere to talk about this really personal stuff. I really do. And this way it is recorded.

Good news? S used sign language! S is usually off in what we call S-land. I don't know where she goes, but she goes places and we lose her for a while. Also keep in mind that as well as working with a few kids with autism, all my students have a moderate or severe cognitive impairment. She always shoves her Doritos and strawberry milk in my face to get me to open them. She is a very picky eater. I got tired of this and showed her the sign for help. She used it and I opened her milk. Then, SPONTANEOUSLY, today she used it twice! I didn't even have to prompt her with "ask for help" or something similar. She used to talk more, but for whatever reason, she lost some of that. It's rolling around in there somewhere, but I don't know how to get it back out.

The SLP wants me to use picture symbols with her, which is fine, and she didn't seem pleased I was using sign language. But I use it in my teaching all the time, so if she's picking it up, and communicating, I'm all for it. I'm doing the picture symbols too.

Anyway, so gloomy, then happy. Yay for me. And yay for S.

Also, I ate half a bag of caramel corn rice cakes last night. Don't judge me. They were delicious.

Saturday, October 3, 2009

What did I do with my friends?

I saw The Creep"like" a status on facebook about some mutual friend's status about going on an errand, with a bunch of smiley faces after it. She knows what he did to me. I would like to think I'm mad that she would dare even talk to him after she knew what he did, but it's not that. I'm mad that he gets to have a normal friend life. I'll get into that later. Also, my BPD makes me blow little stuff out of proportion so if it seems crazy, there's a reason.

It's weird, how I feel about him. He was not only my abuser but my thread that connected me to life. He was everything to me. I hated him and I loved him. I still feel guilty for wanting to even connect with him at times. And not many people understand that. It makes them sick and angry. I'll always feel a connection to him and I hate it. I feel guilty and I hate it. I want to hate him. I also want him to suffer. But not go away entirely, because I am still tied to him. I don't know why. I wish I understood. It's like he was a part of me for so long, and he sustained me as well as sucked the life out of me. He sucked it out, and then nurtured the thin fraying thread that was left.

I wish I had someone to call. I only have BFF and I can't just rely on her, and I don't want to. I need someone else. I cut off a lot of my friends because our values clashed, so I'm down to just BFF. Even maybe email. When I'm depressed (not even including the thing about my aunt), I need someone to call in the car while I'm going places, or an email to come back to or something. I need to just talk. And I don't really have anyone. It's lonely. Depression comes with bipolar and it can get pretty bad, and it is. Plus, with my aunt and all? It's pretty bad. And people offer but they don't think I'm serious. Oh, I am. I WILL call or email. Then they get all standoffish and I get even more depressed.
My aunt needs a lung transplant.


The doctor here had her on prednisone for so long and it ruined her bones. 1 She walks hunched over now, and has had back surgeries because her spine is weak. M@y0 Cl!n!c told her yesterday that she would need a one lung transplant and would need round the clock O2. She said she feels much better with the oxygen, which is great, but a transplant is huge, and survival rates for lung transplants suck.

I got teary when I heard the phrase transplant team from the phone when my dad was talking to her but haven't cried since. I'm not good at crying. I cried Wednesday because one of my former students is being expelled for being so violent. But that was it.

And my medicine is making me miserable. It is helping the down swings some, and definitely calmed down my thougts, and made my head quiet, but the restless legs are unbearable. I hope this is temporary. I can't keep taking Xanax because it's not really a long term every day drug. At least that's what I thought I heard. But either way, I can't handle this.

But fuck. My aunt needs a lung transplant. And Dad wants to be a donor. Because you can live with one lung, even though it's not ideal.

I don't even know how to handle this.