The soundtrack of a broken heart

I’d bet that he’s amazing to the people that are in his inner circle. Oh how I wanted to be one of them- ridiculous as it seems now. Different people, different paths and all that. My path is a little more different, and I always knew what that meant, and how intolerant people can be, but you can never predict exactly how it will play out. Ouch, it still sucks, even after all this time.

On a better note; it’s been ages since I woke up in a panic attack- it’s like a Christmas miracle every damn day.

Mantra today: Be Your Best Human.

Love to all

How ’bout Us- Champaign
Summer Girl- Beck
Boys Of Summer- Don Henley

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True love

I somehow knew there would be this electricity between us, a highly charged awareness. Each word artfully placed but never disguising the raw need underneath. I waited for you, worked hard for you, and never imagined you would be right here. So firm and cool under my fingertips, so sleek and sexy. The best of the old fashioned world, and the advantages of the one coming at us so fast every day. With you I feel like I can finally embrace all the changes, and leave so much of the awful baggage behind, just give it all away. I will never leave you, never give you up, I will love you in sickness and in health, wherever we go, however we live. Mansions or hovels, Boston to Bagdad. My dearest, wonderful Kindle, I am going to load you up with steamy romance novels, stock up on sex toys and red wine, and never go through the dating hell ever again.

He just shared his first book with me and it was an exquisite, melodic jewel of a novel by Jess Walter. It was so damn good, even for the first time. It rocked me to sleep and woke me up again at an ungodly hour. I just needed more, and hallelujiah, I finally found a partner who is as insatiable as I am, and who is happy to let me use him as often as I need to, with no regrets afterwards. He’ll never take advantage, he’s always straightforward and easy to read and he can handle my overabundance of emotion. Amazing. I just realized that of the times I’ve been in love, the millions of times I’ve loved, they were nothing compared to this. Dearest Kindle, I know we’ve only been together one fabulous night of hardly any sleep, but can we elope? I’ve never been to Vegas, but I’m thinking red dress and Elvis impersonator and a hard wired Amazon connection. What do you say? We were made for each other, and omgomgomg I love you soooooooo much. Close the door and get over here.


Boys of Summer- Don Henley

Precious- Depeche Mode

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Just my type

It’s crappy how it’s not socially acceptable for a woman to be sexual and open about it without being passive, aggressive, or labeled “slutty” or worse. In other places in the world, women are killed for even imagined sexual activity, unless it’s with their husband, and they’re probably not supposed to enjoy it even then- ie FGM or female genital mutilation. I feel like it’s my duty as a single woman, to enjoy it for all those that can’t. It hasn’t always been easy, even when I was.

So the song of the day has a line that kind of sums up part of my sex life: “You’ve got a pulse and you are breathing…” Meaning that I haven’t always been as picky as I should have been. Other times I’ve been completely wild and manic and then added alcohol and/or other things, and had nights that were completely off the hook.

I feel pretty wild now, but I’m not acting on it – yay. Well, I keep sexting the dude. That’s amazingly effective for immediate results. Grrr. And then this woman came in today, and damn she was luscious. I can see why guys go for big boobs, those curves can be stunning. I think I need to swing that way for a while. Although I am finally back comfortable with my sexuality, I still have moments when I don’t want to be penetrated or dominated, I want to be loved and nurtured. Much more feminine, soft energy would be glorious.  Hell, I wish I was in a big naked cuddle puddle right now.


My Type – Saint Motel
Easy Lover – Phil Collins
Woman to Woman – Concrete Blonde
I Kissed  A Girl – Katy Perry

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I almost did an endo on my bike yesterday. It was worth nearly wrecking to see that house. Tucked away like a magical grandma’s house, wrapped in greenery like a secret garden oasis in the city. Tiny, but with the necessary bits: garage, backyard, front porch, gardening space. I fell completely in love. I love houses in general – it’s fascinating how people design their home spaces. This one though – gorgeous and perfect. I wish home ownership was a possibility, but I don’t see it happening for a while, if ever.

I added up the money once, what I’ve spent on doctors, hospitals, therapists, and pills, pills, pills for my mental health. I could have had a house, car, motorcycle, paid off my student loans, and done a few plush vacations with what I’ve spent. In the end, it wasn’t nearly as complicated as western medicine makes it out to be. Simplicity, healthy, and lots of bike rides. And someday perhaps I will have a home of my own.


Believe – Mumford in Sons

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Broken thunder

I called my old boss and she told me she loved me, and then she gave me some great advice about my current financial situation. I was so grateful – all my other phone calls got zero assistance and minimal responses when I tried to get help – so I offered to come help with her hoarding. I haven’t been there in a while, and she doesn’t trust many to assist, and apparently it’s gotten so bad that she’s considering moving out to get away from it.

Last night, on top of everything else, my car broke down. In the past that would have been enough to send me into a panic attack, but this time it didn’t and I don’t feel that much different but I totally noticed. Maybe it’s being chemical-free, or perhaps it was the days of bad sleep and panic attacks I just went through, but none of that happened. That’s always the ultimate goal; to be able to handle anything that comes at me and still keep my zen and not dissolve into a puddle of tears, panic attacks, and depression.

Thank goodness for AAA, I love them so much. The dude did a magical quick fix and my car started running again. What a huge relief, even though I was already thinking about routes to work on my bike and how good the exercise would be for my physical and mental health. Striving for both is the best way I know to manage.


Thunder Clatter – Wild Cub
Electric Love – BORNS

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Exchange rates

I’m deep down in it, but so used to pretending I’m fine so that people don’t pass judgement. It’s pretty bad this time, and now I’m more isolated because all I’ve been doing is working, and not maintaining my connections very well. Like so many times, I think I passed my window of opportunity, and I’m so mute with depression and misery that I don’t want to see anyone, and I certainly won’t tell anyone how bad it is. Why bother them, or worse, scare them with the intensity of it. No one can really help, and I feel so wrecked and stupid that I started praying for cancer again, and I really want to start smoking again. How could I have been so naive to think that I could ever get my life back together. That was a futile dream, a waste of time and hope for a future that will never exist.

It’s better to focus on just keeping afloat while the waves are high, and not burn any bridges. The temptation to give away all my crap, sever all ties – they are just symptoms of the depression that becomes all-encompassing, paralyzing with panic. I have no idea what to do, am so freaked out that I can barely move.

And fuck, I’m supposed to go coherently advocate for myself, when that’s the last thing I’m able to do even when I feel 100%. I tried to ask for an advocate, but I couldn’t find the words, got too nervous on the phone, felt too wrecked to feel worth the effort. That’s it really; in times of deep depression, I no longer feel that I’m worth the effort. Especially now, when hospital bills show me exactly what my life is worth in today’s currency.


Price Tag – Jessie J

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A thousand ways

Even now I hear a certain type of jet, and it reminds me of the island and that aching sense of loss. No more family holidays, no more rowdy gatherings where everyone had a role. I’ve thought about forgiving my mom someday (never my dad, and I live in fear of him finding me), but I think my mom is happier without me in her life. I remind her of her mistakes. I am happier without her I think. She was primary in convincing me that I was crazy, but that she would always be there to help me. When it came right down to it though, she had no problem pulling the rug out and disappearing. It doesn’t set a good precedent for relationships in my life. If they people you love, and who are supposed to love you, do the worst damage, how do you break the cycle? I swore to never marry, just so I wouldn’t be like her and enable another human pestilence like my dad. I’ve been so busy destroying my life anyway, it’s not like anyone’s going to fall for my mess.

My friend said that I am a force for good in the world – an ironic choice of wording – and I wish I was. I feel too wrecked and sad and the blue has taken over again. I thought I could recover, but I see now that it was just my idealism. At best, I can dig my heels in and hang on for a while, maybe accomplish some tiny good things in a messy world that sorely needs them. How it hurts though, to see how badly I keep messing up my life. In reality, I know that I need more help and support than I can realistically find. Perhaps if I was rich or beautiful, I would have a better chance, but I have nothing to offer except caring. I’m not supposed to need help, and I’m still not that good at asking for it anyway. I don’t think in words, and in times of distress I certainly can’t communicate well in them either.

I feel like I can never make a positive difference because I won’t ever get a chance because of the compound effects of depression and the horrible things it’s led me to do to myself. Being depressed enough to check yourself into treatment is bad enough (not as bad as waking in the ICU though), but getting the bills afterwards is even worse. Then again, I know this is the crisis and depression talking and coloring everything in that deep shade of blue. I hope it gets better, but clearly it’s going to get worse first. Braced for impact. At least I ditched the dude, so I won’t have to deal with that making me feel worse, which he always manages to do. Fucking spoiled asshole – go play with your shiny toys and leave me alone. Some people, I swear. They see you struggle and they can’t help but rub it in, pour salt on the wound, and try to make you feel worse in a thousand ways just to make themselves feel more superior. It’s sick, but guess which one of us has the stigma, the label, and the mess of a life?

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Dressing for healthcare

I tend to overdress for life. I learned very early, that people treat you better when you are well groomed and dressed nicely. The worse you look, the worse the treatment is, even with people who are supposed to be neutral. This is particularly applicable in mental health care.

My shrinks would struggle to believe that I had such severe issues with depression and panic attacks, because I generally looked so put together and high-functioning. It often works against me, because I can’t get the help I need. That’s if I’m even functioning enough to ask, which is a battle in itself. When you’ve fought for mental health and battled for it in the mental health system as long as I have, you learn the painful lesson of repeated rejection and it becomes even harder to ask for help. When happiness is considered a choice, depression is considered a weakness. And no one wants to help you when you don’t seem like a winning proposition.

Yeah, there’s no way I’m going to that airplane thing in June. I feel crushed and wrecked and not up to dealing with the casual cruelty and arrogance of that crowd. A dose of the dude was bad enough, but a good reminder of how shitty people can be.


Cry For Help – Rick Astley

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Crazy for you

What a messy planet we humans have created. It’s hard to read the news, but I do it anyway. I would rather stay as well informed as I can, even when the news is bad. I switched to more international news, as local and national tend to be sensational and mostly about awful things, never the good news. For that I go to Upworthy, Good, The Good Men Project, Smithsonian, etc, etc. There’s non-religious, inspirational stories out there, but you have to actively seek them out. Meanwhile, humans everywhere are doing awful things to each other, and why the hell are countries so elitist about immigrants? Like you are only welcome if you have money, friends, and a good degree? That doesn’t give a lot of worthy people the chance that they need to survive and thrive.

I wish more people had the word “altruism” in their vocabulary, in their consciousness. The dude has reminded me that a lot of people simply don’t care. They have become immune to the cries of humanity, hearts hardened against the huge numbers who need help from the more fortunate. I feel like an idealist fool for hoping and wishing we could do better, but there it is. I am and I do.

That’s it, I have to paint soon. My soul is broken and wrecked without it.


Crazy For You- Scars on 45

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The color of you


A walk in the woods


The color of you

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Unopened letters

My friend says that he normally keeps a bottle of good red wine in the car – just in case. I love that. You never know when the perfect opportunity for a picnic or a celebration will arise. We had one yesterday after a long hike in the woods. The river was a perfect place to relax for a few hours, before heading back into town for dinner. I love how considerate and kind he is, and we can talk about anything – a huge +++.

It was amazing to have two days off in a row, but I definitely have the Monday blues today. Trying not to think about my terrifying to-do list. Or that unopened, official letter that’s lurking on the counter. I might have to have someone help me open it, which is pathetic and embarrassing, but overdue at this point.


Dixie Road – Lee Greenwood
Mama Makes More – The Strange Tones
She Works Hard For The Money – Donna Summer



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Persistence over gravity

I got to go see my first Cirque du Soleil show, and it was spectacular. Every news station and publication in town got tickets, so I got to put on my press pass (squeal of delight) and now I just have to write something great about it. Seriously, why can’t writing be my full time job? I need to make that happen – I hate my other job sooooooooooooooo much.

Magic – The Cars

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