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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Revise as necessary

I still feel you on hot summer nights, for no reason that I can possibly explain. The wind blows just right, and I can smell the ocean and feel the warm air across the back of my neck. It doesn’t make any sense, it only makes me sad, and I just want to forget the years of my life when I was really sick.

Even though disowning them was the best thing for my mental health, I still miss having a family; it’s distressing around the holidays, and I have times when I really want to call my mom. Then again, I think it’s just the wind wrapping around my heart and taking my breath away. Like when I see a drive-in or hear certain types of jet engines.

It doesn’t really matter. Given the rapidly advancing nature of my symptoms, I would guess that I only have a few years left, probably five at best. I paid attention and asked a lot of questions when I worked in the ER, and I have a pretty good idea of the damage I inflicted on myself. It’s one reason why I want to get people talking about mental health and depression. One of many reasons. Don’t let it wreck your life like mine did.

There were compelling reasons for my illness, but really, they don’t matter now either. It’s not like you can go back and explain or fix what’s been broken- life rarely works that way. I’ve been so lucky and blessed though, and I speak my gratitude every day, even if it’s only a whisper into the breeze.

Mantra today: Go find someone worse off than you and do something good to help them in some way or make them feel better. Repeat as needed, revise as necessary.

Love to all

Blown Away – Carrie Underwood
Into The Ocean – Blue October
But Not Tonight – DM
Hot Summer Nights – Miami Sound Machine
You Don’t Know – Berlin

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Better than Prince Charming

Who looks like a brainwashed bore anyway, imho. But even better than finally getting a job title that I adore, better than life calming down into a semblance of normalcy, with drama eliminated and peace restored, better than being able to write all the time, better than having the freedom to do what I want, whenever the hell I want, better than pretty much everything is this: Finally getting a full night’s sleep. It’s so glorious that I struggle to put it into words.

I never feel completely rested, but after 8 hours, I kinda feel like a superhero, like I can manage anything.

Quote of the day, from a cheesy song that I won’t name: Love can make the darkness sing.

Missing- Everything But the Girl

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In the news

Great, another story about a plane crash, with hundreds of grieving family members, people in shock, and numerous government agencies involved. Then it’s announced that the pilot who intentionally sent the plane into the side of a mountain was possibly “depressed.” Just great. So much for reducing the stigma around mental illness. Now the witch hunters have something to point a finger at. And with my history of depression, it just became more inaccessible than ever to get a private pilot’s license and fly a biplane- it will be assumed that perhaps I want to commit suicide via aircraft, and that I am at constant risk of doing so. Completely inaccurate, but since I have a history of mental illness, who are they going to believe?

For the majority of those with depression, even if we want to take ourselves out of the game, there’s no way we would even consider taking anyone with us, it’s not even a question. But how do you explain that in a world where everyone fears mental illness, we all get grouped together as <insert crazy, weird, psycho, unstable label here>.

No one wants that label, or the social punishments that come with it, so many have every reason to hide their struggles. And you know what happens then, when sick people don’t get the help they need? Of course it gets worse. Mental illness is particularly sensitive to treatment or the lack thereof, because it’s all in your head and so it can either go around in circles, get released some way, or you can risk your career and social life by trying to get help – help that’s isn’t always that great or helpful.

I keep hoping for humans to evolve and for social change to come, but it’s taking forever and now we seem to be going backwards. How about that state senator who thinks going to church should be mandatory? You know she’s only talking about a christian church for white people – and so much for freedom of religion. Maybe I should just tell people that Jesus cured my mental illness, as that seems to be more socially acceptable.

What a heartbreaking world humans have created. As far as I’m concerned, if you don’t have bouts of depression, you must be stupid, ill-informed, and/or uncaring.

Help Is On Its Way- Little River Band (overheard in a store)

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If it was a color

I would describe depression this way: it’s like the ocean, always around you, whether near or far. You can often smell it, taste it on the roof of your mouth, feel the rhythm of the waves. Sometimes the waves are big, small, random, tsunami, but all still part of one. The deep, deep blue is like the feeling of the worst possible loss, irrevocable, heartbreaking, penetrating to the core. Then the waves of panic, sadness, hopelessness hit, and you wonder how you can pull off some badass surfing ninja moves…sometimes it takes all my energy. Other times I feel a little supercharged like I can surf the hell out of it. Going for the body surf today. I have friends that used to kayak surf, and they said wiping out headfirst in the sand is the worst. Yeah. Metaphorically speaking, I’ve totally done that. Or gotten caught in a coral reef underwater. Yup, been there too.

I think I need to get a bikini and go teach English somewhere tropical. That would make me feel better, and it would give me something more interesting to write about. I wouldn’t mind more surfing lessons as well. Literally and figuratively speaking.

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Just the highlights

Well that was amazing. Thank goodness that I learned last year – the best thing to take to a Whiteout party where everything is lit by blacklights, and there’s glowing white everywhere, and bright pops of neon – highlighter pens are perfect. Not only can you keep expanding your body and costume art, you can create if you need a break from dancing, you can let other people use them on themselves or you (a woman did a tat-looking work on my back), and you meet lots of people because you have an instant icebreaker.

I don’t do lots of big parties- they are too noisy and crazy for me. But once in a while a huge one will call my name, and it’s usually because of a dance floor. This might have to be an annual one- this is my second year in a row, and holy shit the Burners throw great parties. There were fantastic DJ’s spinning this year, and I finally hit some deep dance funk about two hours in. I couldn’t stay late, I only drank water, and I was designated driver, so I was focused on groove. There were a lot of beautiful distractions, especially upstairs where it was so hot that people were getting sweaty and starting to strip down.

The great thing about Burner parties is that whatever drugs people may be doing, they seem to be the happy ones. It helps me feel better to be around such beautifully costumed crowds getting the funk down. It stupidly made me wish that last dude had been more open and less stuck in his rut. People don’t even know what they’re missing.

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Mud on the tires

The light was fading as I biked down the mountain – I started my ride at nearly sunset and raced the dark up the hill. All I could think about in the last two hours of work today was that if I couldn’t get some single track time, I might die. Work was brutal – I was more tired than usual, so I was eating chocolate covered espresso beans, and the afternoon crash was hard. Despite having yummy dude and gorgeous woman to flirt with all day. I bolted out of there as soon as I decently could.

What a relief to be completely distracted by trying to bike up something steep. I got some mud on my tires, felt the burn that comes with intense effort, and got to turn my brain off a little bit. I think I really need to go back to acupuncture. I am willing to deal with getting stuck with some damn needles, because it makes such a profound difference in my chemicals. In the meantime, hard exercise works, and it’s fun as hell. I’ve done it so consistently for so long, that I crave the happy chemicals it releases. Holy crap, just that short hard ride made me feel incredibly better. I do swear by exercise as a highly effective treatment for depression, but it’s not easy like the promise of a pill.

And I think I need to get toe clips of some sort again. I haven’t been able to jump things the same since I took them off, and I haven’t even ridden down any stairs in ages. Laaaaaame.

Love to all

Stuck On A Feeling- Prince Royce feat Snoop Dogg
Skip The Gutter- Louis Armstrong
Mandy- Barry Manilow (overheard in a store today, couldn’t resist)
More Than This- Roxy Music
Collide- Howie Day
Midnight Special- Johnny Rivers
Who Do You Want To Be- Oingo Boingo
My <3- Dirty Radio
Come Back- J. Geils Band
Photograph- Ringo Star
Come Cryin’ To Me- Lonestar
It Would Be You- Gary Allen

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He finally returned my copy of Geek Love, which I had forgotten all about loaning to him. That’s the mark of a wonderful friend – they bring your books back. He’s also the friend that got me into Chuck Palahniuk a zillion years ago ( Choke is the best. Hands down).We both still start laughing every time one of us says “poodle.” Holy crap, thanks E, it was great to see you. Looking forward to you kicking my ass at ping-pong…


Smoke- A Thousand Horses (this song has been stuck in my head all day, like a melancholy, rainy refrain and I would like something happier because it reminds me of shit I’d like to forget)


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Why I’m anonymous

A lot of people seem to feel no hesitation, no regret, no thought at all about their attitude towards the mentally ill – it’s complete disregard, like if you are sick in the head you have no right to live. With other things you at least might have a hope to prove yourself, but with “crazy,” you are automatically tuned out, no matter what you say.

Like that century after my sister committed suicide, when everyone gave me the silent treatment. I suppose it was a huge improvement in some ways, as at least the bullies backed off. But that time period gave me a vivid education on how mental health issues are treated, and even though we lived in ignorant hicksville, Idaho, people are the same everywhere, and times haven’t changed that much in the years since.

It’s all over advertising, and every villain in every movie ever, is just treated as and/or labeled “crazy,” so of course with that kind of input, it’s no wonder that people can’t differentiate. Back and forth I go, between wanting to speak out, and knowing how badly that gets you targeted. The internet is pretty terrifying in that aspect.

There’s indicators that social change is happening, and I hope I can see it in my lifetime. I can’t help thinking that everything happened to late for me, and perhaps this is just one of those lifetimes when not everything is going to work out. Oh my goodness though, I’m so grateful for the amazing things that I have  gotten to experience. I feel unbelievably lucky, even when my brain chemicals are swamping me with waves of blue.

Love to all – take care of your mental health today!

Any song ever written, because it takes a crazy person to put notes together out of nothing, and to create things that have never existed before.


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Love in the stacks

Jeffrey Eugenides’ new novel is magnificent. My paltry words can’t even sufficiently describe it. I love his writing style, and I am fascinated with the taboo subjects that he embraces and runs wild with. Other than Donna Tartt and Wally Lamb, plus Webster and Chaucer, I think he’s one of my favorite authors. Oh yeah, and Dumas and Douglas Adams. Oh geez, the list could get long. It’s been heartbreaking to realize that it’s really hard to read books or concentrate since I was on Abilify in 2009, and then the benzo OD pretty much killed my memory, so I tend to re-read really good books or skim new ones, but The Marriage Plot was worth the struggle.

I could never ruin the glorious sanctity of the library, but I still wish I could have christened the one in college.

Love to all

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Born under a wild blue moon

Dammit anyway, my ex-boyfriend texted me again, late last night. He said he doesn’t know why he can’t forget about me, and my input would be appreciated. Then he sent another text apologizing for being cruel and insensitive when our relationship ended. I’m sure that was hard for him to realize or admit, but I don’t know what to say, and it doesn’t really matter anyway. I’m sure he blocked my number again, and he probably only wants to get laid.

I know why he can’t forget about me though – because I haven’t purged him either, even though I wish like hell I could. He was one of the worst things to happen to me, initially cloaked as one of the best. I don’t want to be treated like shit, it ruins my life and crushes my soul. I want to be treasured, appreciated, encouraged, from an honest and loyal partner, through good and bad times, and if that won’t happen, I’d rather be single and focusing on making my life more awesome. Like the song says, I have a long ways to go, and a short time to get there.

Now it’s time to change out of work clothes into something girly with happy colors, hit the gym super hard, and get ready to leave tomorrow. Yay!

Love to all


Woman to Woman – Concrete Blonde
Desert Moon – Dennis DeYoung
Oh Sherrie – Steve Perry
Stay The Night – Benjamin Orr

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