29 August 2011

Listening to: Nile - Those Whom The Gods Detest
Listening to: Cannibal Corpse - Tomb of the Mutilated
Mood: Somber and Pissed

Today was the first day of classes for me. It was a good day. The Sociology professor I have is a riot. I'm not sure English is my German instructor's first language though. At least she knows German and can communicate it to us. Tomorrow I get to tackle Shakespeare and Composition Theory, and probably another lesson in PE. Yay.

It was a bittersweet day as well. I didn't have a mother to come home to and babble about my day to. Dad didn't seem to much care about my day. I got to see long lost friends, one who lost her father just before her birthday. It just reminded me of how difficult this past year has been for me and how difficult it's going to be for her.

The anniversary for Mom's death is coming upon us, as is her birthday. I'm not looking forward to it. The grief counselor suggested doing some sort of ritual like burning her favorite candle, cooking a specific meal or something. I'll probably bake a cake on her birthday and figure something out to do on the anniversary.

Other than that there have been many sleepless nights or sleep impaired nights and a tremendous amount of rage towards some people that did not help ease Mom's death at all. The more I think about it the more pissed I get, the fucking lying, game playing, manipulation and I couldn't be sure she was getting the care she deserved and needed while I was gone. Not to mention I couldn't do any homework because nobody would leave the house once I got home allowing Mom and myself the quiet time we had scheduled. I should tell you about the day I came home and nobody had fed her. I was real impressed... NOT.

The nurse practitioner/counselor lady person told me to write a letter expressing all of my anger. Boy will she get an eye full. She thinks it'd be good to get it off of my chest. I'd honestly rather slap everyone upside the head for being one or more of the following: a) Stupid b) Manipulative c) A lying ass bitch d) A dumbfuck e) incompetent f) so self absorbed in their own sorrow (though she wasn't dead yet) that they failed to do what Mom wanted done in the first place, get her shit divvied up so nobody would argue over who gets what  g) Manipulative h) Manipulative i) Manipulative or j) understood that they were to leave when I got home from school. They were only needed when Dad and I were both gone. Oh there's k) Staying til 2 a.m. so I couldn't fucking have the peace and quiet I needed to do my homework to try to keep up with Mom dying and schoolwork at the same time and can't forget l) Not even around even though you live 3 miles away.

Did I mention Manipulative? How about backstabbing? What about thinking that they can come in my fucking house, move everything, spring clean every day of the week, tell me that the schedule Mom and I made up was confusing, although everyone else in the fucking world, even Joe could figure it out, I made it that easy to follow, come in my fucking house and pick fights with me when it's my house and my fucking duty to make sure Mom got taken care of? Did I mention any of that shit? If not, I'm sorry I omitted it. It must have slipped my mind. Did I mention that I know Connie called to complain that we were not taking adequate care of Mom and that a certain someone ran right to her to try to usurp my authority? Yeah that didn't work so fucking well now did it?

All it did was remind me that I couldn't trust any of them around Mom alone so they weren't. Especially when one of them wanted to fucking roll her over when she was on an air mattress and in excruciating pain and not wanting to roll. Yeah the nurse sat on the couch for a reason. Only certain people were allowed alone with her for a reason. Don't think I don't know shit that happened, that I'm stupid, that I'm blind, or that I've forgotten. I haven't. I'll look at them with contempt for the rest of my life. Mom didn't deserve to have her final days like that.

I'm like Stalin, I hold a grudge for life. They've fucked up. I don't have to play nice. I won't play nice. I'll always remember the bullshit that went on. Bullshit that would have gotten a nurse fired from a job. Bullshit that was simply someone's dysfunctional need for drama. I regret these people coming back into our lives. I regret the bullshit that happened. I regret not dropping that entire semester and staying home myself to make sure she was taken care of 24/7 rather than spending the entire time I was at class trying to stay awake and worrying about Mom. The only time I didn't worry was when I knew hospice was here to take care of her.

I'm. Like. Stalin. I. Hold. A. Grudge. For. Life. - Never. Forget. Never. Forgive.

And to top that off my fucking legs are edemic. Yay.

Hammer Smashed Face by Cannibal Corpse

15 August 2011

Upstanding Member of Society

I'm still experiencing mixed episodes. I'm getting so sick of the lows, sick of my own thoughts, memories, dreams (when I can sleep) and this messed up sleep pattern I've found myself in... awake at 5 p.m. asleep at 6 a.m. I'm sick of being in my own skull, my own skin. I'm sick of being me. I'm sick of never catching a break.

I'm unemployable, even without the piercings. If I could land a job I wouldn't be able to hold it down and attend college at the same time... hell I just wouldn't be able to hold it down. Even the nurse practitioner/therapist said I'd have a hard time holding down jobs.

I can't get help in the form of disability (trying for the 3rd time but not holding my breath) or vocational rehabilitation since you have to have a job for voc rehab to help you. I don't have the GPA (thanks bipolar) to work on campus 20 hours a week. I need to concentrate on classes this semester. I need a 3.5 every semester from here on out. I need to retake some F's and D's which means waiting around for the classes to be offered again. I'm never going to graduate.

I haven't heard from Dave for over a week, closer to two. He knows it drives me nuts when he doesn't call me, and I end up rummaging through all of the obituaries I can find just to see if his name is in there. I thought he understood the hell it puts me through to not hear from him, and how it makes me feel like I'm just a piece of ass to him, nothing important, nobody worthy of his love, nobody worthy of a phone call just to say hi, I'm OK.

I'm looking forward to classes starting up again, but I'm also reserved. It isn't a matter of "if" the bipolar is going to kick in and wreak havoc on my classes, it's a matter of "when." I need to work on revising my autobiography and try to get it published within a year too. I need to work on my historical fictions. I need to work on my epic poem about Boudicca's revolt. I need to do a lot of things.

I need to be a part of society, but that's never going to happen. I'm always going to be an outsider, a loser, the one who falls through every left-wing crack known to man. If Dad were to keel over tomorrow I'd be on the streets, homeless, jobless, with no chance of getting a job. All because I had to be born fucked in the head.

10 August 2011

Speeding Tickets and Relationships

So I got a speeding ticket with a seat belt violation today, I was running late to my counselor appointment. It only made me more late. Yay. More money given to the City of Saint Joseph. He got me dead to rights though. Dad's not happy about it. Can't say as I am either, it's my license that gets points on it for each moving violation I get caught at, not his.

Anyway I am supposed to come up with a list of things I'm good at for our next meeting. I can't think of much, writing, cooking, sarcasm. That's as far as the list has gotten, I don't see it growing much. Maybe Dave can help out with it... if he ever calls again. Probably busy with the garden.

Otherwise, I was reading blogs and came across this one Relationships how does bipolar figure into it? It got me to thinking about Frank and Dave. It's easy to make me freak out due to stressors (like losing a friend or just the thought of it) and that's something Frank couldn't cope with. Dave on the other hand understands I don't see the world in the same way he does and forgives freakouts and transgressions, also unlike Frank.

While the author states:
Keep in mind, crazy is normal to us. We’re used to disasters and to facing challenges. When our world comes crashing down on us, it’s often no big deal. Paradoxically, we are often in far better shape to deal with the situation. 
I have to slightly disagree with him. Us crazy people have our limits to our worlds crashing down around us. There is a point where it will make us go batshit crazy to the point of self injury or suicidal thoughts. I should know, I've been there far more than I'd like to have been. The thing is you need a partner, and friends, that can weather the storms of your insanity. While Frank proved himself in the beginning, he disproved himself in the end. Dave... especially after sitting on the bench awhile, has gone the distance. He's defended me when I was being attacked behind my back, he's let me cry and ramble on when the flashbacks flood my brain, and he's been a friend when I needed one. Dave has just been my rock, I guess he missed me while I was gone.

I don't think either realize I carry a grudge like Stalin did. Never forgive, never forget.

08 August 2011

Up, down, up, down, up

The August hell is setting in. August is always my worst month because I'm isolated, bored and intellectually unstimulated. I've been manic/hypomanic quite a bit lately... which means screwed up sleep patterns, inability to fall asleep, paranoia, agitation and creative juices flowing. I've missed two appointments with one counselor and one appointment with the other. I have to go tomorrow regardless of how I feel... at least that's what I'm telling myself. I don't know if the counseling is helping or not, it's at least someone to talk to in the real world.

I spent the day today spamming Youtube videos on my Facebook wall. I'm sure people appreciate the fine quality of black and death metal. If not, they're missing out on high quality music. I'm full of energy. I'm twitching as I write this. I have lyrics, poems and books flooding my brain, begging to be put down on paper or an electronic version of it. My brain just won't shut down.

The more I think about it, the more I realize I just suck at interpersonal relationships. Yeah, I've been thinking about Frank and how he abandoned me. I should have known better than to listen to some asshole that says "I'll always be your friend." Been there done that, got the scars to prove it. I suppose it was my fault, at least in his mind it was. I shouldn't have relied on him. I shouldn't have ever let him as close as he did. He was allowed into my emotional keep and he set the fuckin' place on fire. Too bad he had his own hangups about whether he was sending me mixed signals or not, instead of listening to me, and paying attention to what I was saying and doing he just decides he's sending mixed signals (after I told him a million times he wasn't) he just decided I wasn't worth having in his life anymore. Well fuck me. I should have known better than let my emotions and thoughts get the better of me, but they did. I guess the price to pay is abandonment. I'll never get to hang out with him again... I'll never get to talk to him again... I'll never be anything he gives a shit about again. Someone I invested a lot of time and money into and called a friend sees me now as a piece of shit stuck to the bottom of his shoe. How fucking wonderful.

I can't help it, it pisses me off the way shit ended between us. Losing a friend is as bad as losing a lover, at least it is in my eyes, especially a friend that proved himself to be trustworthy and accepting. Guess he wasn't as accepting as he thought he was. Guess he's not as awesomesauce as I thought he was. It's too bad he never believed me when I said I wasn't carrying a torch for him anymore... that I was back with Dave, which is honestly what I wanted the entire time now that I think about it.

Hell, Dave and I are stronger than ever now that he sat on the bench for awhile... why would I leave that? Why would I leave someone that's honestly had my back for the last 8 years, who accepts me for me even if he doesn't like it? He tries to be there for me as much as he can... he's getting better. I guess one could say he's mellowing with age.

So why do I "dwell" on Frank? Lack of closure for one, unanswered questions, paranoid thoughts and feelings cropping up, like who has he talked to about me, why, what was said and do they now think I'm a psychopath too? Include the desire to call him a pussy that abandons friends when a piece of ass comes along, the desire to go the fuck off on him in a fit of emotionally pained rage and the desire for him to see how much he's hurt me by being an abandoning pussy. The only part of me that "pines" for Frank is the one that wants real friends in her life, people I can call on when I need someone to talk me off of the ledge since hospitals are now out of the question, people that accept me and love me for who I am, not ones that get scared off by the disease that makes me who I am, that shapes me, that is me.