I’m snot.

I’ve been complaining about having no energy, and falling apart. So, seeing the shrink today (that I have not seen in over three years) brought me back to thinking how batshit insane I have become.

Although I have accomplished things in life that I didn’t think possible back then, there is a side to me that I have locked closed into a little room and thrown away the key. To me, this side should be dead. And although I am not suicidal, the thought of death would be a lot more simple. The realisation I have had is, this side of me that wants to be dead is the side of me I am not allowing to live.

This is complicated shit, I know. Bear with me, or move along to a skippier post I’ve written on another occassion, right now I need to breathe and talk about this.
After Kiera died, a part of me died with her. I have not allowed the most important part of me to show in my personality – the important part that is my subconscious.
If I had to ask my friends to give you a resume of my persona, they would use the following words:

• In Control
• Strong
• Brave
• Determined

That all sounds just dandy, but the truth is, all those things I portray outwards are the cause of 99% of my problems! The reason I am batshit insane, is because I am so busy being ‘in control’ of being ‘strong, brave and determined’. This is why I do not have energy, people. My energy is being sucked dry because I am not allowing myself to feel things.

Think of it this way, I am the glue (made from energy), and my resume is the broken jar I am holding together. The glue is working so hard to keep the jar fixed that it has now been infested by raging infected bacteria, germs and fungi that it is no longer sticky, it can’t hold anything together anymore, so its become snot.

Thats right, I said snot. Still firm, but absolutely bloody useless at fixing anything.

Therefore, I need to medicate and nurture the snot in order for it to go back to being glue. I want to be glue again, I’m happy when I am glue. Being snot is not cool in the slightest manner of all things normal and sane.

I love my shrink, she’s as loopy as I am, but the nice thing is that she makes sense where I don’t. Also, she suggested I try Cranio Sacral Therapy. I have heard about really bad experiences, so I am a bit bleak about it. Any peices of ass-vice for me? Have you heard about it, or tried it?

Stuff.

I’m falling apart, and no matter how hard I try, the pieces of me don’t want to be glued back together.

I have such crap things in my head right now, and I’m experiencing a heavy feeling of absolute impending doom in my life, work, home, head & family. Despite being off any form of AD (anti-depressant, which I took more for anxiety) for years, I had to make a decision of doing something because clearly my self-help books and pep-me-up chats at night are not working.

I have an appointment with my shrink at eleven thirty this morning. I can’t help but feel that I am sliding backwards a bit, yet at the same time I know that if I leave things the way they are there will be alot worse to come. I have an annoying habit of letting myself slide back into cave mode. I don’t want that.

Its funny though, as anxious as I feel, I still find humour everywhere and this morning I had Leon and T in hysterics because I was moaning about having Fat Foot disease. To top that off, for some reason the hair follicles in me have decided to piss me off immensely by growing three times faster and much more furiously than ever before.

Fuck.

Ps: I am not leaving this blog, but the one I started before I moved over to blogger. Sorry I caused such confusion. My bad.

But us anxious people are allowed to cause chaos ok, so thats my excuse and I’m sticking to it.

Dear Old Blog

I have been writing in my first blog the whole time I’ve been here. But I have decided to surpass puberty and switch over to the big world and be a big girl with a bigger blog. So, yesterday I decided to end my subscription with p.com:

___________________

Dear Bloggie,

I have thought long and hard about it, and I have come to a decision. I can no longer be unfaithful to you, you deserve more than this. Copying and pasting does not become either of us.
I have found another.

It is not you, dear bloggie, it is I. We have nothing in common anymore, and although you made me very happy for a while, she is better. She has a lovely pair of gigs, and her memory is swell. I am not an unfair blogger, though, you may keep all the archives we have created together, however there will be no fresh posts from here on in.

Please tell our kids, the readers, I love them, and I will pop in and take them for weekends to IMS land when I can. I would really like them to move ahead with me, to my new blog address, bloggie, but if not, I completely understand they may feel loyal to you, and you alone. Thank you for the laughs, the memories and the comments you have passed on to me. I will forever treasure you as my first.

With love, Sheena.xoxo
_____________________________________

What a way to bring out the lurkers! I had 40 official readers daily, and the nice thing about that site was that I could read about my readers, as they each have to fill out a profile. What a stunning idea. That will be the only thing I miss. Although only 8 or 9 of the 40 actually made their presence known, it was still nice to finally get comments from most of them who didn’t usually comment.

So, big blog – its just you and me, babe. Let the good words roll and may we reek havoc!

Ps: got a confirmation email from AWLA yesterday to say they have received my work and are looking forward to being in contact within two weeks. Cross your thumbs, toes, noses and armpits please, everyone!

Chow bye.

Pps: Never. Ever. Drinking. Again. eVER. Like, ever ever!

Silent Cave Mode

I’ve spoken about Silence and I not being friends before. Silence scares me. I’m the type of girl that has the radio, TV, ipod and microwave going all at once, just so that the silence is shut out. Silence is scary. It makes you think. Thinking is dangerous for my health. It’s easier to be busy and distracted than it is to sit in a corner and wallow…

Once upon a time there was a girl.

She grew up way faster than she should have. Despite going through various different stages of challenges in her childhood, and abuse later in a relationship, she became a survivor instead of a victim. It was a good thing she had skin as thick as two planks, because she could’ve been dangerously close to suicide in the really bad times.

Then she fell pregnant & her baby girl kept her going for a long time, having someone else to take care of was easier than taking care of herself.

But then that baby died, and she nearly wanted to die too.

She became reclusive, staying at home instead of being with her friends, lying to her family, just to be alone. Having the curtains drawn 24hours a day in a room that had locks on the doors and windows, just so no one could get in, this provided her a solace she had never known. This was her safe place, her freedom, her cave mode. A place where no one could get in to hurt her, yet the demons from before would never be allowed to get out & escape this way either. A catch 22 situation. Never good for anybody.

One day, while watching a documentary on TV – something macabre made her laugh. Something so disgusting and cruel and she laughed. And couldn’t stop laughing. Her family looked at her as if she had finally cracked after 6 months of being an absolute zombie. She just couldn’t stop laughing. I think she had to laugh, because if she didn’t, that would mean she’d cry, and to cry admits defeat, finality, end, death. She couldn’t accept death. Death would not do.

She wakes up from a dream she can’t remember, except for a voice telling her it was ok to forget, to forgive, to cry. To mourn. Finally, she weeps. Bucket loads. It was to be her baby’s first birthday, and instead of blowing out candles, she was blowing her nose. A friend arrives with cake as a good gesture, and instead of feeling grateful, she feels ill. It wasn’t meant to be this way.

To her hearts content, she empties it all out and never once takes a second to think about how she shouldn’t, couldn’t do this. It wasn’t her. She lay in bed at night and practiced being unbrave. During the day she was numb. Numb was safe. But Safe was dull though, and no matter how hurt and angry this girl was, she was not, and would never be, dull.

It took a while for anybody to break her shell, and when she finally did let someone in, he hurt her too. She lost a best friend, boyfriend, lover and partner all in one person, all in one day. He lied to her heart, he robbed her soul, he killed her trust. All in a moment, her life as she knew it, changed. She changed.

Eventually, though, she decided enough was enough. Enough emptiness. She got out of bed, got a job, went out for a coffee, saw a movie, went home and smiled in the mirror.

I’m proud of that girl. I’m proud she had the balls to get up and live again. I’m proud that she laughs again.

I’m even prouder to call her me.

Toxic friendship

Friends are funny things. They can make you laugh, cry, believe in yourself and others, and most of all – they can make you feel confidant. Sadly, though, friends can also make you doubt yourself, make you negative and feel very used and let down.

I, unfortunately, have a friend who, in the beginning, did all the nice things and made me really happy, we spent all our time together and shared jokes, jobs, parties, cars and unfortunately, even boys. Thats a story all on its own right there, so we’ll skip that for now.

This friend and I have become different people over the last year or so and we now hardly even speak. It is sad, because her family is the bomb and I considered myself part of it. I miss them as much as I was missing her until I came to the following conclusion:

Why stay friends with someone who has become toxic to you and everything you do? It’s not right that when you walk away from someone who is (supposedly) your life long friend, you feel the need to shake off her presence, and wash your hands.

Its become so competitive between us that if one of us is down about something, we will compete to see who is worse off. That’s sick. Whats the point? There is none.

This friend. This friend is no longer a friend. As of today, now, right this very minute. I would rather lose one of my best six friends than have five and a half.

I’m an all or nothing girl, you know this. If you aren’t loyal to me, like I have been to you, then screw you, I don’t need this relationship built on doubt, suspicion & grudges. You can shove it up your ass, two doors to the left.

That is all.

Screw you, you HTML riddled whore, you!

Taking the easy way out. Thats what I do, always have, hopefully always won’t. This blook writing business is an almost abomininational* pain in my rectum. Each website is so goddam negative!

• If you blah blah blah [insert some wrongdoing or another] you are not ready to write a book.
• Unless you can read this sentence and know what it means, you are not ready to write a book.
• Writing a book is hard work. (No shit sherlock, I thought it would be all roses and wine drops).
• If you are unpublished, you are likely to stay that way for a while, don’t hold your breathe.

Jaysus! Thank the pope (or my brothers for teasing me my whole life**) that I have thick skin or I would have stopped this bus right here.

* I made that word up. Three seconds ago.

** Which reminds me, my effing brother shot me with a paint ball gun last night, right on my arse. I teared up a bit, I won’t lie.

Miscelleneous Thingies/Happenings/Events blah blah blah

Good news, all:

The American Writers Literacy Agency emailed me on Saturday, they would like to see more of my work!!!!!!!!!!!!)* I am really excited and thought I would send them a diversity of what I’ve written over the months, what do you think?

I don’t want this blog to become exclusively topic’ed**. Meaning, I don’t want to go on and on about the possible book/blog type thing that I might or might not, but really want to write. I think from now on, lets call it my blook. How’s that? I like it! Anyway, if you guys feel I’m harping a bit, kindly slap me up side the head and tell me to shut up about it, deal? Deal.

Onto other things now, Susie decided she wanted to diversify herself from her puppy food and took a chunk out of Left’s tail on Saturday morning. Lovely stuff, half his ass come out with the tail! Poor little birdie. He’s okay now, so put your frigging phone down, SPCA does not need to be involved, I have lifted the bird cage a little higher as it seems it was not a once off thing, Susie keeps going back to the cage.

Also, yesterday morning, I walked into my bathroom only to find that the little shit had ripped open my lavendar bath salts and eaten them. I only realised that it was quite serious when at three o’clock she was drooling more than an ice cream kid on crack, all over my New Leather Couch.

Am I a bad mommy? She only did it because she was bored and I was attempting to sleep in…

Friday night was a blast! I loved being a badass devil, and my tail was very cool! Will upload pictures as soon as I have photoshopped all the lumps and bumps out.

*Usually I hate using more than one ! to make a point because you don’t use more than one comma do you? No. Silly billy, but in this case its an exception.

** Made that up. Am so creative, AWLA, just in case you are reading this. Wink wink.

Ass-vice needed please.

One day when I’m big…

and married to my husbank* these are the things I am going to look forward to doing or saying:

1. Oops, Honey, um, could you please remove my car from the garage wall.
2. “No, debt collecter, phone my husbank, he is incharge of the finances, I know nothing”
3. “Just wait til your father gets home, you little fuckheads”
4. Swipe. Credit processed. Swipe. Shirt on sale charged to husbands account. Lovely.
5. “If you don’t cook tonight, no leg over for you.”
6. Yes, I used bleach! No one told me it makes colours run.
7. Yes, Sir, Mr Boss of husband sir, I did bake those buns myself.
8. Ah feck, its Friday, the kids will want to go out and I’ll have to get it on with the man.

Sigh. So much fun to be had. Now if only I could hurry up and get over myself so that I could settle for a dude and not be so damn picky!

*got that term from Peas, I love it!