Friday, December 27, 2013

My Christmas Season

   I had a lovely Christmas season, despite being extremely stressed out from not having enough time during the day to complete every craft project I wanted/needed to do.  I have a few I.O.Us out there to people, but I'm confident in myself in getting them done.  Then, I can start to prepare for the next year.
   I will start with the good, because mostly things were good.

   Hispanicah with my parents, grandmum and husband was good.  It was great actually.  I enjoyed myself very much and looked forward to every day of Hispanicah.  For those who don't know, Hispanicah is a tradition that has evolved over the last 17+ years.  It started out with my mom and I wanting to open a present a few days early when I was in my early teen years, then it became something we started to do yearly and over the years we have it pretty much down to a science.  We start celebrating on the 17th of December and continue for the next 7 days till December 23rd in which we celebrate Christmas and the last day of Hispanicah with my other grandmum, uncle and aunts and cousins as well as my parents, grandmum and husband.
   We have a huge turkey dinner and open presents.  I love it.  So, I know I kinda left you hanging on Hispanicah, essentially what we do for those 7 days, is we exchange a small gift.  My grandmum gives gifts two days, my husband and I for two days and my parents for three days.  It's just a way to extend the season of giving.
   On Christmas Eve day, I spent some time with my parents and great aunts while my husband worked.  I then waited for him to get home so we could head over to my parents to open gifts with them.  It was awesome.  Got lots of great things from my parents, they opened a huge chunk of their IOUs as well.  When we got home we hung out for a while since it was pretty late and then we went to sleep... but I couldn't sleep so I was up off and on and even woke up before my alarm went off and showered and made my hubby and I coffee Christmas morning.

   Here's where I discuss the bad... I used to spend Christmas Eve at my great aunt's house with my family and would watch them open gifts, however since I am kind of on the outs with my family, I didn't do that this year.  I think I was just doing it over the last couple of years for my Great Grandma's sake.  Since she's gone, I don't have any reason to do so.  It kind of sucks not having things the way they used to be, but at least I'm not as exhausted by having to put on a fake smile around people who frankly, piss me off.  I did my part for the funeral but it never changed my feelings on these people and how they have disappointed me by being so self centered and treating me like crap.

   It's fine, I'm not as stressed on time as I used to be about spending a fair amount of time with each family function and having no time to rest.
   Well, on Christmas day we went to my grandmum's as tradition dictates for the last thirty years of my life and opened presents with my grandmum and aunt, uncle cousins and their partners and my parents.  My husband asked me if he should take a tub for our presents, I knowingly told him that we werent going to get much because we no longer participate in the family gift drawing and the only gifts we'd get would be from my aunt and uncle and grandmum.
   It kind of pisses me off because one of my cousins has a fucking job and didn't even bother to get me a fucking card.  I'm not even asking for a GIFT.  I just want some thought sent my way.  I guess it all depends on how you spin it, but I was raised to think of others before I think of myself.  My entire fucking family sans very few people were raised to think of themselves first, others last if even at all.  I'm seriously disgusted and thinking about putting very little thought, if any into next year's gifts.  DOLLAR STORE SHIT FOR ALL YOU SELFISH FUCKERS.
   It's hard for me to do that though, because I really do enjoy watching people open gifts that I've put thought into.  I have, however, been slowly evolving into a person who can live with a much smaller version of her family and not putting on that mask that I've been putting on for years.  I'm not forcing a filter over the things I say any longer.  It's simply this:  If you don't like me as is, then you can fuck off.
   I'm done.  That is all.  Finished.
   I am refusing to let these people harm me or put me into deep depressions any longer.  I already have enough anger for the last thirty years of life to do this for me.  I'm fighting a losing battle over mental illness.  I hate to admit it, but it's slowly taking over my life.  I don't need to fight anyone else's demons when I have my own.  I've tried to be supportive and I've tried to let people know I am there for them, but in the end, who's there for me?  My husband? My parents?  That's it.  They are the only ones who help me and love me no matter what.  Everyone else has these crappy conditions that I just can't meet.  I can't do it.  I just want to be loved for me.  I just want to be loved despite the fact that I am angry or mentally ill or cry at the drop of a hat.  I can't fucking help it.  I can't.  Unless you have mental illness, you will never understand.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Love, bipolar style.

   In a world where marriage isn't as sacred as it once was, it's hard to make the decision to get married.  It's hard to decide if you want to spend your life with someone or not.

The words "till death do us part" do not carry the same meaning anymore.

Marriage isn't sacred any longer.  It's just something people do.  Like changing underwear.  I know people who have been married and divorced multiple times before the age of 30.  THIRTY!

I know some people who should have been divorced a long time ago but for some fucked up reason are still together even though they hate each others' guts.  Or at least, that's the way they come off.

At the age of 15, I wanted to get married and be a wife and mother.  At the age of 19, I hated men and decided I never wanted to get married.  At the age of 22, I became lonely and desired companionship but couldn't find anyone that I could see spending my life with.

At the age of 25, the guy I'd been crushing on for years was finally single.

After the first night we hung out, I saw myself spending every waking moment loving him.

I'm difficult to be in a relationship with, the paranoia, jealousy, angry outbursts, rage etc. that are all part of me, make me a ticking time bomb that knows no bounds.

I was a decent girlfriend, an iffy fiance and I am a terrible wife.

You see, when I am manic, I suck.  When I am depressed, I suck.  There's really no in between.

Over the last few years, I've grown tired of pretending with life.  I've grown tired of putting on a fake smile, I've grown tired of acting happy.  I've grown tired of being around people that essentially piss me off.

I've always been kind of mouthy.  It's always been a fault of mine to have  no filter.  I don't know if it's my mental illness or just plain assholeness.  

I wanted to spend my life with my husband because he was the first person that loved me despite all my faults.  He was the first person that could handle such an alpha female.  Not many men are comfortable enough in their masculinity to accept a woman who refuses to follow the protocol of what the world views as alpha and beta.

With my husband, I've been able to let myself be vulnerable and deal with the shit that I pushed down to the bottom of my mind and tried to forget but couldn't.

I no longer have to be the fake version of myself.  I get to be the real me.

I know that it's bad to be so dependent on someone and to make someone your world, but how can I not make him my world when he's the reason I'm not completely broken anymore.

We aren't a perfect couple.  We fight, a lot.  But at the end of the day, he's everything I wanted in a man, and more.

Monday, November 11, 2013

A Beautiful Mind

Over the last few years, I've met some amazing people via Twitter.  Such talent, such amazing souls.  Today, I want to talk about my friend Deborah who designs these amazing knits and makes me wish I knew how to knit as beautifully or intricately as she designs.

Her mind is so beautiful.  I mean, to be able to see something in your head and put it to yarn and create these amazing patterns, that's just beyond dreams.

I had put knitting on a backburner but after seeing all the beautiful stuff she comes out with, it makes me want to just automatically know how to do everything knit related so I can give some sort of tribute to the beauty of her work.

I'm in awe of her.  She makes me smile and think.  She makes me happy.  Her designs make me happy.  I wish I could only do them justice right now.

If you are a knitter, you should check her out on ravelry: ObliviousKnits

You should check her out and try out her beautiful patterns.

Thursday, October 31, 2013

31 Days of Halloween: The Rest of the Days...

   So I know I haven't been blogging about the movies I've been watching, but I watch.  I've been revisiting a lot of my favorites lately and some new movies.  I've watched most movies by myself but my husband and I did watch Let's Scare Jessica to Death which was a movie my parents got me a few years ago because it had my name in it and when I was little my dad used to freak me out after I watched it by whispering "Jessica" in this creepy voice like in the movie.
   I'm not really going to go in order but I'm going to name the movies I've watched, since I lost my list I'm hoping that I get them all in.  I revisited The Exorcist, Carrie and the remake of Friday the 13th and The Last House on the Left.  I finally watched Pet Sematary and The People Under the Stairs which I'd never seen before.  I know they came out like 20+ years ago but I'd never seen them.  I also watched Evil Dead (from 1984) and The Bride of Frankenstein from 1934.
   Of course Beetlejuice had to be watched because it had been years since I saw it.  I know it's not really a "scary" movie but I remember jumping and seeing some scary stuff when I was a kid.  I'm trying to get it all in but my netflix list is missing some of the movies I've watched lately so I'm trying to remember them all and it's kinda hard when it's been over 2 weeks since my last blog.
   I watched The Fourth Kind, which was an alien movie from a few years ago.  It was pretty freaky, aliens freak me out.  I do like watching Ancient Aliens though.  My mom and that dude have the same hair style.  I'm joking... kinda.
   There was also The Devil Inside which was hard to watch.  I don't know why I did. Oh!  My husband and I watched Don't Be Afraid of the Dark which had a few parts that made me jump.  I watched Dahmer and Lizzie which were really awful.  I mean Jeremy Renner is a good actor but it was hard to watch him in this role of Jeffrey Dahmer and know that a lot of that stuff actually happened.   Lizzie was just horrible.  It wasn't even historically accurate.  Since I was a kid I've watched tons of documentaries on Lizzie Borden so it wasn't hard to see the inaccuracies.
   I've also been catching American Horror Story: Coven on OnDemand.  SO effing good.  I've always loved a good witch story.  I started Dracula last night from OnDemand which seems to be pretty good so far.  Also, on the weekends since TV viewing is shitty late night, I've been watching Gossip Girl.  Although I know who GG is, thanks to Happy Endings, I still want to watch everything play out.
   I'm not sure what will be tonight's scary movie, I need to make it a good one since it's Halloween and all.  I've watched more movies on TV and stuff but I totally can't think.  A few were lifetime movies that I can't think of the names too.  Well, there's my update for now.  Sorry it took so long.  :\

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

31 Days of Halloween: Days 13, 14 and 15

   I promise you, I am NOT trying to be a slacker.  I've been under the weather the last few days so I've mostly been resting.  I've still watched my movies and been keeping up with that, just not feeling up to sitting at a computer and blog about them because moving hurts.

   So on Sunday The Walking Dead premiered and of course my husband and I watched that.  I LOOOVE Norman Reedus.  Then after that I watched The Awakening  which had my attention solely based on the title and the eerie looking woman.  I wondered if it had anything to do with Kate Chopin's and each time I passed it by while looking for movies, I grew more and more intrigued so I added it to my list.
   It was nothing like Kate Chopin's however, it was pretty creepy.  I'm not going to say I LOVED this movie or that I'd watch it again, but I'm not telling you this movie is a complete waste of time.  I liked it for what it was and the acting was pretty good too.  Nothing like that crappy Whaley House movie.
   Yesterday I decided to watch a good ol' classic with one of my favorite actors: Charade with the gorgeous Cary Grant.  I've only ever seen the ending of the movie and that was many years ago.  I love how dramatic Audrey Hepburn is and I also loved seeing Cary Grant in color.  What more can I say?  I love classics.
   Tonight I watched Rise of the Zombies with Danny Trejo and Ethan Suplee.  It made me feel good to see Ethan Suplee going from derpy fatty (My Name is Earl) to military hero since I've had a crush on him since his Boy Meets World days.  Mariel Hemingway was in this too and I can't remember if she was a good actress of not because she was shitting in this movie.  I'm pretty sure that was on purpose, the effects were pretty funny too.  You just have to watch it to know what I'm talking about.  I was interested in this movie throughout the entire thing despite the shoddy acting by M.H.  It had Levar Burton and French Stewart to pick up the slack.

   I've also finished the first Season of American Horror Story which I'm pretty sure is one of the creepiest tv shows I've ever watched.  Especially since we've had weird activity in this house... also today, the dogs treats fell into the trash can on their own and they were solidly sitting on the cat tree where we have them, no cats or dogs were around when I heard the crash.  So yeah, fuck you, scary movies. :|  But I'll continue on my quest to watch 31 scary movies.  :)

Saturday, October 12, 2013

31 Days of Halloween: Days 10, 11 and 12

   My Grandma's funeral was on Thursday and we had a long day of crying and mourning and being around a lot of people.  We drove up to the mountains where my grandma was put to rest on the family ranch with my Grandpa and other family members.  
   When my husband and I got home, we were completely exhausted.  We had very little sleep the night before the funeral so we crashed very early.  I was awake off and on all evening.  I still had yet to watch my scary movie for the day, but I figured if I didn't watch it, I would miss my goal.  
   I picked one of the shorter movies on my list, The Haunting of Whaley House which had to be the most awful movie I've ever seen.  The acting was terrible, the scripting was terrible.  This movie sucked.  It was painful to watch.  I did however power through it, to say that I watched a movie.  I lost an hour and a half of sleep and my life to this terrible movie.  
   Friday night, I decided to watch an older movie that I'd never seen, The People Under the Stairs this too had terrible acting.  It was however interesting to see a bunch of people when they were younger, like the girl who played Rayanne from My So-Called Life and the guy from the milk commercial who takes a bite of a peanut butter sandwich and can't swallow to say "Aaron Burr" from a while back... among others.  There was a bright spot in the movie which was the rottie.  He was sooooo cute!  The effects that made this dog look "vicious" were laughable.  I guess in comparing to my mom's sweetie pie rottie, it's hard to see them as mean.  Then again, I rarely see dogs as bad.  
   Tonight's movie was actually good.  It was The House at the End of the Street with Jennifer Lawrence.  My husband and I watched together and we both enjoyed it.  He now has a new found admiration of J-Law.  I've enjoyed her since Katniss.  I recommend this one.  

So, I know I didn't blog daily as I was trying, but I am still meeting my movie goals.  It's just been a rough week.  

Thursday, October 10, 2013

To Whom it May Concern:

I've been an emotional wreck for most of my life.  There are many wonderful memories I have, despite myself.  Some of the memories that I recall when I want to smile are seeing my great grandma making tortillas or stirring the chile on a Sunday morning.

I miss that.  I miss seeing my family members play yahtzee and make fun of each other.  I miss being with everyone before everything got so complicated.

I remember going to pick up my great grandma over the years for family dinner.  I would sit and watch a little TV with her and sometimes even help her get ready.  As we would drive, I would practice my spanish on her and she never made fun of me or corrected me.  I would ask her how to say something and she would simply tell me.  She never made fun of my accent and she never made me feel stupid for saying something incorrectly.  She was the only person I felt comfortable speaking to in Spanish.

If something pissed me off on the road, I would say something fueled with anger and she would nod and tell me "I know" or "yes" when I would ask her if she saw what just happened.  She never made me feel bad for anything I said.

I remember watching her crochet these beautiful blankets and I remember wishing that I could have one of her creations for myself.  When I got older, she was an inspiration in my desire to create.  I learned how to crochet with the help of my best friend and every time I made something, I couldn't help but think of her.  She would ask me what I was making and I would show her and she would nod her approval.

I've missed my grandma for quite sometime.  I missed her talking to me and I missed her understanding me.  I'm so lucky that I got to spend all the time I did with her because I am blessed to have these memories. I have thirty years with her in my life and I wish it could have been more, but life doesn't always give us what we want.

I hate that I have to say goodbye to someone that I loved so much.  I hate that I will never see her again.  Nothing will ever feel right.  As nothing ever feels right when someone is taken from you.

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

31 Days of Halloween: Day 9

   Tonight my husband and I continued my 31 Days of Halloween with Red State  which has one of my favorite actors, John Goodman.  This movie was so sickening.  I don't even know where to begin.  Let's just say, it pissed me off.  It was done well and the acting was really good, it had to be in order to bring out such emotion. I'm not sure which movie is next.  I still feel broken.

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

31 Days of Halloween: Days 7 and 8

I didn't feel like blogging yesterday because I didn't feel like moving.  I miss my great grandma and I'm having anxiety about saying goodbye and seeing certain family members. Oh and spoiler alert for Silent House.

With that said, I still have been watching my 31 days of Halloween challenge that I gave myself.  Yesterday I watched The Caller  and it was pretty effing creepy.  I enjoyed it, but today's movie: Silent House has been the only movie that I was actually felt that anxiety in the pit of my stomach.  As I continued to watch the movie, I found out why.   The main character and I have something in common.  We were both sexually abused by family members, her by her dad and uncle and me by my cousin.  That explained so much because I felt much sickened by the anxious feeling the movie gave me.  I caught myself not breathing and I stopped crocheting multiple times.

I feel a little better today than I did yesterday.  I made myself a pair of fingerless gloves with the yarn in my great grandmum's stash that was given to me.  I still don't feel complete, but I know things will take time.

Sunday, October 6, 2013

31 Days of Halloween: Day 6 (plus a personal post)

   I'm still going with my 31 days of Halloween, I will talk about today's movie briefly and then discuss some other shit.  I watched Abandoned with Brittany Murphy.  I believe it was her last movie, filmed in 2009 before she passed on December 20th, 2009.  Dean Cain was also in it and he always plays an asshole.  This movie didn't really scare me.  It didn't really alarm me either.  I'm not paranoid about anything that happened in the movie.  I'm currently watching American Horror Story as I write this blog. This is more intense than most of the movies I've watched so far.

   Now, for more pressing issues.  With my Great Grandmum's passing, I've gone through a plethora of emotions not only with losing her, but in the fact that I am constantly in fear of running into my cousin.  Now, I've done a good job of dealing with this shit that happened to me, in fact, I've moved on quite a bit.  I've made terrific progress since I've stopped being around a good chunk of my family.  Some members of my family are triggers for me.  Simply staying away has helped me tremendously.
   However, with all that's going on, I've had to face my triggers but the biggest trigger is my cousin since he is the one who robbed me of a proper life.  I know that by saying that, it gives the illusion that I'm giving my cousin a lot of power, but I'm sure that anyone else who had gone through what I did would also consider him the asshole that stole a part of me, the innocent part that was forgiving, loving and full of life.  I am far from forgiving and I've decided that he is not worth forgiving.  Many people fuck up with me.  I never forget and I rarely forgive.  I'm not forgiven for the things I say on impulse, by myself or others.  It hurts to be me.
   Today, I was hurt by someone in my family for something careless they said that they apparently thought I was too fucking stupid to get the insinuation.  I left in a hurry, with anger in my heart.
   Disgusting Bastard's mother followed me out to see what was wrong.  I yelled at her and told her that the family chose when they allowed her fucking son to be privy to what was once something I treasured myself:  Being part of my family.  She told me that he was her son and even if he was a murderer she'd still love him.  This stuck with me, because in a way, he is a murderer.  He killed that innocent child I was.  He replaced her with this angry person that sits here today.  So yes, continue to love your disgusting son.  I never said you couldn't.  I just do NOT ever want to hear his name, his children's names or anything about him.  Remember that.
   The only people I need in my life are my husband, parents and the chosen family that I have selected to be a part of my life.  You guys know who you are, we are able to share things and you guys give me comfort that I am not alone.

Saturday, October 5, 2013

31 Days of Halloween: Day 5

   Tonight, my husband and I watched The Perfect Host with David Hyde Pierce.  I loved him as Niles in Frasier, but his character in this movie was way different. He was so creepy.  I won't give too much away, but this movie totally wasn't what I expected.  It wasn't really "scary" per se, but it was creepy.  I liked it.  My husband liked it.

Despite everything that is going on, I am going to stick to my 31 days of Halloween. I appreciate the out pour of love and kind thoughts from everyone.

R.I.P Grandma GG

   I watched my movie for today, but I don't want that to be the main focus of this blog since I have other shit on my mind as well.  I will briefly discuss the movie, then I will get into more important things.
   It's funny too, because I have a lot I'd like to say about the movie but I won't.  I watched The Possession today and it was the first of the movies I've watched that actually kind of freaked me out.  I was surprised to see Matisyahu in it.  I love him.  I love his music and what he stands for.  I definitely recommend this movie for those who like exorcism movies.

   Now for more pressing subjects, today my aunt called me and I missed her call but there was no message so I called her back to find out what was up.  She said she wanted to know if I wanted to visit my great grandma (I've always just called her grandma) which was odd, because I just saw her Sunday and I would be going again on Sunday.  She told me that she had been non responsive and had shallow breathing.  My heart fell.  I feel like I'm broken.  I haven't lost a human family member in almost five years when my cousin passed away.
   I do not deal with death well because it gets me to my core.  I fear death so much.  I fear what comes after and I fear that I have not been a good enough person, although I try my hardest.  I am afraid of dying and I am afraid for those who die.  I like to think that my loved ones are still with me in some shape or form after they pass, but I also hate to think that they would be stuck here, rather than passing on.
   Now, I didn't get to visit my grandma for almost 3 months while I was waiting to heal with my legs.  I was afraid of driving because sometimes my legs don't want to work with me.  I hate that because of my stupidity in falling down the stairs, I lost so much time with my grandma.
   I hate that I'm a fucking gimpy cripple.
   I have to now possibly see people that I don't want to because everyone is visiting my grandma.  I understand that people will be there, but I still don't have to like it or those that I have written out of my life.  I'm not going to not see my grandma because I dislike a good chunk of people in my family, I will just deal with it and all the shit that comes with it.
   My heart hurts.  I do not know what else to say because I feel like curling up in a ball and crying.  I want to hold on to my parents and husband and never EVER let them go.

As I was writing this blog, I got a call from my aunt to let me know that my grandma has passed on.  My husband and I went to say our goodbye and while we were there, my angry heart let go of my anger for one night to hug all those in sight.  Even those that I have written out of my life.

I know one thing for sure, I AM broken.  I have to rebuild again.

My grandma was 95 years old.

When I was 15, I used to pick her up to take her to family dinner night.  She never said anything to me about cussing and being an angry driver.  I did this every Wednesday for as long as we had family dinner.  We no longer do this, but these memories are memories I will always cherish.  I have all my grandmum's unused yarn and unfinished projects.  I will think of her every time I make something with love and yarn.

Thursday, October 3, 2013

31 Days of Halloween: Day 3

My husband and I watched The Cabin in the Woods today and I have to say, I did pretty well.  The idea was scary, and the effects were pretty good.  Wasn't what I thought it would be.  I wasn't scared though.
   This is actually becoming easier than I thought, maybe because I was watching with my husband for the last couple days.   Tomorrow I will be watching by myself because CW usually doesn't watch TV on Fridays, he pretty much does his own thing while I watch a gaggle of stupid shit, tomorrow's stupid shit will be a scary movie of some sort.  Not sure what I will watch though.
   I also finished a few projects as well.  I really need to work on Deborah and Cherubs birthday presents soon.  It will be Stephy and Kim's birthdays before I know it and I will be like WHAAAA?  haha I also need to start Festivus gift making.
   I had lunch and tea with my grandmum and aunt today.  It was nice.  I helped them with their kindles and even got a few books to read.  Gramoo pretty much knows, any book she gives me, becomes mine.  I do not return.  I like book trophies.  LOVE books.

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

31 Days of Halloween: Day 2

   Today my husband and I watched Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter and I started watching the first season of American Horror Story.  My husband watched a little with me, but he was in and out of the room.
   First off, I really liked Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter in book version, there was of course, a lot of shit left out of the movie, but it was still pretty decent since Seth Grahame-Smith wrote both the screen play and the book.  I understand not everything can be put on the big screen that's in books so I wasn't too pissy the way I get at some movies.
   I liked the special effects a lot, I think that the vampires were gross, so I guess we're ok.  The action was intense but the movie wasn't really "scary" to me.  I guess maybe because I knew what to expect?  All in all, I dug it, but it's something I could've watched by myself and not shit myself.
   Now, American Horror Story was pretty effing weird and I can see some parts freaking me out if I were to watch it at night.  My parents are addicts and I'm sure if we would have had FX when it first started coming on tv, that I would've watched it every week as well, now we have FX and I definitely want to watch the new one.  I've always been intrigued by witches and whatnot.  So let's see.
   So far, I'm not having problems with this movie thing, but I'm only two days in. :)

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

31 Days of Halloween: Day 1

   I had a cup of hot apple cider and watched Nosferatu a little while ago and might I say, I have a few observations.  I wasn't scared the way I normally am during a scary movie, but I did have that eerie feeling.  Max Shreck was really a good creeper.  He looked effing disgusting in the movie and after watching SyFy's Face Off for the last few years, I think they did pretty well with the make up that Count Orlok was in.
   I found a few things humorous with the movie, such as the "werewolf" being a hyena.  I also found myself thinking "wow, this is terrible overacting" in some parts.  I did however, take it for what it was, a classic, early adaption and I think that had I not been spoiled with the scary shit we have today, I would have been scared by this if I saw it during it's release.
   The music helped.  I do have to say, it was pretty disturbing.   I also enjoyed the odd cutting of the film where the characters would be in one place, then suddenly in another.
   Day 1 of 31 Days of Halloween was pretty smooth.  I can't really complain about it.  I'm glad I got to watch a silent movie for the first day.  It only feels right to start with a classic.
   Tomorrow is Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter which is going to be something I watch with my husband.  Let's see how it compares to the book!

Monday, September 30, 2013

31 days of Halloween

   When I was a teenager I LOVED slasher flicks.  I used to love watching anything that scared the shit out of me and I would constantly watch anything ghost, witch, exorcism, serial killer, etc related.  When I moved out on my own, scary movies were not so much part of my routine unless I was watching with someone else.  Even then, I'd still be paranoid as a motherfucker.
   I used to always want to watch scary movies to get me in the mood for Halloween, yet never did because well, I'm a chickenshit.  Granted, my husband and I have lived together for 5 years but I still rarely watch scary movies.
   This year, this year is different.  I have made a plan to watch one scary movie each day, whether I watch it alone or with my husband.  I'm also going to watch a few episodes of American Horror Story in addition to my movie list.
   I'm not going all Willy Nilly and just watching whatever suits my fancy, I actually went through Netflix and my own DVD collection and picked out movies that I have never seen (with the exception of one).  Most movies are pretty new (who knew so many scary flicks made in the last 3-4 years?) and there are a few classics.
   I've decided that I'm going to blog about these movies and just talk a bit about my paranoia and whatnot.  I mean, it can't be that bad can it?  I mean, I read scary books on occasion and we all know that books are far more detailed and scary than movies (what's scarier than an active imagination?).
   I'm using a mix or horror and thriller genre movies.  The first movie I'm going to watch is Nosferatu which I've never seen before but have seen many documentaries on.  I'm pretty effing stoked.  With me publicly proclaiming this, I feel I'm more apt to stick to it.
 Thirty-One movies.  Thirty-One days.  I can do this.

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Sleepwalking and Ghosts?

There are a couple of things I want to talk about.  The first being the fact that I may be sleepwalking.  I don't have any proof of this other than a sore tailbone.  I may or may not have fallen while sleepwalking and now I am totally uncomfortable.
   Now, my dad and uncle were/are sleepwalkers so this may be a contributing factor.  If I am sleepwalking, this fucking sucks and it's yet another fucking disorder to add to my plate.
   I know for a FACT I have not fallen while awake and I haven't drank since July 4th.  Even when I drink I don't drink to get stupid drunk (fear of hangover/vomiting) anymore.
   So, I really don't know how else to explain this sore tailbone.  I've woken up with other injuries before and never really associated myself with sleepwalking until just recently.  My mom thinks I should put a camera in our room to see what I do at night, but... what if I have some sort of weird Paranormal Activity experience?

Which leads me to my next issue I'd like to discuss, we may or may not have a ghost or ghosts.  Yes, plural.  This entity that we feel may be in our house started off as just a feeling of unease, at least with myself.  I've had a few odd instances before while being alone in the house, cold breezes across my body when no air was flowing, feeling like my hair was being touched... just things like that.
   Recently within the last few months, other things started to happen like stuff that was solid on shelves falling to the floor while all animals were with us in the room.  We even woke up one day to a figurine of mine being spun around the opposite direction it normally faces... and neither of us picked it up and moved it, also the dust (really it's pointless to dust frequently in the desert because once you dust, it's dusty again) was disturbed as well, if my husband or I had moved the figure, no dust would have been disturbed because we would have just picked it up and turned it.  
   Then a couple of days ago, my husband went into the garage to get cat litter and as he was trying to come back in the house, he heard a click and could not open the door because he was locked out.  I was just sitting on the bed watching TV (very loudly) with the dogs so I had no clue this happened till my husband was at our bedroom window asking me to unlock the back door.  I had no clue why he was asking this till I went to open the door, I thought maybe he had been outside and the sliding door had locked on him, nope.  He had hopped the back fence BAREFOOT, and had to navigate his way through random pokey shit (stickers, trees, rocks etc).  Once my husband had this experience, he truly started to believe me that we have some sort of entity or entities rooming with us.

Now, weird stuff used to happen near the garage while my husband's dad's ashes were in there, (ie cats meowing and frequently staring at the door like they were staring at someone) now the weird things have moved into the house when we placed my dead father in law's ashes in the house.  Things got even weirder once we brought the hope chest my grandma gave me into the house.
   Since I'm the only certifiable one in the house and now my husband is a believer, yeah... I'm kinda freaked out.  Hopefully things won't get worse than a few mischievous mishaps.

Thursday, August 29, 2013

The Hurting Game

   I don't like having the misconception out there that I have bad parents.  I know that I blogged about how my parents can sometimes make me feel, but this by no means is a good display of how I feel about them.
   When my heart is in pain, my immediate response is to write and get things out, I know that when writing on such a public forum, it's often hard to put yourself (and others) out there.  I write because I want people to know that they are not alone.
   I felt as though I was alone for years.  I thought that all the things that were going on inside me were mine and mine alone to deal with.  The moment that I became public about my issues, I found others who had similar experiences and would write to me and tell me how much my story reflected their own.  So I decided to continue in my quest of trying to cope with my inner demons and make it public for others to see that they are not alone by any means.
   Some of the things I write or say are immediate responses to how badly I hurt at the time.  I've always been the person to try to hurt someone as much if not more than they hurt me.  Just because I wanted to always be the one in control.  I wanted to be the one who hurt less.  I wanted to be the one inflicting pain, instead of the one who hurt so much that it was painful to breathe.
   As I grow older, I try to not hurt people and I try to be someone that people can come to, but sometimes I inadvertently hurt people without trying.
   My parents have and always will be 2 of my best friends ever.
   When I was younger, I could not fathom telling anyone about what my cousin did to me.  I always felt that no one would believe me and that I would get blamed in some way, shape or form for what happened.  "Why didn't you stop it?" "Why did you let it go on for so long?" "What exactly happened?" These were all the questions that I either never wanted to answer or could not find an answer to.
   When I finally came out with it to my parents, I was so embarrassed and disgusted by what had gone on, I wanted no one else in the world to know.  I wanted to put it behind me and never deal with it.  I wanted to forget everything about it.
   Little did I know that I would be haunted with nightmares and having this huge weight of this awful secret on my shoulders.  I became angry with the world and hated everything and every one.  I let this monster on my back ruin so many relationships and destroy myself for years.
   How does one come back from this?  How does one come up from a hatred that is buried so deep it's making it hard to see the sun?
   I told my parents about the molestation when I was 16 years old but I also asked them to keep my secret for me because of the shame that came with such a terrible past.  I wish that I could explain why I never came to them before that time, but I can't.  All I know is that I never wanted anyone to know and the only reason why I told them was because I wanted them to know that I wasn't trying to be an evil shit, I just didn't know how to deal with life at that point.
   I was an awful kid.  I would cuss at my parents and I would cut myself and I would tell them that I hated them because I was putting my pain on them.  I wanted everyone in the world to hurt as much as I did.
   I didn't know anything else.  I thought that telling my parents what happened would be a way to explain to them that I wasn't trying to be awful, I just hated myself.  Call it teenage angst or call it what it was, a mentally ill child that could not handle PTSD.
   In retrospective, I went about everything the wrong way.  I would definitely change everything I did, if I could.  What I did, I did for my family.  I never wanted to lose them.  That gave me an extra 17 years with my family that I would not have had if I had told my story back then.  I was right when I thought that my family would abandon me when I came out with the truth about that disgusting bastard.  Everyone except for my parents and a few others just left me out to dry.
   My parents and I have such a close relationship that we sometimes hurt each other without meaning to.  Yes, I am supersensitive now.  Yes, I take things to heart.  The good thing that comes from this?  It means that I can feel again.  I hated being such an ice queen and not feeling any emotions for so many years.
   I know that I have shitty ways of sometimes explaining things because my mind goes in so many different directions at once but I am trying.  I am trying to get my story out there.  I am trying to be a person that I can once again like.

Saturday, August 24, 2013

A Long, Hard Road Out of Hell

   I will admit to the fact that I am a difficult person to be in any type of relationship with.  Whether it be friendship or romantic or even related to me, I am a hard person to deal with.  I've always known this and I've always used it to my advantage to kind of "test" (I use this word because I can't think of any better way to describe it.) people to see if they truly do love me.  I mean, really, you only deal with difficult people when you love them, right?
   I honestly couldn't tell you why I do this, I'm sure if I sat there and really examined things, I'd get to the bottom of it, but one thing I know is "if you can't handle me at my worst, you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best" is something I've always seemed to live by.
   There are a few people who have seen me at my worst and still love me, those people are the people that I hold dear and let them truly see the person I am.  I've always told my mom that I know I'm hard to love, she says that loving me is easy, it's dealing with me that's hard.  Her and my dad have seen me at my worst.  They have seen me go through some of the toughest times in my life and they still love me, even when I hate myself.
   My best friend, Stephanie, has seen me hit rock bottom and has even dealt with my bipolar wrath, and she still loves me.  This is the type of person that I've always needed in my life but only in the last 11 years have come in contact with.  Most of my "friends" from my past have never loved me as she has.  If my inner demon has been invoked and she has to deal with that awful part of me, she simply lets me know that I will not be able to push her away, although I've tried many times.
   In my past, I've been the person who sinks into the darkness of depression and can't see any way out.  Usually, I've been alone when I get like this.  Now, I'm not alone.  I have my husband who has to see me when I'm enveloped in this darkness and can't see 2 feet in front of me.
   My husband has been there by my side for the last 5 years and he has seen the absolute worst in me and has stuck by my side.  Seeing me on occasion or a few days a week is nothing compared to living with me.
   I can be awful, I can be evil, I can be sweet as pie.  With the snap of a finger, my emotional roller coaster takes a dive and I am a woman possessed.
   I feel terrible when I become the evil part of myself and it's like an out of body experience because I can see the way I am acting, but I have no power to stop myself.  I can't put the brakes on the emotions.
   I know a lot of people look at me and they don't see a person with a disability or they can't understand why a person who seems as intelligent as I would act as I do.  Now, I wish I could control everything because if I could, I would not be so up and down with my emotions.  When I try to explain that I can't control myself, no one seems to understand.  I get told that I need to learn how to do this, but don't people think I've tried?
   I have been blessed and given a second chance at life.

   When I married my husband, I was reborn with a new name.  I left my old self behind.  I say this because I told everyone about being molested as a child by my cousin and that huge weight that was on my shoulders was lifted.  I may have lost my family by doing this, but I gained a new family built of those who love me enough to be by my side.
   For the last year and a half, I have dealt with being made to feel like a leper by the majority of my family on my dad's side (ever since I confessed the evil doings of the bastard sick fuck that molested me) and now, I haven't had as many nightmares as I used to and my therapy sessions were not focused on my being molested, they had moved on to other issues in my life (I have many) and that part of me felt like it was in remission.
   I still don't want anything to do with sick fucker, or anyone who has anything to do with him, but it's not because I can't handle it, it's because it's my choice.  I mean seriously, who the fuck wants to see the person that caused so much pain in their past, regardless of moving on?  It's like opening an old wound that has started to scar over.
   Ever since I realized that therapy had been focused on other things, I was able to to start dealing with this whole being bipolar crap.  I've been working on trying to understand who I am and how to deal with what is going on with me mentally.  Although I've been bipolar my entire life, it's only the last couple of years that I've had this diagnosis so I'm still trying to understand and learn a lot about dealing with everything that comes with learning something new about yourself.  Especially something as deep as mental illness.
   I don't want to deal with things the way I did in my past.  I don't want to go back to using alcohol or any other type of self medication.  I want to deal with this head on.  I want to learn to be the best version of myself that I can, despite my illness.  I want to take my bipolar by the neck and show it how strong I can really be.
   I know that I have a rough road ahead of me.  I know that most days, I will feel like my emotions are driving on the bumpiest road known to mankind.  I know that I will hit walls of depression, but I also know that I have a community of people (albeit a small one) who care enough about me to love me no matter how shitty I can sometimes be.  Because I will eventually get back to me, the person I was born to be, the person who loves so hard that it sometimes hurts.

Monday, August 12, 2013

When Your Brain Hates You...

So, I know I haven't blogged in a LONG, LONG time.  I've had a lot of things on my mind, but not the proper way to put the thoughts into words.
   I hate when I get like that.  For someone who lives for writing... art... books... it makes you feel like you are partially dead on the inside.  I know that people get tired of hearing the "woe is me" that is my life, so I rarely speak these feelings out loud.  I never say what I truly feel out loud.  I'm constantly wearing a mask and it kills me.
   I wish that I could for once be me and not fear that people will tell me to "snap out of it" or "stop being such a bitch" or "quit being so sensitive" or whatever other cliche it is that people tell those of us with mental illness because they just don'
  My heart hurts with the pain that I cause myself and others.  It's like watching yourself from above do all this self destructive shit and not being able to stop.
   I HATE when my parents say that I was a bad kid when I hit thirteen.  I hate that to no end.  Knowing what they know now, they should see that my being undiagnosed and being molested and having PTSD was what caused me to act like that.  It's not like I had any control over it.  Like I really wanted to be a shit?  Like I want to be the way I am now? NO.  I don't.  I hate this.
   I hate myself almost every day of my life.  Why give me more reason to hate myself?  Why give me more fuel to feel like complete and absolute shit about myself?  I know people don't mean to but when they point out my bad points, things that I really and honestly do not have control over (i.e. emotions) it breaks me in half.  My parents aren't the only ones that do this.  Almost everyone I know does this to me, probably thinking they are helping or not thinking at all... my grandmother tells me I'm spoiled, I'm not sure if this is to hurt me or what the fuck, but do people not think before they say shit?
   I'm a perfectionist according to my Psychologist and when I see that I am disappointing so many people with being an utter failure and asshole, it makes me feel like complete and total trash.  I feel like I'm not worth anything.
   When I hear how horrible a person I was/am, I feel so defeated.  I feel like if I suck so fucking much, why bother?  Why bother trying to do anything to please anyone?  Because every fucking thing I do in life is to please others.  I do nothing for myself any more.
   Ever since I fell down the stairs at my mother in law's on the 4th of July and became a complete fucking gimp, I feel like I'm worth even less than I was before.  I can't do anything without being in pain.  I can't sleep comfortably, I can't move around much, I can't even take a relaxing bath.  It's like I was handed a bunch of rotten lemons that I can't even use for lemonade.  What am I supposed to do with that?
   Now, I'm having a down moment right now because today sucked, but for the most part these last couple of months have been okay because I have been at a creative peak with my crocheting.  I think that since I had a shitty night and a shitty day, I just needed to vent.  I will be better and my next blog won't be as depressing.

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

It's just another manic... Tuesday?

   I've been really manic the last few weeks and in some ways it's pretty good for my creativity, but in others it sucks so much ass.  The reason why it sucks is because I've been pretty impulsive in many aspects of life and that includes personal...

   It's hard to explain but I love being manic for a few reasons but I also hate it for so much more.  I hate it because I'm so self destructive and I'm so fucking crazy but at times I feel like I'm so insanely happy that I am walking on a cloud.  A FUCKING CLOUD!!! I want to laugh, I want to cry.  I want to just fucking scream.  I can't tell which way is up or down.

   The other shitty thing is my sleep is kind of off.  It's like I don't want to do it.  I do it because I have to, but I don't want to.  I need my medication to make me do it.  I'm a lot more anxious and paranoid about things that don't exist.  I mean right now, I'm pretty lucid, I'm lucid enough to write this post so I know that things are crazy when I think of them but I'm not thinking of the crazy shit I normally think of so I can't really give you an example.

   Most of the time I live my life on the depressed end of the bipolar spectrum and that fucking sucks because being depressed sucks.  It's not something I choose, it's something that just happens.  I fucking hate when people tell me that I'm choosing to live my life that way.  Who the fuck seriously chooses to be depressed all the time?

  So being insanely fucking manic is a nice change.  I like it.  I'm not going to lie.  But I hate not knowing what each day is going to bring.  I hate not knowing where my head is going to be.  I hate not being able to sit down long enough to finish one fucking project.  I'm on a deadline here!

Thursday, May 23, 2013

Does My Anxiety Make Me Look Fat?

   I don't really remember when my anxiety became so bad.  I know it has gradually gotten worse over the years but I'm pretty sure I've always been anxious in social situations because of my appearance.  I know it's pretty effing sad but yeah, my weight makes me feel like people are looking at me and talking about me and saying mean things.  Because of this, it makes it so that a lot of times I really don't want to go out in public.
   It's really sad and pathetic when you think about it, but it's the hard truth.  People are cruel and mean.  People also don't teach their children manners and kids say rude shit.  A lot of times I pretend like I don't hear people but I do.  Even after losing a little weight, I still feel uncomfortable.  I'm sure that no matter what, I will probably always feel like people are talking about me because I've spent most of my life being the punchline to some asshole's sad attempt at a joke.  Despite what most people think, fat people do have feelings.
   Some people may say, "well, why don't you get up and exercise?" or "why don't you diet?" You know, I do and I have.  However, and it may not be an excuse to anyone but I'm bipolar.  I spend the majority of my time depressed.  Waking up every day is a chore.  I also have ITP so that adds to the fatigue.  Sometimes I get motivated.  I really do, but that motivation is short lived.  It may last a few days, weeks, sometimes months.  Then I get burned out or my depression returns and I start to cycle again.  It fucking sucks.
   Another shitty thing about my anxiety is that it's not only something in my head, it metastasizes into these physical symptoms.  It starts as this annoying itchy rash and I don't even notice most of the time, but I'm scratching like a frickin tweaker all over the place.  It starts in my legs and feet.  How fucking annoying is it for your effing feet to itch??? Then it's my thighs and my belly and my back.  Then I have hives on my chest and my arms.  It's insane.  I get tunnel vision and then everyone sounds like they are far away.  I do my best to ignore it, but it's really hard.  I also get irritable, but fuck, you try having itching powder all over your body and see how nice you can be.
   I try to make myself do things so that I don't become the hermit that I would prefer, but I'll be damned if staying home doesn't sound so much better than a lot of the things I make myself do.  This is why I hate being mentally ill.  It's a frickin handicap like no other.  Just because I smile and act like I'm okay, doesn't mean I am.  I'm just trying to deal with everything one day at a time.
   I just want people to know that they aren't alone with their anxiety.  They aren't alone with their bipolar.  They aren't alone with their PTSD.  This is just what I have to deal with... what do you have to deal with?  What are your ailments?

Friday, May 17, 2013

Where's Chief Bromden When You Need Him?

Being bipolar fucking sucks.  It really does.  Especially if you're an average Joe who doesn't have the cash flow like Catherine Zeta Jones to just check in for preventative care whenever you feel like it.  Most of us have to deal with it on our own.

I have to say, I'm really fucking tired of it.  I have enough mental shit to deal with, I hate this bipolar bullshit on top of my PTSD and anxiety/social anxiety crap.  Some people try to understand, but unless you are bipolar or have some other mental illness, you can't understand what it's like.

Hell, I wish I understood or could stop my mood swings or depression.  I wish I could control it better.  I try, I try really fucking hard, but sometimes it's just too much.  It consumes me.  It consumes all my energy and just drains me.  It makes me feel like I'm a huge failure because I can't be the person that I want to be.  I would LOVE to be fucking normal.  Unfortunately, I'm not.  I'm a fucked up basketcase.  I can't apologize anymore for who I am.

Some people tell me to stop using my illness as an excuse, you know what, it's not a fucking excuse, it's what it is.  I'm sorry that you aren't willing to accept me for what I am or who I am.  But what the fuck.  I spent years being strong and I spent years trying not to be so fucking sensitive and I became this fucking zombie.  I hated when I was like that.  When I was like that, I was so mean.  I was so fucking mean and I never cared about anyone's feelings because I was fucking numb and I couldn't feel anymore so I forgot anyone else could.

So now I'm extra sensitive and words hurt me and for the first fucking time in my life I am allowing myself to not hide behind this fake mask.  I am allowing myself to feel. 

My bipolar makes me want to punch myself in the face.  My PTSD comes and goes as it pleases these days.  My anxiety makes me want to crawl out of my skin and my social anxiety makes me want to just hide in a dark hole.

I hate being mentally ill.  The reason why I hate it is because everyone else treats me like I'm a leper.  Everyone makes me feel like I shouldn't be feeling my feelings.  It's like my feelings don't matter because they are not the same as everyone else's.  That's how people make me feel, just because I have mental illness.  Like the fact that I'm mentally ill negates the fact that I am also human.  If that makes any sense.

I don't even know what I'm trying to say anymore because I'm just so difjrewgoihsjdkjvnsxk y'know?  You know when there isn't even a work to describe it... and you just want to scream random sounds and punch your keyboard?  That.  That's what I am feeling right now.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Why I don't "celebrate" Valentine's Day

   Valentine's day has never really been a big day to me.  I've pretty much always been single around it so it's always been a day to make me feel like crap for being single.  The one time I did celebrate with someone, I found out 5 days later that I was the other woman.  So yeah, that wasn't much of a good memory for me.
   I used to exchange gifts with my close friends and we would spoil each other and those were good times, but it still wasn't a big deal.
   So when my husband and I started dating and 6 months later our first Valentine's came around, I had told him I did not want to celebrate.  Why would I make such a decision? You ask.  Well, we had been living together for a few months (yes, you read that right, dating for only 6 months yet living together for a few) so I had no worries of where our relationship status was.  I knew I had met the man I was going to spend the rest  of my life with.  I didn't need to be showered with the commercial gifts that are given by every man to their woman.
   I just didn't want CW to think that one day was good enough to spoil me.  I really am low maintenance in a lot of ways.  I don't need expensive jewelry or expensive gifts, but I do like to be pampered in love constantly.  So I told CW that I want love to be shown all the time, not just on ONE day.  So he agreed.  We wouldn't celebrate on a commercialized love holiday.
  During our years together, we never have celebrated Valentine's day. I don't shun it.  I don't down others for celebrating.  It's my decision for doing so.  My birthday is 8 days after Valentine's day.  CW's is 5 days after, that's when we get gifts.
   You know... the way CW and I celebrate all year long is the best.  He shows me he loves me by making me dinner and trying to make my life as easy as possible around the house and brings me home these little surprises here and there.  I am more of a surprising him with gifts and doing unexpected things for him type.  It just works for us.  I know that I may complain, I may bitch, but I'm writing out of emotion at the time because I need to vent.  In between therapy appointments, writing is my therapy.  :)

Monday, January 7, 2013

And the world sucks.

As promised, I'm letting everyone know what's going on and why I've been so depressed lately.  In my holiday blog I asked for everyone to send positive thoughts/vibes/prayers... essentially anything I prayed would help my mom's dog, Mayhem.
   We didn't know what was wrong with Mayhem at the time other than he hit his leg really hard and had a huge knot that would not go away.  The same thing happened to my Bubba about 3 years ago and it was cancer.  Bubba was 6 at the time, so he had lived a while for such a large dog.  He was about 5'7 when he was on 2 legs giving you a hug and weighed about 150lbs.
   Mayhem is a great dane, he's only about a year and a half and he is huge and precious and I fell in love with him the day the guy sent me his pic when we were searching for great danes.  He absolutely stole my heart and I loved him immediately.  I will never forget his huge puppy paws the first day we got him.  He may not be my dog, but I love him like he is.  I love all my parents' pets as if they were my own.
   After Christmas we took Mayhem in for x-rays to see what was going on, they said it looked like cancer.  How can that be?  He's just a baby.  So they took a biopsy and we got the news recently that it is official.  Cancer.  Fuck you, cancer.  You evil fucking bastard.  I hate you.  You've taken 2 aunts and 2 dogs and a cat that I loved.
   My heart is absolutely broken.  I can't handle this.  I just want to cry and crawl into a hole, but I don't.  I just love my furry ones and try to be strong for my parents.  I don't want to be, but I try.  So please, send positive thoughts/vibes/prayers for my family because we all feel as if we are losing a part of ourselves.

Thursday, January 3, 2013

tonight, it's a 2 drink minimum.

   I rarely drink anymore.  I don't like the hangover feeling so I just kind of stopped drinking.  I went from an every day activity to pretty much nothing.  I used to drink because I needed something to sleep.  I used to drink till I passed out and wasn't even trying to enjoy anything.  I just wanted to forget everything and go into a black sleep.
   When CW and I first started dating, we would drink together and it didn't even occur to me how much I was self medicating.  Since we've been together, I don't have as big a problem falling asleep when we go to bed together.  There are still nights when I don't want to sleep, but I do.
  Tonight, tonight is different.  I need a drink.  My heart is breaking into a million pieces and I can't say why quite yet.  It has nothing to do with my marriage, so please don't think that.  I will say more when the time is right.  I'm going back to the place I went when I needed something to soothe the pain just a little.  My go to place used to be cutting, but I'm afraid to do that because of the ITP so I guess in some ways having that has helped...
  I'm super depressed and I have a shitload on my mind.  I've been practicing my knitting to keep my mind and hands a little busy.  But yes, tonight it is a 2 drink minimum...