Wednesday, October 26, 2011

The blog I was going to write.

I was going to blog today.  I had something to say, or at least, I thought I did. But now I don't think so. You ever get to the point where you've done all you could and you just can't do anymore? I'm there. Everything comes full circle whether you want it to or not. Everything that starts eventually stops. What goes up must come down. And so on. Fuck it. I'm tired. Fuck the dishes and the laundry and the dolls and eBay and the Lawyer and my body and my mind and all the other shit I'm supposed to care about.

I'm going to do what I want. I want to talk to somebody. I want to talk to somebody who looks me in the eyes and hears what I have to say. I want a massage. I want to take a break and eat lunch. I want to laugh. I want to have fun. I want to feel like it matters.

Hope, who is taking a much deserved break from giving a shit.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011


So yesterday I'm at the store checking out... I won't say which one... only that it rhymes with Shwalmart

I swipe my card. Beep!  Error. Cancel.

I swipe my card again. Beep! Error. Shit. Cancel.

Cashier: " Oh...dats ok. Machine mess up. I swipe card."

I hand her my card.

Cashier: " Oh. Ok. Dis a Credit?"

Me: "No. It's a Debit."

Cashier: "Credit?"

Me: "No. It's a Debit."

Cashier: (looks at card) "Dis card?  Dis card is a Credit."

Me. "No. It's a Debit. You can run it as a Debit."

Cashier: "Oh. A debit? Oh...I..."

Me: "YES. It's a debit!"

Cashier: "Oh. Ok. I dunno...I run as debit...but..."

SWIPE! Beep!  Enter Pin.

Thank you for shopping.

Hope, who probably should have gone to Target.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011


Bowie didn't know what he was waiting for. Me neither. Change is a funny thing. All at once it can be both good and bad. It can positive and negative. It can cause pain and happiness. At times we struggle with it, fight against it even, and at times we crave it. In my own life it often seems that the things I want to change never do, and things I wish would stay the same, always change. That's the way it seems. But the truth is...everything changes. Even if we don't notice.

I'm going to switch it up a little today and take some sound and solid advice from the Serenity Prayer. I'm going to accept the things I cannot change and somehow work up the courage to change the things I can. And that wisdom thing...well...hopefully I have enough. I have only one goal in mind in doing this. I want to feel better.

And I will.

On a lighter note...My son woke me up at 2:30 am last night claiming he was hearing voices and could he just stay up and play the Wii? And...what kind of voices?  Apparently he asked a woman if he could have some bandages and she said... "Sure, take some."  Huh. I'm okay with that. She sounds back to bed.

Hope, who has turned and faced the strain.

Monday, October 10, 2011

Dear Insomnia...

Welcome back. It's been a while since I've spent so many quiet hours in the darkness listening to everyone else sleep. I'm sure you're back for a reason and I'm sure I know what it is.

So, here I am. I'm up. I've made the coffee and given up the tossing and turning. You win. Now what?  Now I write?  I suddenly feel like I've been hurled back in time...10, 15, 20 years. And here I am, again. Doing what I do, in order to keep myself from going mad. This seems to be the only reason I write anything at all. Ever. When things are going smooth or I am at peace I don't write anything. I don't even have the urge most times. Lucky (or unlucky) for me I have four blogs and several boxes filled with old journals to prove that I haven't been at peace very often.  That would have to be the way of it, wouldn't it?  I guess it's no accident that some of the best writers were either menatally ill or alcoholics.

Anyway. I don't expect to write anything good tonight/this morning...whatever the hell it is. I'm just, like I said, trying to keep from going mad. Have you ever stumbled across something by accident. Something you probably weren't supposed to see? Well for me, that hardly ever happens. Mostly because I don't stumble. I look. I look, and I look and in the end I usually find. But this time I wasn't looking, and it kind of threw me for the proverbial loop. So to speak. And then some. And so on. Blah, blah, blah.

And here I am. Left alone, in the dark, with my own thoughts. Racing thoughts, mind you, which are probably the fastest racing thoughts on the track. And as if the speed alone weren't enough, they also twist and turn around corners and ride up and down hills. It's like a god damn amusement park in my head. And yet, it is far from amusing.

So, yeah. Here I am. What I would love. Just absolutely love...would be sleep, of course...but after that...I would love to wake up different. To wake up as someone who just doesn't care enough to let things bother her. Someone who is at peace and let's all the shit just roll off her shoulders. (as opposed to having it take up residence there.)  I want to feel calm, secure, safe. I don't want to always have to have my guard up. To constantly be waiting for other shoe to drop. I don't. I really, fucking don't. But that won't happen today. Not just because I'm not going to sleep but because I think when it happens I will hear a snap. And I haven't heard it yet.

See? This is the kind of shit I write after no sleep. My arm is twitching from typing at a weird angle and my shoulders have tensed up again. Worrying about things I don't neccessarily need to worry about  is automatic for me. "It's in her nature", they said when I was a child. Maybe so. Not believing people when they say I should, or I can, is also a knee jerk reaction. But let's face it...when everyone who's ever said they would never leave has...what do we really have to base our trust on. I know, somewhere deep down in the rational side of my brain, that this is very juvenile and retarded way to think, and react, and feel. I KNOW that. And yet, like I said, it's pretty fucking automatic. 

Okay. So, let's see. It's almost time for more coffee, I guess. I could probably put the news on and get lost, momentarily, in the disasters of the world. Or I could watch a show on the DVR about some made up disaster. Either sounds more welcoming that sitting here in the one of my own making. So, I guess I'll do that. Until next time...

Hope, who doesn't know exactly how much time she has left, but does know she doesn't want to waste another minute of it feeling like this.

Monday, October 3, 2011

Who I am.

I know who I am. And it's not always pretty. In fact, it rarely is. I'm not supposed to say that though. I'm not supposed be so damn negatitive. Fuck you. I'm being a realist.

I don't "go through" things with other people. I've heard it said, although I'm still not sure what it means...that so and so "went through" something together. It brought them closer. They bonded. It made them stronger. Blah, blah, blah. I don't do that. I go through everything alone. I'm sure that is mostly my own fault, but in any case that's the way it is.

I know who I am. I'm almost forty and in the worst financial shape of my entire life. I'm scrambling to try save up the money to file bankruptcy before the credit card companies start suing me. It's not working out too well because at the same time I'm trying to live. Trying to enjoy a few moments here and there in what is normally an uncertain and stressful existance. I'm also trying to do things like buy my son eye glasses, and legos, and gold fish for his lunch box. It's a slow process and just when I think I'm doing well...I'm not. I go through this alone.

I know who I am. I'm an almost forty, single mother of a great son who can't hide the fact that he'd rather be with his Daddy. And why not?  His Daddy works when it's time for work. When Jack isn't there. His Mommy has to work all the damn time. It doesn't take a genius to figure out he'd rather be with the parent that will focus all his attention on him. The guilt is sometimes all consuming and while I know that when he is older he will only remember and cherish the times I played with him, and not the time I worked to buy him food or clothes...I still have no choice but to work and buy him food and clothes. I go through this alone.

I know who I am. I'm an anxiety ridden, almost forty year old who has absolutely no handle on the situation. No one in my life has ever understood this in a way that was helpful. People tell me to relax. Like that was an actual option. Like I'm given a choice between the two and I choose anxiety and panic attacks instead of a calm cool existance. Fuck them. The ignorance makes me angry. I'm trying to do what I can to make this better but it only seems to be getting worse. Taking medicine only reminds me that I'm failing. When the medicine doesn't work it only reminds me that I'm still sinking. I go through this alone.

I know who I am. I'm an almost forty year old woman with absolutely no coping skills when it comes to relationships. They wreck me. Some worse than others. I have trust issues. If you lie to me, I then have trust and anger and fear issues. Having something is harder for me than having nothing. When you have nothing you have nothing to lose. Nothing to fear. I have comminication issues, where in, I say too much. Always. I say more than anyone ever wants to hear. In return I get silence. Which in turn scares me. Because there is often more meaning in silence than in any amount of words that could be spoken. I don't know how to deal with the things that scare me. I go through this alone.

I know who I am. I'm an almost forty year old, decendant of a long line of self destructive alcoholics. I walk that line every day.  I use it as a place to hide. I use it as an excuse to run away. I use it to stop my hands from shaking and to forget about the bills I owe and to cope with all that I can't cope with. I know where that road leads. I see my mother when I look in the mirror.  I go through this alone.

I know who I am. I'm an almost forty year old woman who's hormones have apparently all boarded the crazy train, and who, according to her doctor, is most likely perimenopausal.  I was also told today to stop smoking before I "hurry up and die of cancer"...and that I'll be getting a mammogram in January, along with another biopsy. 

And I go through this alone.
And that, in a nutshell, is who I am. There's more sometimes, but right now, that is all that I am.

Hope, who was quite obviously not able to stand it.