So, after over a week of going without, I got a frappucino (cafe vanilla, what else?) at Starbucks on my way home from buying groceries. Apparently, depriving yourself of caffeine for that long, then getting a venti makes you productive as hell. Of course, I wasn't *completely* deprived of caffeine--just of the sugary goodness of frappucinos.
I managed to get a lot accomplished today. I also managed to do a lot of fucking around, LOL. But I think I did ok, anyway.
I've pretty much worked myself into exhaustion now. Thank God. It shuts my brain up so I can sleep when I do that. So I'm thinking of a snack and then bed because I need to do some more work tomorrow. I'm ahead of the game this week, and I'd like to stay that way for when Kitty and ChaosKitty roll into town. :)
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Birthday, In Retrospect
Well, my birthday didn't suck nearly as much as I was afraid it would.
ChaosKitty, feeling guilty for not being here, though it wasn't her fault she couldn't make it, wished me happy birthday at least twenty times, starting at midnight, then on throughout the day. After I got up this afternoon, she'd posted on my Facebook wall a couple of times and continued to tell me until it was no longer November 28th. I expect she'll tell me happy belated birthday several times when she gets here, too, LOL.
Kitty met me in Pell City for dinner. I was really grateful for this, too, since I so didn't want to spend the entirety of my birthday alone. It was a lot of fun. Kitty is great to hang out with, and we celebrated as best we could, surrounded by singing--yes, singing--children. She's coming on Friday, too, so I expect there will be more fun times to be had with those two soon.
My deepest, most hidden wish didn't come true, but I wasn't holding out a lot of hope that it would, anyway.
I'm tired. I've worked all day, and I didn't sleep well last night. It's bedtime, I think.
ChaosKitty, feeling guilty for not being here, though it wasn't her fault she couldn't make it, wished me happy birthday at least twenty times, starting at midnight, then on throughout the day. After I got up this afternoon, she'd posted on my Facebook wall a couple of times and continued to tell me until it was no longer November 28th. I expect she'll tell me happy belated birthday several times when she gets here, too, LOL.
Kitty met me in Pell City for dinner. I was really grateful for this, too, since I so didn't want to spend the entirety of my birthday alone. It was a lot of fun. Kitty is great to hang out with, and we celebrated as best we could, surrounded by singing--yes, singing--children. She's coming on Friday, too, so I expect there will be more fun times to be had with those two soon.
My deepest, most hidden wish didn't come true, but I wasn't holding out a lot of hope that it would, anyway.
I'm tired. I've worked all day, and I didn't sleep well last night. It's bedtime, I think.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
It's My Blog, And I'll Whine If I Want To
Ok. I know this is stupid. But you know what? Fuck it. If I want to whine, I'll damn well whine. I doubt anyone's going to see it, anyway, and if they do, they shouldn't be here reading if they don't want to see me whining.
My birthday is Monday. I will be 28, though in Bunny years, that's 22 because when I hit 25, I started going backwards. I am terrified of getting old. I'm not so much afraid of dying, but of aging...because I'm a vain motherfucker.
If that's shallow, I'm sorry. If it's vapid, I hate it. Tough shit. That's me. I've always been vain, shallow, and narcissistic. I doubt I'm going to change in my old age. The hell with aging gracefully. Old age will have to drag me kicking and screaming.
I've been going gray since I was 15, but that's nothing a little hair dye can't cure. But I noticed a couple of days ago that I'm getting fine lines at the corners of my eyes. And there's nothing that can be done about that. My face has started the inevitable downhill plunge, and I'm powerless to do anything as I watch my youth slip away.
I don't care if I'm being overdramatic. That's how it feels. I'm rapidly hurrying into the autumn of my life, and I'm not happy with it.
I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my 30th birthday will involve me locking myself in the bathroom with a bottle of Jack Daniel's and probably cutting myself in an oh-so-emo manner while I sit in a hot bath and wail over my lost youth.
I feel like I'm losing everything.
The worst thing, though, is that I'm going to be alone on my birthday. I know, it's stupid. But I've never been alone on my birthday. ChaosKitty was going to come, but due to circumstances beyond her control, she won't be able to make it until Tuesday or Wednesday. So, yes, I will spend the whole day alone and bemoaning my sad, sad circumstances.
I'm glad ChaosKitty's coming, though. Really, really glad. I even found out that she's been scheming to buy me A LAPTOP for Christmas because she knows I need one and can't buy one myself. I told her I didn't want her to do that, of course, and that I didn't do all the things I did for her in hopes of getting something in return, anyway. She kept insisting that if she could scrape up the money, she was going to do it. I really hope she doesn't because I'll feel unbelievably guilty if she does.
But you know what? Honestly, just having someone give that much of a shit about me is enough to make me cry. Nobody's ever even *thought* of doing something that awesome for me before to my knowledge. It's...amazing.
But despite that, I'm still depressed as hell about Monday. I feel like it's foreshadowing for the rest of my life--getting old and being alone.
People keep asking me what I want for my birthday and Christmas. I give noncommittal answers because a.) there's really nothing I'm just dying for, and b.) if I can't have what I really want/need, what's the fucking point, anyway?
Honestly? I'd give anything in the world just to hear their voices, to hear them tell me happy birthday. But it'll be a cold day in hell before that happens, so I'll probably just buy a bottle of $3 wine and "celebrate" by drinking all by myself.
*Sigh* I hate my life right now. :(
My birthday is Monday. I will be 28, though in Bunny years, that's 22 because when I hit 25, I started going backwards. I am terrified of getting old. I'm not so much afraid of dying, but of aging...because I'm a vain motherfucker.
If that's shallow, I'm sorry. If it's vapid, I hate it. Tough shit. That's me. I've always been vain, shallow, and narcissistic. I doubt I'm going to change in my old age. The hell with aging gracefully. Old age will have to drag me kicking and screaming.
I've been going gray since I was 15, but that's nothing a little hair dye can't cure. But I noticed a couple of days ago that I'm getting fine lines at the corners of my eyes. And there's nothing that can be done about that. My face has started the inevitable downhill plunge, and I'm powerless to do anything as I watch my youth slip away.
I don't care if I'm being overdramatic. That's how it feels. I'm rapidly hurrying into the autumn of my life, and I'm not happy with it.
I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my 30th birthday will involve me locking myself in the bathroom with a bottle of Jack Daniel's and probably cutting myself in an oh-so-emo manner while I sit in a hot bath and wail over my lost youth.
I feel like I'm losing everything.
The worst thing, though, is that I'm going to be alone on my birthday. I know, it's stupid. But I've never been alone on my birthday. ChaosKitty was going to come, but due to circumstances beyond her control, she won't be able to make it until Tuesday or Wednesday. So, yes, I will spend the whole day alone and bemoaning my sad, sad circumstances.
I'm glad ChaosKitty's coming, though. Really, really glad. I even found out that she's been scheming to buy me A LAPTOP for Christmas because she knows I need one and can't buy one myself. I told her I didn't want her to do that, of course, and that I didn't do all the things I did for her in hopes of getting something in return, anyway. She kept insisting that if she could scrape up the money, she was going to do it. I really hope she doesn't because I'll feel unbelievably guilty if she does.
But you know what? Honestly, just having someone give that much of a shit about me is enough to make me cry. Nobody's ever even *thought* of doing something that awesome for me before to my knowledge. It's...amazing.
But despite that, I'm still depressed as hell about Monday. I feel like it's foreshadowing for the rest of my life--getting old and being alone.
People keep asking me what I want for my birthday and Christmas. I give noncommittal answers because a.) there's really nothing I'm just dying for, and b.) if I can't have what I really want/need, what's the fucking point, anyway?
Honestly? I'd give anything in the world just to hear their voices, to hear them tell me happy birthday. But it'll be a cold day in hell before that happens, so I'll probably just buy a bottle of $3 wine and "celebrate" by drinking all by myself.
*Sigh* I hate my life right now. :(
Disturbing
Last night, I had one of the most disturbing dreams I've ever had--quite possibly the most disturbing dream I've ever had. It was incredibly realistic and vivid. I could also feel emotions as the dream me was having them without the real me realizing it was a dream, which doesn't happen very often. Usually, my conscious mind breaks through and goes, "Oh, it's just a dream. Wake up, stupid." That didn't happen this time.
I don't know how to explain the beginning, as it's all rather convoluted. It doesn't matter, though, because it doesn't have a whole lot to do with the story itself, anyway. So I'll basically just start in the middle instead.
I dreamed that the three of them were all living in my town: Kitty, J., and him. They all lived together, and I was living alone or else with ChaosKitty. I'm not entirely sure because ChaosKitty was with me a lot of the time, but I don't know for sure if she was living with me or not. I guess it doesn't matter either way.
Anyway, I ran into the three of them in town a lot. I tried to avoid them, but I couldn't. It hurt me every time I saw them, and I talked to ChaosKitty about it a lot, as she was the only one I could talk to about it. (Funny how that imitated life, huh?) She told me that I needed to approach them in a conciliatory manner and try to talk to them if I wanted to mend fences because she could see that my being at odds with them was causing me huge amounts of pain. (Also a funny imitation of life.)
So I made up my mind that the next time I saw them, I'd talk to them.
Then, something happened. Everyone in town was evacuated into two (large) abandoned buildings. I have no idea why we were all relocated, but dream logic applies, I suppose.
ChaosKitty and I were put into one building, and the three of them were put in the other one. Everyone was restless and bored, but there wasn't a whole lot we could do. ChaosKitty and I sat by the window, watching the sun go down and talking.
We were still sitting there after it got dark. Off in the distance, we saw a brightly-lit object approaching in the sky. (I think it was probably a helicopter, but I'm not sure.) I pointed it out to her and asked her what she thought it was. She had no idea, either. We watched it fly closer and closer and noticed that it seemed to be flying awfully low to the ground.
It swung around toward us, and we saw that a searchlight had been switched on. The light swept over the building we were in and landed on the building the three of them were in. Suddenly, the thing opened fire. It wasn't a bomb--I think it was machine gun fire. They sprayed it all over the building as we sat there, paralyzed and unable to even breathe.
Once the people inside the thing were sure they'd shot the building up enough, they flew away. I jumped up to run to other building to see if the three of them were ok. ChaosKitty was right on my heels because she wasn't going to let me go in alone.
It looked like a war zone in there. There were dead bodies everywhere. We didn't recognize anyone at first, so we just kept picking our way through the people and trying to find them.
Finally, I stumbled across him. He was alive, but so shell-shocked that he was practically catatonic. There was no sign of the other two. ChaosKitty and I kept at him, trying to see if he knew where they were or what had happened to them. Eventually, we managed to discern that J. was dead, according to him. He had no idea what had happened to Kitty.
I left him with ChaosKitty and went to look for the others. I couldn't find either of them. I became increasingly frantic, but before I could uncover any more information, all the ambulatory people were herded out. ChaosKitty and I led him out. He staggered around, his arms over both our shoulders so that we could support him, the thousand-yard stare in his eyes. He was broken. Every now and then he'd look up at me with his unfocused eyes and whisper that he loved me, and then he'd look away again, but that was all.
We got him inside the other building and found a place to sit him down. While we waited for someone to attend to us, ChaosKitty and I talked. I told her how guilty I felt that I hadn't warned the people in the next building that something was coming, but she told me that there was no way we could've known what was about to happen. Even if we'd told them something was flying overhead, she said, they probably wouldn't have thought anything of it, either.
Someone--a doctor, I think--came to attend to him. I left him in that person's hands, so that I could go back to look for Kitty and J. ChaosKitty, of course, came along with me. She wouldn't let me go alone. We had no confirmation that J. was really dead, but we didn't know if she was alive, either. Equally bad was the fact that we had no report at all about Kitty, for better or for worse. Right before we stepped into the shot-up building the second time, I woke up.
When I awakened and realized it was all a dream, I couldn't do anything. I lay there, stock-still, barely able to even breathe. Apparently, upon awakening, I was the one who was shell-shocked.
When I was finally able to move again, I got up to go to the bathroom. Daddy was sitting in the den and said something to me, but I wasn't even able to say anything intelligible. I came back to bed and lay there some more, unable to do much of anything.
Eventually, I was able to gather my wits about me enough to pick up my phone and text Kitty to see if she was ok. I do shit like this semi-regularly because I have terrible dreams a lot, so she didn't think there was anything out of the ordinary. She confirmed that she was ok, and I didn't really elaborate on the dream, and that was that.
Still, somehow, that dream affected me in ways I can't even put into words. I don't want to go back to sleep tonight for fear that I'll dream it or something similar again. I'm not sure I've ever had a dream disturb me quite like that one did.
I have no idea if the dream itself means anything or not, but it was brutal, either way. I wish I could describe how it affected me, but I can't. It was like I woke up without a soul, as if I'd somehow lost it in the horrors of the dream world. The (presumed) death of J., his loss of touch with reality, and Kitty's disappearance all worked together to make me a completely empty shell of a human being until I was sure I was awake. And even then, it took a little while.
God, the words just sound so paltry. I can't explain it. I really can't. But just thinking of it makes me feel sick, so I'm going to stop talking about it now and lay down to read happy things before bed, in hopes that that will prevent me from having another dream like that one again.
Dear God, PLEASE don't ever let me have another one like that ever again.
I don't know how to explain the beginning, as it's all rather convoluted. It doesn't matter, though, because it doesn't have a whole lot to do with the story itself, anyway. So I'll basically just start in the middle instead.
I dreamed that the three of them were all living in my town: Kitty, J., and him. They all lived together, and I was living alone or else with ChaosKitty. I'm not entirely sure because ChaosKitty was with me a lot of the time, but I don't know for sure if she was living with me or not. I guess it doesn't matter either way.
Anyway, I ran into the three of them in town a lot. I tried to avoid them, but I couldn't. It hurt me every time I saw them, and I talked to ChaosKitty about it a lot, as she was the only one I could talk to about it. (Funny how that imitated life, huh?) She told me that I needed to approach them in a conciliatory manner and try to talk to them if I wanted to mend fences because she could see that my being at odds with them was causing me huge amounts of pain. (Also a funny imitation of life.)
So I made up my mind that the next time I saw them, I'd talk to them.
Then, something happened. Everyone in town was evacuated into two (large) abandoned buildings. I have no idea why we were all relocated, but dream logic applies, I suppose.
ChaosKitty and I were put into one building, and the three of them were put in the other one. Everyone was restless and bored, but there wasn't a whole lot we could do. ChaosKitty and I sat by the window, watching the sun go down and talking.
We were still sitting there after it got dark. Off in the distance, we saw a brightly-lit object approaching in the sky. (I think it was probably a helicopter, but I'm not sure.) I pointed it out to her and asked her what she thought it was. She had no idea, either. We watched it fly closer and closer and noticed that it seemed to be flying awfully low to the ground.
It swung around toward us, and we saw that a searchlight had been switched on. The light swept over the building we were in and landed on the building the three of them were in. Suddenly, the thing opened fire. It wasn't a bomb--I think it was machine gun fire. They sprayed it all over the building as we sat there, paralyzed and unable to even breathe.
Once the people inside the thing were sure they'd shot the building up enough, they flew away. I jumped up to run to other building to see if the three of them were ok. ChaosKitty was right on my heels because she wasn't going to let me go in alone.
It looked like a war zone in there. There were dead bodies everywhere. We didn't recognize anyone at first, so we just kept picking our way through the people and trying to find them.
Finally, I stumbled across him. He was alive, but so shell-shocked that he was practically catatonic. There was no sign of the other two. ChaosKitty and I kept at him, trying to see if he knew where they were or what had happened to them. Eventually, we managed to discern that J. was dead, according to him. He had no idea what had happened to Kitty.
I left him with ChaosKitty and went to look for the others. I couldn't find either of them. I became increasingly frantic, but before I could uncover any more information, all the ambulatory people were herded out. ChaosKitty and I led him out. He staggered around, his arms over both our shoulders so that we could support him, the thousand-yard stare in his eyes. He was broken. Every now and then he'd look up at me with his unfocused eyes and whisper that he loved me, and then he'd look away again, but that was all.
We got him inside the other building and found a place to sit him down. While we waited for someone to attend to us, ChaosKitty and I talked. I told her how guilty I felt that I hadn't warned the people in the next building that something was coming, but she told me that there was no way we could've known what was about to happen. Even if we'd told them something was flying overhead, she said, they probably wouldn't have thought anything of it, either.
Someone--a doctor, I think--came to attend to him. I left him in that person's hands, so that I could go back to look for Kitty and J. ChaosKitty, of course, came along with me. She wouldn't let me go alone. We had no confirmation that J. was really dead, but we didn't know if she was alive, either. Equally bad was the fact that we had no report at all about Kitty, for better or for worse. Right before we stepped into the shot-up building the second time, I woke up.
When I awakened and realized it was all a dream, I couldn't do anything. I lay there, stock-still, barely able to even breathe. Apparently, upon awakening, I was the one who was shell-shocked.
When I was finally able to move again, I got up to go to the bathroom. Daddy was sitting in the den and said something to me, but I wasn't even able to say anything intelligible. I came back to bed and lay there some more, unable to do much of anything.
Eventually, I was able to gather my wits about me enough to pick up my phone and text Kitty to see if she was ok. I do shit like this semi-regularly because I have terrible dreams a lot, so she didn't think there was anything out of the ordinary. She confirmed that she was ok, and I didn't really elaborate on the dream, and that was that.
Still, somehow, that dream affected me in ways I can't even put into words. I don't want to go back to sleep tonight for fear that I'll dream it or something similar again. I'm not sure I've ever had a dream disturb me quite like that one did.
I have no idea if the dream itself means anything or not, but it was brutal, either way. I wish I could describe how it affected me, but I can't. It was like I woke up without a soul, as if I'd somehow lost it in the horrors of the dream world. The (presumed) death of J., his loss of touch with reality, and Kitty's disappearance all worked together to make me a completely empty shell of a human being until I was sure I was awake. And even then, it took a little while.
God, the words just sound so paltry. I can't explain it. I really can't. But just thinking of it makes me feel sick, so I'm going to stop talking about it now and lay down to read happy things before bed, in hopes that that will prevent me from having another dream like that one again.
Dear God, PLEASE don't ever let me have another one like that ever again.
Friday, November 25, 2011
Things I Am Thankful For
I figure, since it's Thanksgiving--or was until 40 minutes ago--I should write a post about what I'm thankful for. That way, when I get completely overwhelmed with life, I can go back and look at this list and remember why I'm proud to be alive...theoretically, anyway.
So, in no particular order, here's the list of shit I'm thankful for.
1.) I'm thankful that I have a roof over my head, something to eat, and all the basic necessities taken care of.
2.) Corollary to Number One: I'm thankful that I'm able to accomplish this by myself with the one (basically useless) talent I have in this world. My lifelong dream has been to support myself with my writing and regardless of the fact that it's really not the most noble kind of writing, I am still making my way in this world with my pen--or keyboard, as it were. So at the age of *cough, mumble, cough*, I have already managed to achieve one of my life's greatest ambitions. The other one is getting rich...and I'm working on that one.
3.) I'm thankful for the miracle of modern medicine, without which I would be raving in the street somewhere at best or locked up in an insane asylum at worst. I'm also grateful that I live in a time where there are drugs that can control my symptoms without any really bad side effects. The gagging and the transient Parkinson's-like tremor are annoying, but not nearly as bad as being BATSHIT CRAZY.
4.) I'm thankful for the friends I have who've been there for me when I needed them.
5.) I'm thankful that I'm still alive because if not for the combination of Numbers Three and Four, I probably wouldn't be. Life may suck, but as long as I'm here, it has the chance of getting better. I'm not one to back down from a fight.
6.) I'm thankful that I realized that there were certain people in this world who had/have a vested interest in "keeping me crazy" or keeping me believing that I'm crazy. Because of this realization, I've been able to keep these people at arm's length and not allow them to destabilize me.
7.) I'm thankful that Kitty has given me not a second or third or fourth chance, but probably a 9,527,413,086th chance. I'm lucky to have her in my life, and I'd be a fool not to recognize that. I'm glad she's been willing to give me chance after chance after chance that I didn't deserve.
8.) I'm thankful that a lot of the mysteries of the Universe that have bothered me for a long time are finally starting to become clear, at least in my eyes. Seek and ye shall find, indeed. I hate to sound like an annoying church person, but I'm grateful that God, whomever he/she/it/we/they are, has/have allowed me to learn what I've learned and understand what I'm coming to understand. This probably deserves its own post, but I've written 6 750-word essays tonight, and my eyes are burning, so that'll probably have to wait 'til some other time.
9.) I'm thankful that my mind is finally (mostly) quiet and that I can look at myself in the mirror nowadays and (mostly) like what I see.
10.) I'm thankful for being able to be self-employed in this shitty economy. I'm happy that my business is growing like it is, and I'm glad I've been able to give some other people a helping hand, small though it is, as well.
11.) I'm thankful for the peace of mind I'm slowly finding through combinations of Numbers One through Ten.
12.) Obligatory family reference here, which includes some people who aren't related to me by blood and excludes some who are.
13.) (Lucky Number Thirteen.) I'm thankful for the hope I see for the future and the partial redemption I have achieved. I can only hope that this trend will continue, and I will be able to achieve complete redemption. (No, I don't mean that in a religious way.) God knows, I've gone to hell and back multiple times, and I've clawed my way out inch by precious inch of this dark, dark hole. Now that I'm out, I feel that I owe it to others to try to redeem myself. I also feel that I deserve to be happy, probably for the first time in my life.
So there you have it. All the things I can think of that I'm thankful for.
So, in no particular order, here's the list of shit I'm thankful for.
1.) I'm thankful that I have a roof over my head, something to eat, and all the basic necessities taken care of.
2.) Corollary to Number One: I'm thankful that I'm able to accomplish this by myself with the one (basically useless) talent I have in this world. My lifelong dream has been to support myself with my writing and regardless of the fact that it's really not the most noble kind of writing, I am still making my way in this world with my pen--or keyboard, as it were. So at the age of *cough, mumble, cough*, I have already managed to achieve one of my life's greatest ambitions. The other one is getting rich...and I'm working on that one.
3.) I'm thankful for the miracle of modern medicine, without which I would be raving in the street somewhere at best or locked up in an insane asylum at worst. I'm also grateful that I live in a time where there are drugs that can control my symptoms without any really bad side effects. The gagging and the transient Parkinson's-like tremor are annoying, but not nearly as bad as being BATSHIT CRAZY.
4.) I'm thankful for the friends I have who've been there for me when I needed them.
5.) I'm thankful that I'm still alive because if not for the combination of Numbers Three and Four, I probably wouldn't be. Life may suck, but as long as I'm here, it has the chance of getting better. I'm not one to back down from a fight.
6.) I'm thankful that I realized that there were certain people in this world who had/have a vested interest in "keeping me crazy" or keeping me believing that I'm crazy. Because of this realization, I've been able to keep these people at arm's length and not allow them to destabilize me.
7.) I'm thankful that Kitty has given me not a second or third or fourth chance, but probably a 9,527,413,086th chance. I'm lucky to have her in my life, and I'd be a fool not to recognize that. I'm glad she's been willing to give me chance after chance after chance that I didn't deserve.
8.) I'm thankful that a lot of the mysteries of the Universe that have bothered me for a long time are finally starting to become clear, at least in my eyes. Seek and ye shall find, indeed. I hate to sound like an annoying church person, but I'm grateful that God, whomever he/she/it/we/they are, has/have allowed me to learn what I've learned and understand what I'm coming to understand. This probably deserves its own post, but I've written 6 750-word essays tonight, and my eyes are burning, so that'll probably have to wait 'til some other time.
9.) I'm thankful that my mind is finally (mostly) quiet and that I can look at myself in the mirror nowadays and (mostly) like what I see.
10.) I'm thankful for being able to be self-employed in this shitty economy. I'm happy that my business is growing like it is, and I'm glad I've been able to give some other people a helping hand, small though it is, as well.
11.) I'm thankful for the peace of mind I'm slowly finding through combinations of Numbers One through Ten.
12.) Obligatory family reference here, which includes some people who aren't related to me by blood and excludes some who are.
13.) (Lucky Number Thirteen.) I'm thankful for the hope I see for the future and the partial redemption I have achieved. I can only hope that this trend will continue, and I will be able to achieve complete redemption. (No, I don't mean that in a religious way.) God knows, I've gone to hell and back multiple times, and I've clawed my way out inch by precious inch of this dark, dark hole. Now that I'm out, I feel that I owe it to others to try to redeem myself. I also feel that I deserve to be happy, probably for the first time in my life.
So there you have it. All the things I can think of that I'm thankful for.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Perceptions
I was talking to ChaosKitty online a couple of days ago, and the conversation turned to the time when she, Kitty, and I all lived in the house together. We were trying to recall some of the things that happened during the spring and early summer of 2010. Turns out neither of us have very good memories of the time. Whether it's due to our blocking it out or our brains being fried from being so crazy (or both), I don't know.
We were both at pretty shitty points in our lives then. She was manic/mixed, doing quite a few drugs--some prescription, some not--and getting totally plastered every night. I was manic, flying into rages, and randomly binge drinking at times myself. There are very big chunks of memory that are just...gone. For both of us. (And, really, it's probably for the best, given the circumstances.)
Anyway, we were discussing the fact that, while we'd managed to make everyone around us hate us, we'd hadn't managed to alienate one another. Neither of us could figure how we'd pulled that one off. We still haven't, really.
ChaosKitty did pull out an interesting theory, though, which was that perhaps we appear completely different to others than we appear to ourselves. I knew she was having a hard time, and she knew I was having a hard time, despite the fact that neither of us had a whole hell of a lot of insight at the time. (She may or may not have been hallucinating people walking across our backyard--that may never be conclusively determined--and I was convinced that the second I closed my eyes at night, demons or something equally terrible were going to jump out of the walls and attack us.)
I think she's right. I believe that the truly batshit recognize it in others and are willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. Other people, however, just think we're assholes and treat us as such.
I'm not saying we *weren't* assholes. We may have been. I'm just saying that we probably didn't *mean* to be assholes and that we recognized that in one another, though no one else around us realized it.
Ok, I was going to try to end this with something poignant, but, honestly, it's 5 am, and I'm tired. I'll just leave you with a little MB20, since this is Down The Rabbit Hole With Bunny, and "we're all mad here."
We were both at pretty shitty points in our lives then. She was manic/mixed, doing quite a few drugs--some prescription, some not--and getting totally plastered every night. I was manic, flying into rages, and randomly binge drinking at times myself. There are very big chunks of memory that are just...gone. For both of us. (And, really, it's probably for the best, given the circumstances.)
Anyway, we were discussing the fact that, while we'd managed to make everyone around us hate us, we'd hadn't managed to alienate one another. Neither of us could figure how we'd pulled that one off. We still haven't, really.
ChaosKitty did pull out an interesting theory, though, which was that perhaps we appear completely different to others than we appear to ourselves. I knew she was having a hard time, and she knew I was having a hard time, despite the fact that neither of us had a whole hell of a lot of insight at the time. (She may or may not have been hallucinating people walking across our backyard--that may never be conclusively determined--and I was convinced that the second I closed my eyes at night, demons or something equally terrible were going to jump out of the walls and attack us.)
I think she's right. I believe that the truly batshit recognize it in others and are willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. Other people, however, just think we're assholes and treat us as such.
I'm not saying we *weren't* assholes. We may have been. I'm just saying that we probably didn't *mean* to be assholes and that we recognized that in one another, though no one else around us realized it.
Ok, I was going to try to end this with something poignant, but, honestly, it's 5 am, and I'm tired. I'll just leave you with a little MB20, since this is Down The Rabbit Hole With Bunny, and "we're all mad here."
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