So I’m trying to reach up, and climb out, dig through all of this garbage that I have collected and most importantly created. It’s smelly and scary and revolting. Childish – yes, very childish. But mostly it’s deep and tangled in this… l don’t know… just mess. It has roots, oh yes, very deep roots. And branches that have grown miles just in the last few weeks.
The problem is that it’s so fucking intriguing. Almost as if the more I create the more I want it to continue. But, the anger that came out of it. And, the reactions? Damn it if it wasn’t at all what I wanted. They weren’t playing right!
I mean really… if you are going to play. Play right. I realize it’s hard to keep up at times, but come on.
I was so far in my head at times that I was psychotic – seeing things and feeling things that I was still very sane enough to know weren’t happening to me. And one would think that you could realize if you were still that together at that point that it’s “game over”, Jami. Pack it in for your sanity, babe. But, it would seem that when I am hell bent on destruction – zooming around in a spaceship with other spaceships on the highway isn’t a enough to snap my crazy-ass back into reality. It was enough to get me to pullover and “phone a friend”, but look out world, after this break, round 15 is back in play.
Sadly tho, for Crazy Jami, I was able to put it to rest. No, you can applaude that. Or, call 911 and still have me committed or stop reading. All of the above. I understand. Please know I AM NOT trying to make light of the seriousness of that mess. If I went into the actual behavior you probably would stop reading anyway. Or wonder what the fuck? Why isn’t she committing herself? That is the scariest I have been non-anxiety wise… non-screwed up med wise… since the 80’s. It was straight up bipolar, borderline behavior like I have never seen… from a 48 year old woman on top of it…
I am seriously surprised I am not locked up somewhere – hospital or jail. Or dead. I am SO grateful that I’m not.
Now I have to deal with the fall out. Not so much that of who I lost. I didn’t lose anyone I didnt need to lose. I have to deal with behavior that I thought was gone. That I thought as a 48 year old woman I could honestly live my life knowing I was free from.
This is where shit gets real.
This is the frustration. ..
This is the exhaustion.
This is the anxiety… the “oh shit, the other shoe just fell” reality.
Yeah, I threw a toddler fit. But I came apart on every level possible. I kept telling myself that everyone gets angry. Everyone goes through stuff like this. I worked hard all summer to be able to stand up to somethimg like this. I can do this….
That’s what I told myself…
And I lost it… straight to hell in a handbasket.
I don’t know what’s next. I’m safe and that is huge. I hate the saying, but every day is a new day. So that is something in my favor. Good news is that I only had one more shoe to fall. Out of shoes… so… back to the books I guess. I don’t know.
That’s all I got. I do write alot during times like this. Most of it will seem like nonsense because its just me talking to myself. Which is what I do anyway. Understand that I am really in my head still…
Just a warning. ..
Over and out.