There is some form of forward movement…

I’ve been lost for awhile.

Lost and angry. Mostly angry at that inanimate anger object that we all know we are angry at, but just can’t quite figure out what it is….. that thing.

Aren’t we all angry… a lot.
I shouldn’t assume it’s a “WE” thing.
Just seems like it’s a “WE” thing.

Oh, these moments.
These… “Fuck you all! I want to be alone because you all suck! None of you can be trusted. What’s the point, really?” Yeah, these moments. These indescribable, shitty moments.

Then Therapy Man does his thing and throws out the ole “But do you really want to be alone? Do you really want Lee to be gone? What if he was gone?”

Ya know what Therapy man, I don’t care? He can go! You can all go! But… in all honesty, I sat there and cried and tried not to blow snot bubbles out of my nose. Frozen in that anger!

And so I sat there… Truth is I do want to be alone. It seems so muh easier. I’ve had it with people and trust. I don’t even want to try, but I don’t want to give up either. I’m tired of pain. I’m tired of tears… don’t we (there’s that word again) all get tired of it and need to reboot?

I’m tired of putting in effort, but Therapy Man is also right and I know that.

I’m numb…. again. I used to like to listen to music, but I can’t. I use to run… nope! Normal just isn’t normal anymore. I can’t trust anyone anymore.

It all just sucks.

But, I know that I’m moving forward. If you’ve made it this far in the post, there is movement. I’m not attacking myself anymore. I’m angry. I’m tired. I’m shitty at the world. But, it’s not at myself. I’m guessing that this points to some form of forward movement….

Moving on…

Been awhile…


I am not at this place! Not by a long shot! But its a thought.

Had an appointment with my regular doctor yesterday. He has treated me for my psych stuff in the past. Something came up about borderline and he said that it has been his experience that most borerlines don’t admit that they have it… I can certainly see that. I think that if I don’t grab mine by the throat and accept it and try to “control” (for lack of a much better term) it will kill me.

Moving on…

F**king Disease


I don’t have to tell any of you what I am about to say. You are all familiar with it. But I have to say it for myself. I’m fighting so many demons. Earlier it was the Borderline Bitch. Now, the ever magical Depression Demons. It was super amazing out today. I can’t take credit for the photo because Debbie Depression had me shackled, frozen and confined to my loveseat in the Lego House. I love October and Fall more than any other season. But, everytime I thought I’d make my way to the door, actually to my room first to change out of the sweats I’ve been in since approx. 4:30 friday afternoon,  nothing… I couldn’t do it.

What the hell is that about anyway?

I have the tools. Heck I have a two-story tool cabinet with built-in bose stereo system full “how to get your ass in gear” tools for depression but, at that last nano-second, I swear to you, aliens take over every time and I panic – a non-panic attack – and I am renedered unable to function. I just say fuck it…..

The problem is today I gave up a beautiful day and an amazing opportunity to spend time with my 79 year old father. I constantly worry about the time I have with he and my mom and what do I do? I let the fucking disease rob me… again. I can fight it. I have spent my life fighting it. But today, a perfect day… I let it win. Fucking disease.

In other words… grow the hell up!


Yeah, this is directed right at me. I have tried … ok, that’s bullshit.  I haven’t tried at all.  I have coasted in hopes that the Pain – Fairy would swoop down and take me away in all of her glitter glory. I envision lots of purples and pinks and periwinkle… all the while, I have been giving in, whenever I have wanted, to sending horrible angry rants to a sociopath, (no really, I’m not calling the kettle black here) who isn’t even listening to a single word I have to say.

So I really don’t know exactly what it’s going to take. I’m a grown ass woman acting like a 16 year old. Some say it’s my borderline coming through and my guess is that they are perfectly correct.  That shit is tough as hell to fight.  I’ll take bipolar symptoms all day hands down. Some are suggesting my PTSD.  That makes me sad. I don’t want to think that I’m hurting others because I was hurt…. it’s not a merry-go-round for God’s sake. Or, maybe it is. The jury is still out on the God situation with me I am very sorry to say.

All I know is that I am on a merry-go-round for sure. Who is dumb enough to continue to bang their head against the wall looking for a different result!

Oh Snap!!! That’s right, the insane one does! And so… ladies and gents… maybe I am calling the kettle black … or, whatever. I’m not a sociopath for sure. I’m wayyyy too emotional for that one! Borderline, abolutely! According to Therapy Man, Borderlines and Socios do alot of hookin’ up. Again, nothing surprising about that!

Maybe I’ve been unfair to Danger Boy. Idk… ironically it was he who said to “Emotional-Millie” (that’s me) that it was time for him to grow up. He wanted to do right by his girl friend – the Police Chief. That lasted 19 days – he’s found a new one – all the while still playing hide the salami with his boss. So, show of hands, am I being too rough on poor ole Danger Boy? Ah, screw it. In a year from now will all of this matter? Idk, ask me in year… right now if I don’t find that fairy and get off of this merry-go-round I’m gonna have a breakdown… seems like a good time for some tunes….

Bring back the control!!! I am the Drama Queen!!!

So the fog clears and this is exactly how it happens…

it invades the peace… the thing YOU call peace.

there is no peace.

that’s the problem.
I want peace.
I want to sit back and let it in and enjoy my life…

but i can’t because … well, because I can’t.

it takes over.
YOU take over.

So, you ask me if I want the drama?
Fuck yes I want the drama  – because I can’t handle the peace.

it swallows me whole and I can’t breath.
Worse than the drama!

Ha, ha, ha… you thought I was out of control before.. out of my mind before!
Oh, Silly, silly, silly…

No not at all.
I was in control.
I can control that shit!
It’s the peace I can’t control
The everyday that I can’t control.

I can control the drama. I can’t control the peace.

I am the Drama Queen!
I reign over that shit!
I gladly take that over what you call peace.

It’s beyond what you consider “uncomfortable”. It’s slimy and frigid and clenching.. yes, clenching… and piercing.

It’ll kill you!
No, yes!
Well, it will kill me for sure!

I’ve tried this thing you call peace. Oh, I’ve tried.

Fuck yes I want drama! I can breath through that shit!

So, call me a control freak, a drama Queen… a borderline mess… whatever makes you sleep at night because that would be the point! I’M NOT SLEEPING! Bring back the control… or the falseness of it. I don’t care. I can’t continue like this.

… and they call it “courage”

continuing to breath no breathe…

exhausted by no thoughts and vacancies in my brain.
an empty brain full of thoughts that won’t leave.

I don’t know where to go
I don’t know what to do…

I cry because I am crying.
How the hell is that possible?
When is that going to stop?

there is a battle with no enemy and yet I am fighting everyone and everything in my way.

I’d leave but there is no where to go.
I’d check out but that isn’t even an option.

I can’t stop.
I can’t go…
I can’t think because there is nothing to think about.
Yet EVERYTHING is in my way!

I have fought and I have given up the best I can.

Are you listening to me?

I am talking to you, damn it!

This is all your fucking idea!
I have been there for you!
I have followed your fucking rules.
Not perfectly, but I HAVE TRIED!
The rules that don’t even exist!

I think you enjoy this.
I can’t wrap my head around it any other way.
Because there just… isn’t… an explanation.

it’s your game. you started it and you just keep spinning all of us around and around. There is no end to it. you want us this way. you have kept us this way from the beginning of time. you don’t care if we are young or old,  “perfect” in your image or scum…

no. you just do whatever you want… it doesn’t fucking matter.

i never claimed to be the child that you wanted. i knew from the beginning that i didn’t have a chance. but what about the ones who did? the ones who do? you turned your back on them … you do it every second of the day… Every! Second! Of! The! Day!

seriously? what’s the point? You decide… “they” say we have a choice… I call bullshit!

Oh, but i won’t quit because i don’t have it in me to quit…
i will continue to carry this pain and this anger and this fear with me day in and day out…

and “they” have the audacity to call it courage… what I do everyday… “courage”. what a joke…
the ones who quit… they call that cowardice?

…………………………… have a nice day.




Wait… For…. It…

I recently bought a lottery ticket. Yes, I did. Ya see the Counting Crows AND Sarah McClachlan both released an album in this decade…

There is a little know genre of music I like to refer to as “the Magical, Lyrical, Musical Genius” Genre and while not too many people would group these two in any other fashion… they would find them under this category FO SHO….

IT NEVER FAILS… I said this when the Crows album was just released, that whenever I am at a HUGE crossroads, the FLY BOYS are there and the NEXT THING I KNOW… Sarah comes crashing through also!!!!!! I was doing CARTWHEELS in my backyard last night! Little Boo was so confused (Little Boo is the basset hound). Maybe it’s a song. Maybe it’s the music. Maybe it’s the way she plays that damn piano! I don’t know, but she’s there. When I feel like NO ONE IS THERE anymore… there she is. Someone has found me again.

I choose this tune. It’s not her best of the album, I’m sure. I haven’t had a chance to get through it completely the way I’d like. It’s difficult to keep headphones in your ears while doing cartwheels and toe touches and such. But this one spoke to me last night… after my therapy session.

More to come, I’m sure.

Over and out …..