Human Beings Are Creatures Of Habit

Quote 2016-07-20 Miss Poison Life, Quotes Karen Berg, Life, Quotes

“Human beings are creatures of habit. We may do something today simply because we did it yesterday, without much thought or awareness. Yet, the Creator is opposite. Every single part of creation is born anew each day. No two clouds are like. No two blades of grass grow in exactly the same way.

And so, as we grow closer to that Divine Force, we are asked to approach our lives the same way: To become more cognizant of our thoughts, our words, and deeds; to strive to make this world a better place because we existed; and to live with the awareness that each day is a fresh opportunity to bring Light to others near and far.” -Karen Berg

Your Obstacles

Image 2016-07-11 Miss Poison Honesty, Images/Photos/Quotes, Life, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Failure, Honesty, Images/Photos/Quotes, John Edward, Life, Obstacles, Pain, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Struggling, Writing

I’m going through something awful at the moment; I’d never wish this on another human-being because it is horrible and torturous. There’s no one reliable for me to turn to for help. The person I thought I could depend on has progressively become unreliable, as they so often say one thing and do another, and because of that, I feel like a complete and utter failure. I’ve trusted in them and their lies, in their idea of “love”, and while I feel immense gratitude in many respects, I don’t like being told a bullshit story when I’m in trouble and/or suffering.

I’d love to say “This is just another challenge and I can rise above this.”, but the truth is, the pain is destroying me. Knowing that I will either succeed or lose everything is killing every last bit of hope within me.

Only two people know what’s going on. I’m legitimately afraid to go to anyone else for help of this magnitude. I cannot bear the thought of more excuses or being turned away again, especially in a time of crisis. I cannot tolerate feeling so jaded by the behavior of others through lies.

The past few years has genuinely taught me who my friends and family truly are. So, in the face of the nightmare I am trying to handle this week, I don’t have much to offer here. I’m devoid of so much I’d normally be able to say, or want to share. It’s rare for me to feel so emotionally broken, but that’s precisely where I am at this moment.

I pray I’ll have better news at the end of the week. If I don’t, I honestly don’t know if I’ll be able to continue on here.

Certain things/people/situations shouldn’t bring us to our knees, but they so often do. I pray no one else ever has to go through what I am.

Within You

Image 2016-06-26 Miss Poison Images/Photos/Quotes, Life Dreams, Images/Photos/Quotes, Life, Robert Adams

10377444_752805744767863_515923498864215888_n — Within YOU; me not so much. LOL.

Kinder To Myself

2016-06-16 Miss Poison Honesty, Life, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Health, Honesty, June, Life, Migraines, Musings, Poison In Lethal Doses, Summer, Temperature Sensitivity, Writing

I hope everyone is having a wonderful week and that you’re all taking brief moments for yourself in order to re-group and center yourselves before the upcoming weekend.

This past weekend was relatively full, but I didn’t get any time to zone out and do things I truly enjoy. I feel as though I have forgotten a lot of what I do enjoy because my life has been a daily battle for so long. I promise to set aside some time for myself soon where I am able to focus solely on me, and nothing else. I need a break, and preferably this time, I’d prefer it to not be a bone. 😦 My toe is healing really well, thankfully. I spent 4 1/2 days off of it as much as possible, using ice regularly. I was immensely relieved when the swelling went down for good. I was able to walk over the weekend with little to no pain, so I feel incredibly blessed. Unfortunately, everything else hurts. That’s not pleasant in the least, but thank G-d for small favors.

The whole point of doing something for yourself, even if that means taking a few hours to breathe fresh air and commune with your own thoughts in a neutral setting, is crucial so that you don’t remain trapped in your own head, which is quite easily a prison of your own making. 😦 I’m an extremely internalized person, so when I feel trapped in any way, it doesn’t encourage me to communicate with people. But being able to escape means I get to be myself, to engage with others, and remind myself that the negativity thrown at me is untrue. It helps put me back into the correct perspective because the person who knows me best is me, and unfortunately, I take a lot of things to heart when I shouldn’t. I cannot and will not spend my days being insulted by anyone, regardless of who they think they are. There are limits and boundaries to what I will tolerate. I am making big changes in my life and while the end result make shock some people and upset others, I have to do what is right for me. I have to, for the first time in my life, be selfish and prioritize myself. It’s a slow process because it goes against who I am, but I will get there. I will succeed.

It will officially be summer next week and this is generally the time of year when I go into full-out hibernation mode, only leaving the house to quickly run errands in air-conditioned settings and then return. If you’re not photosensitive and don’t suffer from heat sensitivity, consider yourself incredibly lucky. I cannot be outside for long periods of time in any type of heat. Basically, if it’s over 70 degrees and there’s no breeze and the humidity is 50% or higher, I will get sick. It drains my life force, dehydrates me almost instantly, and leaves me weak and ill. I’m not an outdoorsy type by any stretch of the imagination. If it’s not somewhere between 40-68 degrees, I am subjecting myself to all sorts of crazy things that I’ve been dealing with for quite some time. Fibromyalgia has definitely changed how I function and seeing as how I also suffer from migraines, I feel like I have to travel even 20 minutes away with a medicinal arsenal. For me, the sun and the heat and humidity are immensely evil.

As I sit here, I am trying to cope with a migraine I’ve had for three days. It’s never “just a migraine” either. My entire head and neck hurt like hell. The only reason I can type is because my eyes aren’t bothering me at the moment, but I suspect that’s next. I am hoping my most recent dose of pain reliever does SOMETHING to alleviate some of this because while it IS working, it’s only giving me short bursts of relief. I legitimately need it to rain so that I can potentially feel better. As of this moment, it’s not scheduled to rain at all for the next ten days. The last thing I want to do is suffer a full week like this. If it seems as though my migraines have worsened since my move, that would be 100% correct. They have increased by over 60% and based on my research, it is due to my proximity to the ocean. In all fairness, when I lived further inland, they were much more intense pain-wise and they were certainly chronic, that hasn’t changed, but I didn’t begin tracking them until this past September, so it’s not fair to blame location alone. But in all honesty, no one wants to lose so many days to horrific headaches that do not respond to medication or alternative treatments. When you’ve tried everything, you eventually lose your patience. I don’t have a lot of patience to begin with, so whatever I did have in regard to my migraines died a long time ago. I know that’s not the greatest attitude to have, but inside that attitude are tiny shreds of hope that the next treatment, and I already know what it will be, will work. It’s legitimately my last hope unless something else comes up with a higher success rate sometime this year.

Suffering from migraines is unpredictable. People don’t understand why I say “no” to invitations, but it’s usually because I never know if I’ll get slammed with a migraine and be sick. In a room full of 50+ people, it’s bound to happen. I’m wise enough to avoid my major triggers as much as possible, but some days I simply want to live my life as though they don’t exist.

Tomorrow, I am going to attempt to do just that. I hope that it’s enjoyable for me because I’ve spent far too many days, weeks, and weekends locked up, hiding from the sun and all stimuli, because hearing the radio or even just someone’s voice, makes me sick to death. I keep the door cracked for Cat and Kitten because they like to check on me, but even just a crack of noise is too much when I’m this sick. I wish people understood that and were able to be more respectful. C’est la vie. I cannot expect out of others what I grant, but I’m tired of repeating myself.

In case I am silent this weekend, I wish all of my subscribing fathers a Happy Father’s Day. I lost my father almost nine years ago and it’s hard for me to discuss it because in my family, Father’s Day wasn’t as big a deal as Mother’s Day was. However, there are some truly amazing Dad’s out there and they’re deserving of a day all their own. Especially the few I know who are widowed and raising a child or children solo. It’s a tough job, no matter how you look at it.

I’ll be back as soon as I can. Blessed Be.

Sometimes You Don’t Need…

Quote 2016-06-16 Miss Poison Life, Quotes Life, Quotes, Sophie Kinsella

“Sometimes you don’t need a goal in life, you don’t need to know the big picture. you just need to know what you’re going to do next!” ―Sophie Kinsella

Off

2016-06-072016-06-07 Miss Poison Life, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Broken Bones, June, Musings, Physical Pain, Poison In Lethal Doses, Stupidity, Writing

I feel immensely “off” this week, and it’s only Tuesday. 😦 When I’m asleep by 8:30 on any given night, there’s generally a reason. Last night, it was a combination of exhaustion, pushing myself all day to remain awake on little-to-no sleep, being in pain, and it’s possible the heat had something to do with it, though it wasn’t intense, it was quite soul-sucking.

Today, upon waking around 1:45, I found myself feeling like an idiot. A little over five hours of sleep and I’m sitting here just before 6:00 a.m., feeling like a zombie. Going back to sleep isn’t a real option. I have work to do and while much of it is nauseating, boring, and as soul-sucking as the heat, it’s still gotta get done. I wish I had a clone of myself to do it all.

I’m grateful that my broken toe is feeling somewhat better. To make a long story short, I needed to get out of my head and breathe last week and that involved a three mile walk. Despite limping the day before (I have NO idea what I did or when I did it to cause the initial limping to begin. Normally I can say “Oh, I walked into this…” or “I slammed my foot into the staircase.”, but this time I legitimately have NO solid leads as to how I hurt myself.), I was determined to fight past it. I HAD to get out of the house and function like a normal person without negativity in my head. My personal stupidity was telling me “You’ll be outdoors in cool air, you’ll get some exercise, you’ll clear your head.” I did feel reasonably peaceful once I was out and walking, but limping up and down hill isn’t cute, nor is it fun. By the time I got back from my relatively short trek into nature, my right foot and ankle were already beginning to swell. I’d spend the next four and a half days with ice packs wrapped around the worst of it. It hurt SO bad that my left foot was starting to have sympathy pains, right up until the point where, at three a.m. on Monday, I walked right into a table leg with the same toe, to match the one on my right foot. So far, that one hasn’t given me any indication that it’s broken, so we’ll call it a bone bruise, as that’s likely what it is. I still can’t walk properly, but I’m continuing to do my best to get to the first stage of healing.

My “company” this weekend was deeply imbedded in the books I’m reading. I got back into “Bones Never Lie” by Kathy Reichs, a book I’d started when it first came out in 2014 and simply got too busy to read at the time, and her most recent book, “Speaking In Bones”, which I am almost done with. I’ve got a stack of other potentially interesting finds to read next, and when you’re injured or can’t sleep, it’s a perfect way to educate the brain and/or escape into a different world for a while. I was also able to burn six CD’s worth of music to my digital library, which makes me happy. Sometimes, it’s the small things that are huge for you in times of distress and/or pain.

My brother did make it out of the second operation okay, but the road to recovery is long and may result in some permanent nerve damage. If ever you suspect you have any kind of infection, there is an immense difference between 7:00 a.m. and 7:00 PM, and that difference could be your life, so please, don’t be as stubborn or as stupid as he (way too often) is.

I hope everyone has a pleasant day. I am off to edit something confusing. What else is new?

doyoumeantotellme — I think this is only fair, don’t you?

Dance Around The Flame

Image 2016-06-01 Miss Poison Honesty, Images/Photos/Quotes, Life Honesty, Images/Photos/Quotes, Inspiration, Jacob Nordby, Life

Rough Waters

2016-05-30 Miss Poison Life, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Battles, Challenges, Heartache, Life, Love, My Brother, Pain, Surgery, Writing

My brother was rushed into emergency surgery Saturday. I spent most of the day stressed out, upset, trying to reach him. Most of my text messages sounded frantic, but that’s precisely how I felt.

I already knew he was in the hospital, but I’m used to hearing from him semi-regularly, so when I go nearly 24 hours without contact, I do start to worry. A lot. Even when I’m mad at him, I still keep him apprised of things, and vice versa.

This past month I’ve learned a lot about the people in my life. I never knew my brother was “ride or die” for me until all this horrible shit happened where it affected us both as a family unit. People are placing limitations on something you give freely; love. That is the exact opposite of who I am and how I was raised to be. I refuse to allow other people’s interpretations of life, love, etc., change the core of who I am. All I can do is pray for them, because they seemingly need more help and healing than I do. 😦

My brother has endured a quadruple bypass, of which he’s still not fully recovered. He has been in and out of the hospital for months due to various complications and illness. The surgery on his wrist was a matter of life and death, and I am incredibly grateful to the OR nurse he met Friday evening who told him something wasn’t right with his wrist and that he needed to get to the ER pronto. She even recommended the hospital where she works, and that’s exactly where he went. Without question, her intervention saved his life because he thought it was something else and was simply going to take some Aleve for the pain and swelling. He would be dead if not for her speaking up in a public place and me yelling at him when he sent me photos of how bad it looked. I told him it looked really bad and that he needed to go the ER immediately. Who does he see up in entering the OR the following day? The very same nurse. She looked at him, trying to place his face, and finally said “Didn’t I see you a few hours ago?” There are Earth Angels out there and I am grateful to anyone who is looking out for my brother in such a manner.

Surgery #2 is tomorrow, with potential for a 3rd or even 4th operation as the week progresses. The surgeon told him, point-blank, that if he’d waited another day, he would have lost half of his arm to infection. Just hearing that this evening made me sick to my stomach. He’s attacking the infection to the best of his ability because he doesn’t want my brother to lose his hand and wrist.

I thank the hospital in Bucks County, PA that is taking such good care of him. I’m far more freaked out about this surgery than I was the heart surgery, because with his heart, they kept telling me he was young and his chances of survival were high. But with a superbug? It’s terrifying to hear “We don’t know how you got this or where it came from. All we can do is attack it with everything we’ve got, be proactive, and hope & pray for the best.”

So if you’re sitting and thinking about how rough your week is about to be, please keep my brother in your prayers. I’ve lost so much already. I cannot afford to lose my brother too.

Head Meet Sink

2016-05-27 Miss Poison Honesty, Life, Musings, Pain, People, Poison In Lethal Doses, Uncategorized, Writing Emotional Support, Friendship, Health, Honesty, Life, Loyalty, Mental Health, Migraines, Mood Disorders, Musings, Observations, Pain, Personality Disorders, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing

I detest going from graceful human-being to absolute klutz. Try explaining cuts, burns, bumps, and bruises to people without looking like a battered woman. It’s damn near impossible.

A few months ago my right wrist was covered in scratches of varying lengths. To the average passerby, it would have looked like I’d tried to harm myself. All of them were merely superficial idiocy, except for the cat scratches. The unhealed scar is, thankfully, far from any veins or tendons, so if someone was looking, hopefully they wouldn’t be thinking anything untoward.

However, explaining the stupidity of hitting my head not once, but twice in a day, is much more complicated. In attempting to organize something in the powder room the other day, I didn’t realize how close my head was to the sink and whack! It was a stupid accident, with me somehow thinking I had a lot more space than I did. The second was pure stupidity minutes later when I turned to move a rug (Because hey, I already had my head down. Don’t be disgusting, I was straightening something.) and my forehead smacked into a metal toilet paper holder. Not the kind attached to the wall, the kind that sits in a bathroom and is both a method of storage and “in use”. Believe it or not, that hurt far worse than the sink. 😦 Perhaps it was the angle. I debated going to the ER for an MRI or a cat scan, but it’s too soon to know with any certainty if I have a concussion. I don’t want to ask someone to go with me for very personal reasons. Yes, I could have called 911, but it’s not a true emergency. However, as I sit here writing with a headache I cannot get rid of and a spot on my forehead that hurts pretty bad, to the point where I hope it bruises, I am concerned. I’m trying not to be though, because focusing on it too much will only result in stressing myself out. The headache is bad enough without additional stress, and Lord knows this has been an eye-opening week. 😦

I’m in the process of making an appointment to apply for insurance in this state. I’ve already waited over 72 hours for the person who handles this to get back to me. I am hoping she is on vacation and/or extremely busy because I hate having to call anyone twice to make an appointment for something that is supposed to take “about an hour”. Call me crazy, but returning a phone call with dates and times of your availability and writing one down isn’t THAT difficult. It’s less than five minutes of your time. My previous insurance is not accepted here, so I have to begin the application process from scratch. I’ve never dealt with a more asinine online system in my life, and that’s saying something. I tried, I really did. My patience level went below 100 and that was the end of it. Unless you have the patience of a saint, getting the forms filled out online is going to make you throw things, curse, etc. Here’s hoping it only takes a few months because I am still paying off a medical bill from last year when I didn’t have insurance.

For anyone to say to me “But that was last year…”, as if they know how much the bill was and/or what was done is courting disaster. If you actually care, ask me what happened. Have you ever looked at what doctors charge people without insurance? It’s astronomical, because they don’t make enough via insurance companies per patient and they absolutely pass that down to the uninsured by making us suffer in a myriad of ways. It was more than one visit and more involved than I’d like to discuss. I will need to find a new dermatologist as soon as I have insurance because other issues have come to the surface and I have every reason in the world to be concerned. The whole “discuss this with your primary care physician” crap gets old when you need referrals for everything. I’ve never been a fan of the referral system. I feel we should be able to see the participating providers we want to see within a reasonable time-frame. When you say something is serious, you don’t want to be told they have an appointment for you in January of next year. It’s reached a point where doctors are overbooked and completely full of themselves. Especially the ones that are always “on vacation”. Monthly?! Perhaps you’d like to adopt me.

People who have relatively decent health, and those who go to the doctor for every wrong turn, do not understand the trials and tribulations of those of us who are suffering, especially those of us who suffer chronically. They might temporarily empathize and/or sympathize, but I can tell you from personal experience that being aggressive with me about anything will get you absolutely nowhere. Unless I’ve asked for your medical opinion, I’m perfectly capable of figuring shit out on my own. Always have, always will. I’m many things, but I am NOT a moron. And if you don’t truly care about me, I don’t need your “medical opinions” on health issues you don’t personally have.

A migraine sufferer would prefer to discuss migraines with another migraine sufferer. A Fibromyalgia sufferer would prefer to speak to someone with an autoimmune disease than someone who openly debates why you are “always sick” or “always in pain”. Seriously? No, I’m not truly in agony. I just like to say that I am for shits and giggles, especially when it keeps me in bed for days at a time! 😦 Pain is pain. I’d appreciate mine not being denounced by anyone who hasn’t experienced it for themselves. Mind you, I would not wish this on anyone, but I do wish people remained compassionate instead of having an expiration date on their feelings. I don’t roll like that. My loyalty is everlasting, and it’s something I am proud of. I would rather hold someone’s hand and weather the storm together than pretend the storm does not exist and walk past them multiple times a day, as though nothing is wrong. I cannot be fake like that, and I won’t be. My tolerance for false behavior is nil.

I find it unsettling that many people don’t understand the difference between someone being real and a person being some sort of manipulative mastermind. Since this has been implied to me, I have to question the sanity of anyone who knows me and could think such a thing. One, I don’t have the time to mastermind anything that isn’t intelligent, creative, and going to benefit my life and future happiness, and two, I pride myself on being real. Being a manipulative bitch takes up time and effort I don’t have in my daily life. It is also a sheer waste of energy.

Whenever I have an issue with someone or something, I go directly to the source. I don’t act like a child and behave like a psycho when it is far easier and more mature to sit down with the other person and discuss the problem once cooler heads have prevailed. I expect that kind of behavior from a teenager, but when an adult does it, it’s a turn-off. Be they male or female, it’s ugly, and not something I can respect. If you have an issue with me, please come and talk to me about it. Things can always be discussed without resorting to nastiness. However, if nastiness keeps you focused and content, by all means, stew in it. I genuinely want to see where it gets you.

After being treated so viciously this week, I made sure a close friend knew that I’m here for her no matter what, 24/7. I would rather listen to you and support you through the good and the bad, as opposed to pretending all is right in the world. When my friends and family suffer, so to do I, but as someone reminded me this week, it is important to cut negativity out of your life for good. By proxy, I am a realist. I can be negative to and about myself, I have moments of pessimism and optimism, but I am not walking around with a negative attitude to direct at the world. If I did, people would not respond to me the way they do. I wouldn’t receive messages of encouragement, people would simply say nothing or discuss me solely behind my back. I am certain the latter does occur, I simply don’t care. To each their own. If that brings you genuine comfort, so mote it be.

My life has changed drastically in the past year, and in truth, the past nine years haven’t been a fucking picnic. I have been through absolute HELL, and therefore I have compassion for those who have also suffered. Those who know that about me, but continue to hurt me by spewing venom, hatred, lies, and twisting the truth to make themselves feel better are only hurting themselves. I find myself embarrassed for you. Simply by existing, you are not superior to me, just as I am not superior to you. You can work with me or you can beat a bloody horse for all I care (that’s literal, I am not promoting the abuse of animals), but I won’t accept emotional and verbal abuse in a polite manner.

I have found that when people attack you, it’s mainly because the issues lie with them. They refuse to look at their own shortcomings in the mirror and face facts, so they lash out at those closest to them. Someone ought to study people like that. I can’t decide if they’re fascinating to watch (kind of like a psychological thriller) or if they’re simply psychotic beyond words. I don’t find mental health a laughing matter, but I do wish people who can take medication and feel better by doing so would stay on the damn stuff. When they don’t, I feel like they blink red within my life. “Danger! Stay away!” But then you see them talking to someone else as if they’re perfectly normal and you question sociopathic behavior much more closely. When a person shows no capacity for love, that’s a sure sign for me.

My doctor once explained to me that we ALL display traits of personality disorders (Personally, I was mortified.), but it doesn’t mean that we indeed have one. I test at 5% or under for all major personality disorders, so I feel confident that while I am reactive, and not the first person to join and/or play well with others, that there is a reason behind my methods, and being hurt is at the top of that list.

As I stated previously, my tolerance for false behavior is nil. I know when someone isn’t being 100% honest with me and while I will occasionally allow that to slide if it’s unimportant, I will absolutely call someone out on the big things. I may not do so right away, as everyone responds differently to your approach, but I am done being hurt and lied to. It is an unfortunate inevitability that it will happen again between now and the end of my life, because life is still life, but much like this bump on my head, I don’t have to accept it.

I promise to be more careful with my head if other people promise to drain the endless negativity within themselves in the God damn sink.

Wishing my American cohorts a pleasant holiday weekend, as we celebrate Memorial Day. For all my other readers, make sure you enjoy your weekend, too. Don’t drink and drive and wear plenty of sunscreen.

therapist — I highly doubt it. No one knows all about me.

Boiling Point

2016-05-23 Miss Poison Adult Orphans, Anger, Depression, Honesty, Life, Musings, Pain, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Anger, Courage, Depression, Emotional Pain, Honesty, Life, Negativity, Observations, Pain, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Strength, Suffering, Writing

Fact: I am seriously contemplating ending my life. No one knows what’s going on, or cares, but I feel it’s important to talk about.

I walked away from self-harm at least a dozen times last week, maybe more. I have no strong desire to actually carry it out, but we cannot “cure” the thoughts that go through our minds.

It’s not any one thing in particular, it’s a multitude of things, all of which are out of my control. Ultimately, I often feel that lack of control is what makes us feel so out of control. I believe it leads to a lot of rational irrationality.

I’ve never hidden the fact that I come from an abusive background. If asked, I am quite vocal about it. Hell, I’ve written about it many times. My father was the bane of my existence from age six until about 2000 or so, when his health began to rapidly decline, culminating in his death, a 15 year battle with cancer that ended in late 2007. I cannot put a Band-Aid on my upbringing, but I try very hard not to allow it to define me. For the most part, I am successful. I don’t dwell on it. It’s done and it’s in the past, but lately it’s other forms of neglect, abuse, disrespect, & abandonment that have just plain left me in tears. What’s worse? This behavior makes my father, G-d rest his soul, look like a fucking angel by comparison. That’s probably what affects me more than anything else.

Nothing I do is ever “good enough”. I know that’s ridiculous, but when that is what is projected to you constantly, you either walk away or you tell someone to go fuck themselves. For the past 4-5 years, I have worked very hard on my anger issues. I’ve talked about that quite openly. Therefore, so as not to act like my father, I try to curse less and not tell people exactly what I think of them and their behavior, even if they deserve it. I don’t accept or allow it, I just disengage with the crazy. I cannot talk to a psychopath, to people who don’t hear me out thoroughly, or to anyone who believes everything they say is right 100% of the time. It may be right in their mind, but their mind and mine are two completely different places/worlds. That’s true for everyone, or we’d be living in a very bizarre utopia.

No matter how hard I work, it’s not “good enough”. How many times a day does someone need to be insulted, talked down to, and/or disrespected? How many days of the week, month, year, before they snap? The term “going postal” isn’t meant to be cute. It stems from things building and building in the workplace (or in some cases, ones’ home life) until someone finally loses it. The same thing can happen in a person’s daily life, and it doesn’t have to involve murder and mayhem, it might just be a verbal argument. One can hope, any way.

There is an immense difference between constructive criticism and venomous hatred and resentment. I am educated enough to know the difference in how people speak to me, and I am sick and tired of being told that everything I think & feel is wrong. Statistically speaking, it’s impossible for me to be wrong 100% of the time, just as it is impossible for someone else to be right 100% of the time. I don’t aim for perfection, but I will not have anyone question my perception of others. I’ve got two words for that mind-set: FUCK THAT. You can agree to disagree with me, but don’t deign to tell me you’re right and I’m wrong. No. Unacceptable.

Voicing thoughts, feelings, and opinions isn’t wrong, but I am constantly being told I am wrong. After a while, even a person with the highest I.Q. starts to lose their mind. After a while, any sane person is going to get tired of hearing such nonsense.

The only thing that is saving me is the love of Kitten. During the worst of my dark thoughts, when I wasn’t sure if I could bear another second, leave alone a minute, she’d crawl into bed with me, give me kisses, bring me toys, & watch over me with great affection. Cat followed, both of them refusing to let me out of their sight. How is it that two little creatures understand my pain better than actual people? I find that sad and pathetic for the human-race, but a real win for the animals in this world who are superior in terms of compassion, empathy, and love. My cats know more about love than 99% of the people I know, and that is truly saying something. They know me better than most people, and I’ve had them such a short period of time compared to the relationships in my life, yet they know me better, inside and out. People are emotionally harming me, but my cats? They wouldn’t even scratch me intentionally. Again, it speaks accolades for them. Clearly I did something right, and that “something” was adopting and raising them. They love me unconditionally. It is a special relationship, and not something to ever be taken for granted.

Words have power, and sometimes that power is destructive and extremely harmful. Be self-aware. Realize that you sound like a vile human-being and dial it the fuck down.

When someone is visibly suffering, or even silently suffering, they do not need your drama, venom, hatred, or negativity. Don’t pretend you don’t see it or sense it. Put it away. Stash it in another country, because I do not mean shelve it for a week, and focus on showing them that they matter, because eventually, all your shit might push them over the edge and the only person who will be left with grief isn’t them, it’s you.

I know so many people who, after years of far worse than what I deal with and have dealt with, simply took matters into their own hands, leaving people wondering why. People have actually said” Nothing is so horrible that you have to take your life.” Oh, really? Try living my life for a year, I’m pretty sure you’d feel otherwise. In other words, don’t judge what you don’t understand. It is okay to admit you don’t understand the various forms of depression and other forms of mental illness, but it’s not acceptable in 2016 to be ignorant about it.

I’m one of the “privileged few” who inherited it on both sides of my family. My paternal Grandmother suffered from her early teens until the day she died. The things she was put through during her life in terms of “treatment” were truly horrible, and I am not a candidate for certain treatment methods because of that. No doctor would allow me to go through what she did, despite the advancements that have been made I am considered too high a risk factor, and here’s a fact; I wouldn’t sign myself up for it either.

Approximately ten years ago, I was diagnosed with “treatment resistant depression”. It means that while I suffer abysmal highs and lows, my brain chemistry does NOT respond to medication. I’ve tried everything and all they’ve done is make me really sick. Therapy works, if the therapist isn’t a piece of shit, but with Fibromyalgia, there are times I cannot drag myself in on a weekly basis in order to “go deep”. I walk into therapy in a relatively good mood, positive about what may be accomplished by going, and I walk out feeling like the biggest piece of shit on the planet, so it’s important to find someone who knows when and when not to push your last nerve. I’m not shy, I have a voice and I know how to use it. Since moving, I have noticed that I have become ten times more internalized than ever before and not only is that completely unhealthy, it gives you some insight into my environment and how I don’t feel comfortable discussing important things because I don’t feel understood, cared about, loved, and the list goes on. It hurts so deeply to type that, that the tears are pouring down my face. I’m hurting so much and certain things were said to me today that can never be taken back. I can never un-hear them.

Unfortunately, I haven’t been to therapy in three and a half years and after putting myself back on medication last month, it made me too sick to function. If you’re able to take medication, wake up each morning, and go to a normal 9-5 kind of job, well, G-d Bless you. I cannot. I knew very young that I’d never have a “normal job”. Not because it is beneath me, it’s not, but because I don’t play well with others. There is not a single thing about me that says “team player”. I am glad I knew that about myself at such a young age because it propelled me in the right directions as a creative spirit. I’ve never NOT worked (I’ve been working since I was 12, no joke.) and not created something out of nothing, but for months now I have felt sick, weak, dejected, and the absolute opposite of who I truly am. There is nothing keeping me here. Nearly every day is the same; completely monotonous.

My creativity ebbs and flows. It always has. I do nothing on command. I’ve always liked that about myself, but it can be tricky when you are involved with creative projects that need 100% of your commitment, or they’ll fail. But how does one stay “on” when they’re predominantly “off”?

Today I reached my boiling point in reaching out to people I felt I could trust for help. Five times today I got off the phone in hysterical tears because in the grand scheme of life, people don’t care about my struggles or my pain, but they do care about being selfish, hostile, cruel, and hurtful. The final call which I did not want to make was the last straw.

Some things are out of my control, just as they are for many of us, but I’d like to think that if someone called me crying, truly upset by something happening to them, I would do whatever was within my power to help, even if I’d helped them 100 times before, I don’t keep score. In fact, I HAVE done that (helped others) and I will never stop being the person that I am because to not be me is to be lesser, and I refuse to let experiences like this alter the person I am. I refuse to change to suit other people because then they win.

My mother raised me to be a strong, independent woman, but she also told me that sometimes we all need help and not to be afraid to ask for it. However, I was terrified to ask for the help I needed and my fears were warranted because in asking for help, I got hurt. I am sure the other person does not see it as I do. Of course, I didn’t threaten or insult them.

Here’s something important I think some people need to understand: It takes great courage to ask for help. Especially for someone like me because I have a lot of pride, but definitely feel that I have fallen from Grace. 😦 When a person asks for help, and they’re upset and you know things have been bloody awful for them, don’t make it worse with cruel, hateful words. Discuss things with them at a later time, in private, when each of you is calm, and assure them that you do indeed love and care about them. It’s okay to have boundaries and to place limits on things, absolutely, but it’s not okay to be hurtful or say things in anger that cannot be retrieved.

For now, I have no idea what tomorrow brings, but I’m hoping it doesn’t involve me “going dark”. I’m writing this in tears, because the pain is just too much to bear. I am also weighing my options quite heavily because I am too sick to deal with such harsh negativity being directed at me in such an ugly manner.

We all have physical and emotional triggers in life, whether we’re aware of them or not. Certain words and tones will turn me from a caring, kind, loving, helpful person with a genuine heart into someone incredibly inclined to poison your dinner.

Choose your words wisely. Do not make assumptions. Don’t insult loved ones, for they can be gone in the blink of an eye. And absolutely do NOT trigger someone when you KNOW their history. Some people really should know better, but they don’t. Maybe anger is a better place to reside for some? I’ve been there and it’s unhealthy.

Tonight, I am going to try to accept the fact that no one else is like me and the other people cannot be what I need them to be, because it’s simply not in their genetic makeup. My brother recently paid me the finest compliment by saying that no one could spend five minutes with me, or speak to me for five minutes, and not come away realizing how incredibly genuine and unique I am. I damn near cried, because it’s truly the NICEST thing he’s probably ever said to me, and it was such an incredibly astute observation. It almost makes up for the crappy things he’s said to me in the past when he was angry (at himself) and frustrated (with his own bullshit) and took it out on me simply because I am the closest person to him.

I learned a valuable lesson today. I learned that no matter what people say, their actions and words don’t always mesh, and I am wary of people like that. Life isn’t perfect for anyone. Life isn’t always fair, either, but I refuse to kick someone while they’re already bleeding on the ground.

To the people who kicked me today when I was desperately upset by a situation completely out of my control, please don’t ever think I won’t remember the attack. To the few that reached out later on to raise me back up off the ground, I won’t soon forget that either.

Wishing you all a far better day/week/remainder of the month than I just had.