About me.

OK, saw this on The Klonopin Chronicles, I guess I HAVE to do it now...

1.  Where were you born?  

One of the hospitals in Elgin. Pick one. There was a rash of babies dying in one of them around the same time.

2.  Were you named after someone?    

My middle name came from my paternal great grandmother. My first name is ridiculously common for my generation.

3.  How many children do you have?  

1 furkid, 1 ex bf roommate.

4.  How many pets? 

1 kitteh. I want more. The roommate says no. We shall see...

5.  What's the worst injury you ever sustained?  

I've never broken a bone. That said, I have Fibromyalgia, so I'm pretty much one big injury all the time. As well as having dislocated or sprained most of my joints at one point or another. And having arthritis from a young age.

6.  Do you have any special talents?  

Driving to work and not remembering how I got there because I was too busy thinking the whole time. Pretty much doing that all day, actually. My mind never stops. Scaring people with a single look. I can knit. Still working on coloring inside the lines.

7.  Favorite thing to bake?   

Bacon and cinnamon rolls. Yes, I occasionally bake my bacon, and it's delicious. It's bacon.

8.  Favorite food?  

I'll eat anything if you don't tell me what it is. Except bivalves, crustaceans, brussel sprouts, peas, and asparagus. I can smell that shit a mile away.

9.  Would you bungee jump?  

If I was manic.

10.  What is the first thing you notice about people?  

Shoes. If they are cool or not.

11.  When was the last time you cried? 

Yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that. And so on.

12.  Any current worries? 

What do I NOT worry about? 

13.  Name 3 drinks you drink regularly.

Coffee.

Water.

Rootbeer.

14.  What's your favorite book? 

Watership Down. Always and forever.

15.  Would you like to be a pirate?   

Um, no. Hate large bodies of water, and I like modern bathrooms too much.

16.  Favorite smells?  

In between my cat's shoulder blades, fresh cut hay, Gain, bergamot & sandalwood

17.  Why do you blog?

I need to get some things out. I don't care if anyone reads it. It's all about me.

18.  What song do you want played at your funeral?

This Is For Real  and L.G.F.U.A.D.- Motion City Soundtrack. And Good Fucking Bye - Matt Skiba.

19.  What is your favorite thing about yourself?

My "tenacity" (not supposed to say stubbornness, it had negative connotations.), my vocabulary, my empathy.

20.  Favorite hobby?

Knitting. Coloring. Knitting. Reading. Watching cryptozoology shows.

21.  Name something you've done, you never thought you would do?

Put everything I have into getting better. Get my FOID card and get a gun.

22.  What do you look for in a friend? 

Acceptance and understanding. And a sense of humor as sick and twisted as my own.

23.  Favorite fun things to do?

Camping. Reading. Coloring. Knitting.

24.  Pet peeves? 

People who stomp around like buffaloes. Hyena-cackling laughers. Invading my personal space.

25.  What's the last thing that made you laugh? 

"What's the last thing that *didn't* make me laugh is a fairer question." - TKC Pretty much fits. I laugh more than I cry (see #11), so I guess I'm doing better than I think.

Now you.  If you're a blogger that reads my blog, consider yourself tagged. 

And now we wait. 

Dontcha love it when everything starts falling apart?

Week from hell. Broke it off with the man I love, did something I swore I would never do again, and got treated like I could snap at any minute by coworkers. Oh, and my only living grannie has congestive heart failure. Which I found out in my newsfeed on Faceyspace. 

I'm still talking to JB. But not the same way. Probably pretty stupid, but I struggled with it and struggled with it and struggled with it. To the point that I cut for the first time in... over 20 years. In so much pain, manic, depressed, angry. I couldn't handle it. I feel like an ass for doing it. But once I did it, I felt better. Stupid endorphins.

Started coloring mandalas. Feverishly, obsessively. It's the only time my brain shuts down without medication. 

I think that's one of the harder things to explain to people. A lot of what I go through, I hear a lot of, "oh, everyone gets that sometimes..." Everyone gets up, everyone gets down. Everyone gets stressed. everyone gets overwhelmed. MY BRAIN NEVER STOPS. When I'm working, I'm thinking about 2 or three things completely un-work related. When I'm driving, same thing. I can't stop it. EVER. Depressed, manic, it never stops. Lately, I've also noticed I'm being triggered by things going on around me as well. Noises, people walking by. I get enraged. 

I'm just a fucking mess.

An Open Letter to JB

What the FUCK does "I don't think I can contribute anything constructive." mean, really? "Anything I say is going to piss you off/hurt you"? Well, I'm already pissed, and I've been hurting for a long time.

Talking to you makes me happy. REALLY being able to talk to you, not just a few texts throughout the day. Being with you, being around you makes me even happier. And I'm not talking sex, though that was fan-fucking-tastic. Just being in your presence. When I think of what could be, I see something beautiful. Something lasting. It's not work if you are doing something you love. It wouldn't be effortless, but it wouldn't be work, either. I don't see perfection, I see something amazing and rare. I see something that everyone is striving for and so few reach. I see comfort and safety and love. I see acceptance. I see a lack of judgement. I see purpose and fun. I see love. These are all the things I see in you and with you. I see beauty.

The reality of what actually IS at this point in time is mere glimpses of that. Enough to keep me going, not enough to satisfy. And it's getting worse the longer I keep getting these random glimpses of it. Bits and pieces aren't enough. Telling me you love me isn't enough. Telling me you want to hold me isn't enough. There's no follow through. There's no basis for it in reality for me anymore. "Oh, here's a crumb."

You acted surprised that I was preparing myself to be alone in this. How can I not? I play by your rules. I don't contact you at home. I give you more patience than I thought I was capable of. And I get so little. And when I ask for something, I don't get it. Given how things have gone thus far, how can I not prepare myself for it? I appreciate the gun, but I didn't ask for it. I asked for a letter. I get detailed instructions. Not quite the same as a letter. I ask to know what YOU want. I ask for you to think about what YOU want. No answer. Yeah, that pretty much tells me that I'm not a priority. That as much as you love me, you can't or won't give me what I need. Which in my mind equates to "I'm not worth it." No matter how many times you tell me otherwise. Actions DO speak louder than words, but there is no action when you can never see someone.

I don't know where you are. I don't know what you want, aside from both of us. Well, S has made that an impossibility. I was willing to try. Because in my mind, YOU are worth it. You are a wonderful, amazing, beautiful person. And I love you so much. But I need to take control of SOMETHING, because you won't. I need a break from all of this. I need to step back and take some time and some room to think. I know what I want. I need to figure out how far I'm willing to compromise myself to get it.

I love you. NEVER doubt that. I know you've said I'm stronger and more mature than S, but that doesn't mean I don't need you. That doesn't mean that this doesn't hurt me every fucking day. That I'm always the third choice. I'm not asking to be the first. I'm just asking for more than the hell of limbo that I'm stuck in. I'm asking for hope that someday, this could change. And if you can't give me that, maybe it IS time to let go. I deserve more than an hour or so of your time a few months from now. And you fucking KNOW it. 

"The curse which lies upon marriage is that too often the individuals are joined in their weakness rather than in their strength, each asking from the other instead of finding pleasure in giving. It is even more deceptive to dream of gaining through the child a plenitude, a warmth, a value, which one is unable to create for oneself; the child brings joy only to the woman who is capable of disinterestedly desiring the happiness of another, to one who without being wrapped up in self seeks to transcend her own existence."
--The Second Sex (1949), by Simone de Beauvoir

Sad but true...

I really have no idea what I'm doing here, so bear with me, please. This is just because I can't WRITE anymore. I used to physically write prolifically, and I have the 257 journals to prove it.
So, hi. 38 year old SWF. Well, kinda single. One of the things to get into, probably very quickly. I'd ask for no judgement, but I know I'll get it anyway. Don't judge unless you are in the thick of it. I'll just ignore you, anyway. No kids, never married. I have a cat named Boba. I read everything I can get my hands on, I try to knit things and rarely finish them. I'm in a "relationship" with a married man. I live in a 2 bedroom apartment with my ex. I have been diagnosed with MDD, GAD, Social Anxiety, and most recently Bipolar Disorder NOS. I've been told I'm lazy, I'm too sensitive, that I'm incomplete, that I'm nuts. I've been in and out of therapy for 22 years now. I have days when I'm good, and days when I'm a fucked up mess who can't talk or stop crying. 
So, the cast. 
There is CK the ex. Also my roommate. We dated for 4 years. The last 2 of them, I was miserable every day. But I didn't know why until I realized he's a selfish, self-centered bastard, just like his mom. We still live together because I can't afford to live on my own. And I have too much of a conscience to abandon him. Even if he IS a douche. When you take in a puppy or a kitten, you are stuck with them. Yes, I view him as a kind of annoying pet. 
There is JB the married "boyfriend". Whom I met after the break-up on a dating site. When he was in an open relationship because his wife of 18 years wasn't attracted to him anymore, cheated on him, and basically wanted to fuck other guys. He loves her, he figured out a way to stay with her. Oh, and he's terrified of being alone. This whole thing we have going on was NOT supposed to happen. It was just supposed to be for funsies after 4 years of god-awfully bad sex. Well, THAT didn't work out, either. I met someone who is hilarious, smart, hot, and is capable of almost all of the 21 things Robert Heinlein listed as things every human being should be able to do: "A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly." I say "almost" because there are no starships to conn, and he hasn't died yet. When I was growing up, this quote pretty much defined what I want in a man. I never told anyone that, thinking it was a pipe dream to find someone like that. And through a seemingly random series of events, I found one. 
I say "was" in an open relationship. That ended because of me. Yup, I drive men's wives to beg them to come back. Because I'm THAT awesome. (Sarcastic much? Just a bit.) She saw our emails and IM's and realized she was losing him. He was told if he kept in contact with me, it meant divorce. But SURPRISE! He still talks to me. Crazy ranting emails and all. I love this man, and can't give him up. Yet. He says he loves me. I know it sounds like stupid girl shit, but I believe him. It all sounds like excuses, and maybe they are. That's part of what this is about. 

Recently, a newbie came on the scene. JL. Co-worker, kinda looks like JB. Fucking BRILLIANT, socially inept, possibly completely batshit crazy. Oh, and did I mention hot? I'm a slave to my hormones and an intense fear of abandonment.