reformedstrippersanon

Dilema

2011-06-13T12:38:00.003-05:00

My lovely dear internets, I am FREAKING THE FUCK OUT.

Ok. Let me see if I can calm myself down here. This morning I woke up and found my mom had made a FB page, and since I gave her my real email address, she found me on there. I have NO actual blood family on my FB page. I have friends, my "family by choice", and random people I play silly FB games with.

I also have no one under the age of 18. Because I link to this blog. Because I talk about boobs, masturbation, being INSANE with panic disorder, being obsessed with weird things, and I feel comfortable to say anything because I know my DAD isn't going to read my update, Wow so glad I got myself off today, and have his head POP.

My privacy settings are pretty strict, but then I realized that my blog was listed, so now I have no idea if my parents are reading this. If they are, they should stop. I talk about porn, sex, being insane,girls, boys, boobs, and more being insane. It is really NOT intended for parental consumption.

BUT. My HUGE freak the fuck out is because she has my x from when I was 18, boys bio dad, piece of shit who I hate more then anyone in this world, in her friends list. I deleted my myspace and changed my phone number and MOVED, to get away from those people. So clearly I cant friend her or BAM, they are all over the place. And WHY does she have them friended? WHY???????

My head is freaking the fuck out. I mean she is entitled to add anyone she wants, but I'm so not going down that road. Do I have to delete this blog ALL over again? Back up two years of writing like I did before and find a new (HORRORS) blog name?

No. I refuse. But now I think I am having a panic attack, because my body just got hot and my head just went WHOOSH. UH MY GADDD.

Whores I grew up with

2011-05-18T11:24:00.003-05:00

When I was a little girl I had few options in music. My mother loved country music and had dozens of records like Kenny Rodgers, Crystal Gayle, John Denver and Dolly Parton. To hear anything else I would have to sneak my Big Bird radio into bed with me and listen to music very quietly while hiding under my covers.

She also had a great love, and probably still does, for Burt Reynolds. We had ALL the movies she could get on Beta Max. Like Cannon Ball Run, Stroker Ace ( sounds like a porn) and of course, Smokey and the Bandit. But there was one more lurking in that collection of tapes, the one I always wanted to watch because there was DANCING and SINGING combined. Because a girl can only watch Grease so many times. Or so I have been told.

But that little gem of a film was The Best Little Whorehouse In Texas. Oh yes. I mean we also had 9 to 5, but that didn't feature what I thought at the time were beautiful women in fancy clothes dancing and singing up and down staircases and HAPPY, oh they were SO SO happy. Maybe the happiest whores ever in history. And since I really had NO clue about sex ( really I was totally naive for quite some time) I watched them sing and dance the cowboys into their bedrooms and danced around the living room singing along with them.

Now the other night I was flipping channels and what do I see on the country music channel, but those same dancing and happy whores and the same dancing cowboys, who I now notice are in pink shirts, satin pants, and doing splits and pirouettes and I think to myself, now those don't really LOOK like a bunch of cowboys that would be running off to go have sex with FEMALE whores. Nope, not at all.

And then the big scene opens and I see Dolly come down and start to sing, and her band of perky, happy to bang a bunch of farmers, hookers and I think, HOLY SHIT.

People, when your like 8 years old and you think someone is attractive and well dressed, come back and check again when your in your 30s ( or 29) and get a reality round house kick to the face. Because that is exactly what I got. Chuck Norris style, round house kick, right to the FACE.

And it makes me wonder about the people who were my age THEN that saw this movie and thought WONDERFUL! Brilliant! Amazing choreography and fashion!!! You know, people like my mother, who also thought, oh there is no harm in letting her watch this film. And then allowed a very impressionable me to dance and sing with these happy, horribly dressed, hookers.
And so, my dear internets, I share with you this nostalgic piece of film making. If it inspires you to dance, please do so, if it inspires your fashion choices, GET HELP.

DANCE!

The life and times of my kids, circa 2008

2011-05-12T14:39:00.000-05:00

September 12, 2008

ALL HAIL!

Current mood:amused
The Lord Sir Stephen, Leader of the greatly feared Dog Army.

Last night Sir Stephen aquired the new leg armor he had sent his squire to make for him and he set out to make sure it was battle ready as any Fearless Leader would do.

He strapped on the new armor pieces, donned his chain mail shirt, leather breast place, gauntlets, his fine new leather sword belt, and full plate helmet. Then in case he might encounter any wandering dragons he placed his two handed sword in his new belt and headed out to patrol his Kingdom and stop by the house of his best squire.

On his walk he did not encounter any dragons, but he did come across two young maidens in a chariot of some sort that first passed him but then backed up and stopped and inquired if they could take photos with him. Lord Stephen, who is always gracious, complied and they went on their way, merrily.

He also came across some poor slave man sent to place unwated items at the curb, no doubt sent by his wench to do this duty. In his undergarments this poor man stood and was struck dumb by the shining armor and apperance of our Great Lord Stephen. Mercifily Lord Stephen was kind enough to saulte this poor man and wish him good evening, but so in awe was he that no words were able to pass his lips and he just stood there in his undergarments with a rolled tobacco leaf lit hanging off one of his lips.

Finally our Lord reached the desitnation of his best squire, Alex, who was greatly surprised when he came to his door to see the Lord there, in all his splendor and he invited him into his sitting room.

Then squire Alex with a raised voice queried,"Mom, did you hire a stripper??" And when his mother entered the room, our Lord did begin to dance merrily and remove one of his bracers in jest.

Oh that whacky Lord Stephen, how fortunte we are he protects us all.

September 17, 2008

I am NOT your extracurricular bitch!

Current mood:amused
My youngest son Derek is the head of his schools writing club, this is an after school activity that he has been doing since he was a freshman. He is quite good at it, but it means that there are days during the week he can't take the bus and I have to go pick him up at the school. Well this year they have started a late bus, which he could take to get home, but he does not like this late bus, because he is a picky shit. So I still go to get him, and sometimes this interferes with Steve and what he might be wanting me to take him to go do. And this has prompted Steve to change Dereks nickname from "Arrogantly Thin" to "Extracurricular Bitch".

Personally I like it. Lately my saying has been, What kind of Fuckery IS this?? ( I switched from Oh yeah Im gonna get my fuck on! Much love to NPH in Harold and Kumar). I noticed that if you combine the two, What kind of Fuckery IS this? I am NOT your extracurricular bitch! They go pretty damn well together, its sweet. So internet.

What kind of Fuckery IS this? I am NOT your extracurricular bitch!

And its going to stay that way. I am either your full time bitch with no fuckery or none at all.

December 12, 2008

TOTAL ANARCHY!!!!!

Every morning I get up and take my boys to school, much like I used to do when they were little. Since the move I haven't switched addresses yet because Steve graduates in less then a month. During the Christmas break i'm going to start getting things together to make the change for Derek, but I didn't want them bouncing Steve around when he is almost finished, plus his dad lives in the district and if I needed to I would just send him to live there, he is 18 after all.

When they were little I would wait for the bus with them, or walk them to school and pick them up, as we only had one car at the time and their dad took it to work with him during the day, then he would come home, give me a kiss and I would leave to go to work all night. We did this for YEARS. So when the boys got old enough, and I moved out of their dads place and we could see the junior high from our drive way I was HAPPY to stop getting up at 7 am and standing around while they ate and made sure they brushed their teeth. It was usually a mumbled goodbye smooch, or me at the bottom of the stairs going COME ON, and they would run past me with a peck on the cheek and out the door. In senior high it has been even easier as the bus picked them up right from our driveway.

Not anymore. So every morning I am up early, standing around watching them brush their teeth like I did when they were 5 and taking them to school.

Each day we pass this little boy, I would guess that he is in 1st grade, who is just a few blocks down from us while he waits for his school bus. When we first moved in this fall he always had a parent with him, mom and dad took turns it seemed, hanging out with him until the bus came. Well now that it is cold no one is waiting there with him anymore. I mentioned to the boys how wrong that seems to me, when its sunny out sure we will make sure no one takes you, but now that its 9 outside, well buddy, your on your own.....

So each morning we look for him, and I have to say he is progressively getting braver with no parents watching him. A few days ago he was tossing snow, the other morning he had a stick and was fighting a tree to the death, and today, well today he was on the WRONG side of the street from where his bus comes.

As we came to the corner and Steve saw this he pointed and almost yelling in my ear said "LOOK AT HIM!! HE HAS RESORTED TO TOTAL ANARCHY!!!!!! "

He strongly feels that by tomorrow when we pass by, the little boy will be, as Steve put it "Poppin caps at cars".

At which point I turned to the boys and said "See? All those years of having to give me goodbye hugs in front of your friends wasn't so bad now, was it?"

It LOOKED like they both shuddered, but I am sure they were just reliving the happy memories of mom hugs in front of the school. Positive.

December 18, 2008

It will be the worst storm IN TWENTY YEARS!!!

Read that title out loud, but when you do remember that you have to say it like a little old man, maybe from a Scooby Doo cartoon and when you start it, you have to just be speaking but BY THE END, YOUR YELLING IT IN YOUR CREEPY OLD MAN VOICE! TWENTY YEARS!!!!!

Then you too can sound just like Derek, who is all of 17 years, on the way to school this morning.

Then I dropped him off, he shook his cane and me and walked uphill both ways to get into the school, barefoot,and he didn't complain, because that is the way things were back then, and he liked it, and he never complained. Kids these days, they just don't get it.

He forgot his corncob pipe in the van.

Remember where you were Jess

2011-05-12T14:35:00.000-05:00

July 15, 2008

Raging in my head only comes at night

Current mood:aroused
I dream that I pick up the phone and it's his voice and so much anger fills me I wake with a hot rush.

I float in my sleep and dance with vampires who kiss me until the bleeding stops.

My hair matted around me like a dead girl in the water, but my eyes are still moving and watching and waiting for it to come, but I dont know what it is. Eveything has to be still, never move.

My house is a tall tower, that only witches enter and I live at the top and look down on all the little ants and then jump from the window and fly away on the breeze and it swirls around my body and I feel totally free and alive and wicked deep inside and its the warmest happy ever. I feel his arms around me and he whispers evil into my ear and I laugh and we go into the night together and the moon kisses my skin the way he kisses my lips and his jacket is wrapped around me like a cocoon. Pale and cold but he warms me so when he says my name and looks into my eyes. I have never wanted a man so much, even if he is dead. I call him William and he bites my mouth and I melt away into petals.

July 28, 2008

Screams

Current mood:distressed
Screaming in my sleep again, signs of things bubbling in my brain I need to set free. Static in my thoughts, distractions and unrest. Soon I will have to face it, speak it, let it go or it will eat me up like a venom filled candy.

August 19, 2008

Roo

Current mood:sad
Roo passed away today. My big beautiful boy was 19, which means he was about 100 cats years old. I love him, always. For the last 13 years, since I found him in my trash can, he was my rock. No matter how sad or sick I was he was there for me to snuggle and bite my eyebrows while I was sleeping.

He used to hide himself in the boys stuffed animal pile when they were little so that once they were tucked in he could come out and dance on them and nibble them to pet him. So many times I was called in because Roo was nibbling little kids to get them to wake up and love on him.

Today is a very hard day for us all and Roo will always be part of our family in our hearts.

September 3, 2008

Jumping

Current mood:busy
from place to place in my head. So much to do, so much getting done. Sending love hundreds of miles to my Tricky Fancy TrickTickler while she goes though some hard times. You know you can do it, and so do I. And give that Spawn kisses from me, I don't care how many cooties he has.

Filling out job applications, can't wait to work. Looking at apartments, can't wait to move. Bouncing out of my skin to be someplace else then the place I am in. Offically lowering my meds and switching things up. Now all food smells like, well... lets just say I'm not hungry.

Dreaming good things for a change, maybe having something to work towards has changed my patterns for awhile (cross fingers) and my brain loves me a little more then it used to.

If things keep moving forward, I might have to stop calling myself depressed.

Moving Old Posts From Myspace

2011-05-11T10:35:00.002-05:00

For about two years I posted on Myspace, I am deleting it now and moving old blogs I want to save here. So they will be popping up now an again, so I can remember what I was going through in 2008-2009. Sometimes I will post several in one chunk. Here we go kids!

July 7, 2008

It's been a bad day, and I feel accordingly. Don't mind me if I use up a little quiet time. That's what happens before the storm

July 7, 2008

Current mood:cynical
Do you know that when you slit your wrists and get taken to the hospital in an ambulance you didnt want, with police officers you dont like and dont want touching you, they put you in a very very cold room and leave you alone for 5 hours and then a crisis worker comes in and tells you, " Why are you crying so much, your such a pretty girl and now your face is all red from you rubbing it, there is no reason for you to do this."

Omg, she is RIGHT. Why would a pretty girl want to kill herself. I should of thought of that when I was sitting on the bathroom floor and the words, no one misses you when your gone, leave me alone, were ringing through my ears during my panic attack.

I should of stopped then, snapped out of my panic attack, my depression and the betrayl of a person who the night before told me how much they love me only to tell me how much they hate me the next morning and gone, WAIT, I'm PRETTY.

Pretty solves everything. Im so lucky. I mean if I had been ugly, they would of actually had to HELP me, but since I am pretty, they just gave me half a xanax, kept me in the cold for 5 hours and sent me home to go see my doctor.

Thank god for the Crisis workers in the ER here, or else I might not have a good reason to wake up today.

Oh and when you sign out, the nurse tells you, Have a nice day!!!!

July 9, 2008

You don’t get

Current mood:calm
You don't get to touch me anymore
Not in my heart, or my head, not my body.

You don't get to smell my hair, kiss my smile or lay your hand on the curve of my waist while I sleep.

You don't get to tell me what to do, who I can talk to, when I can go out, or what friends I get to have.

You don't get to care, you lost that option.

You don't get to lie to me, you don't get to hurt me and make me feel like less then a person, you can't shame me for who I am ever again.

I am free.

Are you?

Long pause

2011-05-10T15:19:00.002-05:00

I've been dancing with the devil again.

Changing my meds, withdrawl,new side effects, the drop that happens during the time that the old meds are out but the new ones aren't working yet.

My last grandparent passed away and I am totally ambivalent about it. My brother and I were always treated differently by her because of a long standing family feud, and she was a serious alcoholic so I had long ago made the choice to not be around her. I felt bad seeing other people so sad about her passing, but I felt completely removed from the situation. I was watching other people grieve, not sharing in it. It reminded me too much of my breakdown when I felt so out of body, and I have waited for grief to hit me, thinking maybe I was just numb. However I have come to accept the fact that I really don't have any opinion on it. She was old, sick, and drunk. Her death was an inevitable part of life and so, it is neither sad nor happy. I don't feel relief she is "at peace" nor any loss.

This gave me pause. There have been other points in my life where I guess I should of been more emotional about something, people seemed to expect sadness or anger or joy from me and what they received was a blank face and some blinking. Add the mini edge of the lip smile, like yes, I understand what you want from me, but its not going to happen.

And other times something small can happen and ALL of those emotions pour out of me at one time, really its like emotional exorcist vomit. Seriously it is the pea soup of sad, happy, angry, excited and raging in one violent explosion. People can get hurt. Or just shocked into a frozen 'deer in headlights' position.

So what is wrong with me that I can get more emotional for a happy puppy video online then someone dying or my marriage ending? I am fairly certain a therapist would say, Well you have shut yourself off to serious emotion for self preservation, or some other therapy sounding thing.

I don't think that's true. I think that I can see things coming from a long way, and I can sort of hit the pause button, watch it come in slow motion and go through all the emotions when I feel like it, so by the time I push play again, I've already dealt with it. Clearly not with everything. Some things just hit me like a 2 by 4 to the back of the head. But long term things, like my distance from a family member who never took care of themselves and their death from it was expected, handled. Leaving my husband after two years of thinking it over, done. Over it. So when everyone around me is looking and waiting for the tears or smiles, I already had them. A year ago, in a dark room, alone.

But if that is true, then how do I explain the emotional vomit, there is NO pause button on that. I think those are the moments where I didn't see something coming, had no chance to pre-process. So what does any of this mean?

I hate pea soup.

The only way out is through

2011-04-11T16:29:00.003-05:00

I used to be a prolific blogger. No.. scratch that, I was a full out addicted blogger. Some days I would post two or three times, just little snippets of something amusing that happened, or a quick photo or two and now, clearly as you can see by my measly few posts I have drifted so far in the other direction you can see almost no resemblance to the person I am talking about.

I need to get it out,so I can go through and pop back into me.

I removed my 2+years of blogging when I had a really bad time in my life. I hurt many people, there was just nothing fun to write about, and I was losing my mind. I became this sort of separated entity where I would do things and watch from outside my head and go, Damn! did YOU just do that? And yes, yes I did. And these things, they were really awful. Truly shameful. Hurtful. The only real regrets I have in my life. I have tried to make apologies. The kind of apologies where if I could crawl on glass, sprinkled over hot coals, while ducking under razor wire to prove my deep shame and regret for the hurt I caused I would do so in an instant.

I loved someone, but I didn't love her as much as she deserved, and by wanting to make her life happier in the end the fact that I didn't have enough love to deal with the situation.. well I did very wrong by her. There isn't a way to make it up. It is just a fact. I went into things with best intentions and believing that I was going to help her to be happier and that the trepidations I felt about it would all be OK. I loved her enough to want her life to be better, I was arrogant and foolish enough to think that bringing her into MY life would make that happen. I regret this deeply. And the shame of the hurt I caused her made me pull back from blogging and exposing myself and her as well, since we both had blogs read by many of the same people and I just didn't know what to do, so I crawled under a rock.

Then I came back out of that rock, planning to marry a man I loved very much... but things were not going well in the relationship. His work, and anger. My lack of work and panic, and insecurity. I became terrified that I was going to marry someone whom I deeply loved only to watch yet another marriage fall apart and fail again and that is when I really broke.

I stepped outside myself and into a full blown mania. I had a flagrant, blatant affair hoping he would notice, stop me, do something to show me how much he was in love with me. I kept taking further steps into this insanity and I would move out, move back in, move out, in, out, in... sometimes 3 or 4 times THE SAME DAY. I needed professional help, desperately. I tried to kill myself. None of it seemed real at all. I felt like I was in a dream state, and watching all this happen from a distance, so removed that part of me felt nothing, while the other part of me crumbled and became just this frantic, constantly moving creature, who did nothing but cause more damage to her life every day. But it was ok because it wasn't ME, I was just watching it happen to that poor girl, and wow, wasn't someone going to stop her soon? PLEASE WASN'T SOMEONE GOING TO STOP HER SOON!? Because frankly, it was getting way to hard for me to watch from way up here.

No one stopped her. Finally somehow she stopped herself. I made one step too far, and suddenly there was blood on ME and it was MINE and I had done it. But how many other peoples blood was mixed in with my own? My childrens? My x fiance? My x girlfriend? My friends and family?

I moved out, for real. Into an apartment with my kids. I went into the hospital. I have tried to make amends. I went back to the hospital. I tried to make more amends. I can't forgive myself for the hurt I caused. And I can't blog for the shame. But now its time to let go of that shame and try to forgive myself. My panic disorder isn't going to ever get better if I don't take this way out and through.

I need this blog. I need this space. And if the people I hurt still read this... I really am sorry. Deep to the core in a way words or blood can never express, but I am going to let go of it now. I will always hope for forgiveness, but I am no longer going to strive for it because I can't make it happen. I am going to strive to be the kind of person who would never hurt anyone in that way again, and using all my will and hope and love try to make it so, and forgive myself when I do someday hurt someone else. I have to accept that cruelty doesn't really live in me, mistakes do.

And to live a life with no mistakes, means to live a life with no learning. I want to lean, just not at the expense of others.

This is my blog of freedom, I am giving myself permission and accepting it as the gift it is, I will wrap it in a bow, tuck it under my pillow and open it with surprise tonight as I go to bed and think, wow. How did she know exactly what I needed?

Back to Basics

2011-01-23T21:43:00.003-06:00

There was a time when I used to blog for fun, to capture moments of my life, stories, little adventures or things that were flat out just too hysterical to let slip into oblivion.

I stopped doing that a long time ago, for reasons I don't want to go into right now but you know something? It's TIME. I remember when my blog was something you snuck peeks at if you were working because there might be naked people randomly popping up when you least expect it, or WAY too many curse words. I remember when I was proudly branded Too Dirty For Google Ads because of the Anonymous Naked Project, and I was all HA HA TAKE THAT INTERNET AS A WHOLE! Then I might of gone all wild and crazy and said I was Kevin Bacon and Google was John Lithgow and how it was NOT going to stop me from dancing... I might have to find that old post...

BUT I DIGRESS!

This is a post about PORN! Yes oh yes, as I rub my hands together in diabolical glee, I am going back to my roots, I'M BRINGING IT BACK! This is gonna be SO WIZARD!(If you don't get that, you need to watch more Robot Chicken)

I got an email the other day asking me about the weirdest porn ever, because she just knew I would know and OH DO I KNOW! I did a post about this porn way back in the day when this blog used to be a whole lot more fun and I decided then and there that there was no better way to bring porn back to this blog, then to post about this one again. It is just THAT epic.

Once when I was a sweet young thing of maybe 22 I had a good friend and we would take turns trying to rent the weirdest porn we could find and one up each other. He was good, but I had a secret weapon. The video store happened to be close to my work, and they also happened to sell dancers costumes and often after work groups of us girls would go in there and goof off, so I had the inside scoop on the best most awful of all porno to be had in the WORLD! (Or Southern Wisconsin Region)

Still even with that, I never could of expected the crazy porno bounty that was to fall into my lap. It started like most of the bad porns do, it was made in the 1980s. Lets all just face the facts here people, not a lot of good things came out of the '80s. We had some one hit wonders, a few classic movies, that ONE dance move, and a lot of memories clouded by huge brain cell smothering clouds of Aqua Net. Oh but this, just this one movie, made the entire decade worth it.

Picture this, if you will. A young lady is innocently mixing a healthy breakfast cereal on the stove top. She is clearly looking for a good start to her morning, the all American way. How can this go wrong? I will tell you how. Because suddenly the innocent breakfast cereal COMES TO LIFE! Oh yes, the little box of Cream of Wheat is suddenly a full grown black man, in a box! Luckily for the sake of the movie, his face and his package are cut out for us to see and suddenly its not cereal she wants to eat any longer! Next thing you know, Mr. Wheat is on his back, in the box and getting the best morning BJ of HIS LIFE, you can tell its the best because he is snapping along to the music playing, keeping time. What music might this be? Well it just might be TOAST! OH SNAP, NOT "THE TOAST"???!! YES!! THAT ONE! He is rocking out, he is dancing, I believe at one point he is overcome and even joins in on the saxophone. This is a BJ having, finger snapping, toast dancing wet dream come true!

I can hear you all raising your eyebrows. This can't possibly be. There is NO WAY this movie was ever made, I must be raging on drugs, and I never saw this and then called ALL the people I had ever met in my entire life and made them watch it. But it is all true. I called them. We watched. We laughed until we cried. We shrieked in horror and then elation. We danced with the toast. THE TOAST. It was a glorious find and one my friend was NEVER able to top. Because that wasn't the only scene in the movie, oh no, there was SO much more. But for me, no matter what else they threw at me, clowns, mimes, Satan, it all came back to breakfast, the toast dancing in what can only be described as having "thrown all his inhibitions to the wind"...

And here for you all, proof. Please meet Mister Cream of Wheat and his friend, Toast. See him dance. (Link mostly safe for work sorry folks Youtube just isn't that dirty) And the name of this Epic Classic? Night Dreams. Here on IMDB for you all.

Now don't ever say that I didn't give you anything good.

Facing up to my lies

2010-12-15T12:18:00.004-06:00

It's time. It's past time. I've run from my blog again, and we all know that means something not good. I don't hide from myself that way unless things are not going well. And oh my darlings, have I been hiding from myself.

I re-read this blog right before I started to type this post and what a LIAR I am. It's sick how many lies I have told. Did I start listening to more music? Yes I did, I'm playing Florence and the Machine right now. I put in my Ipod shuffle to sleep, or put a cd on repeat all night and you know what? Still no sleep. I hardly sleep in my own bed anymore, the anxiety is too high. I am on the couch most of the time, usually with Buffy or some stupid movie playing to try to put me to rest, in the silence its just me and my brain and then my heart is there, pounding in my ears, and the heat is prickling my body and my breath is going out of me and then I am alone in the dark trying to fight off a panic attack. The attacks I said I wasn't going to fight, the attacks I said I would accept and become the master of... lies.

I fight them so hard. And it does no good. Its been weeks since I have left my house, and I still blow off my friends. I talk to people online, or sometimes the phone, but many times I just let it ring and never answer.

We had a couple of weeks with no net and no phone due to finances, and I felt like I was losing my mind having no contact with the outside world, and then I started to accept it, and let go of the world. That scared me even more then the idea of having multiple panic attacks each day. And oh yes, its gone there again. Hours long, I think its over, and then no, a new one springs up fresh and I spend 3 more hours in pain and fear and misery.

I lie to myself every day. I say, This Too Shall Pass. They WILL find a way to fix this mental disease that flays my mind and soul for its own amusement. My life IS NOT going to be lived this way.

But then I wake up in the middle of the night with my brain itching, a million thoughts flipping through like the worlds fastest and least coherent slide show, and my heart feeling like my skin wont be enough to keep it in my chest, and I know deep down that while I am fumbling around to swallow that pill, race to the bathroom, curl up into a ball and shake, believe that I will not swallow my tongue, and start the chanting in my head of I will be ok, that I lie.

I look at myself in the mirror and I see the lies, they sit there heavy on my face, shadows in my eyes that look like fear, and I push them back, put on some blush, and go back to my safe spot on the couch that doesn't judge me for all the lies I am going to tell myself today.

Bittersweet Emotion

2010-06-22T20:29:00.005-05:00

Why does self reflection have to be so painful? The ultimate goal as a human, as far as I can figure, is to grow and change and evolve into something better, someone better and yet in order to do this, as a species and as individuals we must suffer.

These last few weeks I have been suffering.

Now I know, I REALLY know, there are people in this world who live in terrible, torture like suffering every day and my personal experience with the word suffering doesn't compare in any way and for that I am a big whiner. I know it. My suffering is not the stuff of legends, it won't be written about in a history book, and not many people really care one way or the other about the personal things I am feeling, or my growing pains to become a better person in this world.

Yet still, for me, it is very real and something I am dealing with at this point in my life. This very strange, completely foreign, and painful time in my life.

Its been almost a month now that I have been sick, with some nasty lung infection stuff and I feel like I am choking or being suffocated nearly all time because when you combine that with asthma and humid weather, well its misery. Add a power outage to that, for 3 days, and air you could slice like cake and you have one struggling for air, very unhappy girl. My ribs, neck and back are all bruised from the coughing and struggle for air. Yes I am on antibiotics, almost done with them, did steroid treatment, double up on the asthma meds, plus using the emergency inhaler daily, many times, and still no air.

Now, mix that in with my panic disorder. Oh yeah. It really has been a joy. During the blackout I was having serious issues. No phone or lights or fans or a/c or cold drinks, no food at all actually since everything went rotten, and it gave me a lot of time to sit alone in the dark and think about just how much I rely on power and technology to help me manage this disorder.

It also gave me days of empty time to think about what my life has become, who I have become, and who I want to become. Yes I realize this has been the major theme of my return to blogging but this is the thing, its what is happening with me, and to me and around me NOW. Its all thats happening. My children are getting ready to leave home, I am not in a relationship (which is something I have almost always been in) I dont have a job (something else I always had) and now I feel like I dont have a purpose more then ever.

When I was out getting some things for the house during the big black out, Sweet Emotion came on the radio. Normally whenever Aerosmith comes on I change it because that was Tea's favorite band in the whole world, and I watched her dance to their music so many times I cant stop the flood of images of her from filling up my head and its just painful. Yes, creeping up on nearly a decade since she has passed on, and those memories still hurt. I still dream of her, of saving her from herself, or just spending time together at her house, but watching her dancing in my mind really hurts the most because it was when she was most free.

She died before she reached my age. I have let sickness nearly kill me. She would be so dissapointed in me. I am so dissapointed in me.

I thought about it a lot. I listened to that song play, and I watched her dance in my head and I came home and just thought. Things can still lay me so low, these attacks that run over me and take over my head and pull me into horrible dark places still have such power over me when I dont want them to, I fight them, I tell my brain NO NO NO so loud, its like it sneaks in and rapes my thoughts and my body. It does things to me that I dont want to happen, that I physically struggle against and yet, they come.

My whole life I have had fears of rejection, but when I was young I ignored them and just did anything I felt I needed to do for my life and stomped on everything or anyone that stood in the way of my goals. Since becoming sick, I started listening to those fears. People wont want me, im not good enough, im not smart enough, pretty enough, skinny enough, just enough of anything. I am lacking. Even re-reading that makes me sick. Makes me want to slap myself. When I was 20 I would of said, fuck that. You can do anything, just show em. SHOW THEM.

So I am sick, I cant take full breaths, I still dont have this fucking disease in my brain under control, and I am not 20. But I am also not dead. People I loved are missing from my life now, and yet they have moved on and evolved more then I have in some ways.

I need to show them. I need to just fuck the fear, face the fear, suck the fear in, and turn it out on its ass and show it. I need to embrace this changing in my life, my head, and let it come over me. Im not going to fight the attacks anymore, Im going to let them take me and ride them out and live anyway. Im not going to fear rejection I am going to say, fuck you if you dont like me, fuck you if you dont want me because I am fucking good enough. At times I am fucking awesome. And Im not dead.

Im here to show the world Im alive, Im evolving, and im done suffering. Fuck you universe, you arent the boss of me.

Filling up my soul when it's running on E

2010-06-12T21:11:00.003-05:00

This will come as no shock to anyone that has spent any amount of time with me over the past few years when I say that I have been empty. Running pretty damn near close to it at least, sputtering along on fumes and missing huge parts of myself. I know old friends can see it when I show up on their doorstep, if I show up, because everyone is always asking me if I am ok. And the thing is, No. No I haven't been ok.

Searching for the root of this whole "not ok vibe" has been a long running chore at this point, I feel like a kid playing a video game, pumping in quarter after quarter but never able to reach that end level because some motherfucker ganked the game up so you can't ever get to the final end battle. Bastard. I will say that again, Bastards.

So I have really been doing this soul searching, self exploration, learning and listening, chose your own ending, adventure story ever since I got out of the hospital. Those 6 days ticked by so slowly but I think I actually absorbed quite a bit of what I needed to, besides just changing my medications. I dare to say it was actually productive, unlike my previous hospital stay which was just a cluster fuck of bullshit. People, the answer has always been RIGHT HERE, THISCLOSETOMYFACE, from the very start.

Yes I was losing my shit before I quit my job, but only to a certain extent. There was still a lot of my shit right where it was supposed to be, I still had the "Me-ness" that people recognized. But ooooo.. when I left... spiral out. keep going. It was a slow burn out, I lost more and more of me and have continued to do so ever since. So what was it? The clothes? The people? The bossy being in charge? The money? No. No. No. No. Well I do love the clothes, but still No.

The music. PEOPLE! The music went away. Not only did I stop listening to music around the house but I wasnt spending 12 hours a day with it blasting all about me. Even the stuff I hated, the songs I heard so many times I wanted to cry when they came on (Come on ride the train) was gone. And so was my disposable income, or my mental capacity, to go to concerts. I stopped going out to clubs to dance just for the shear joy of dancing, I stopped going to visit my friends at work at other clubs, I just stopped.

This is so obvious. Anyone who has seen me after a live show knows the euphoric state in which I wander for hours, sometimes days after. All of my friends are people who are passionate about music. People who play, record, DJ, dance, or just love it and feel moved by it and need it to get by the same way I do.

And yet my listening dropped. Plummeted.My static brain and the waves of mental breakdown took the place of the notes, the words and the throbbing beat that I need to feel moving through me to live.

Yes, to live. I need music to live. Like Tinkerbell needs you to clap for her, like fish need bicycles, like monkeys need to fling poo at zoo visitors. I need it for my mental health, my physical well being and my HAPPY.

One good live show, say Puscifer in Chicago this past winter with my son, keeps me fed for a few months, but I still need snacks! I need to crank it up on the tv, the computer, the Ipod and not just at the gym. In the car, in the kitchen, in my bedroom there needs to be music.

I have been playing music almost constantly since coming home from the hospital. Its always running in the background somewhere. I have it in my purse where ever I go, in my shiny little pink Ipod that I can pop out at a moments notice and start refueling my brain and body.

And this means that for me to really be me again, to really be healthy and turn my back on all this sickness and the mistakes and the shame that has become my life... I have to go back to work with the music. I need to keep going to the gym until I am in the shape I want to be in and then I need to go back into one of those dark seedy bars and spend hours and hours surrounded by music again.

I need to step back into the shoes of who I was for so long. And use that to become the new me. Propel myself with this reclaiming of the old me, my old job, my old work, and use that to push myself into the new me, the new job and the new work I want to accomplish. I dont want to work in a bar forever, popping beer tops and wiping down tables. Or stretching myself across the cool floor of the stage and spinning around the shiny pole. No. Obviously that is silly, you simply CANT do that forever and to not want more is to not grow into someone new and better.

But right now, I have been so empty, so not me, that it is EXACTLY what I need to become me again and then blossom into a whole new, 2.0 version of me. To get myself back into school, to learn a new line of work and to keep this part of me intact and whole once again.

And when I leave that place again, this time I will be strong. I wont be running from the job, from illness, from myself. I will be walking with great purpose and determination into a new future that I want with all my heart, and my filled up soul.

And the music will never again stop around me. In my home, in my car, in my head, I will keep it going round and round, so the energy that is me never tries to curl up and die again.

There is no other way for me to end this post then with the song that means the most to me, and touches me like no other song in my life has done. This is the song that I feel like captures me, who I am, was, will be forevermore. It lifts me to a point of elation when I hear it and when I was surrounded by it during 2 amazing live shows I felt reborn each time.

Can you have writers block for your second post?

2010-06-07T15:48:00.002-05:00

I have such an abundance of topics and issues and little bits of fluff rolling about in my head that I honestly dont know where to start. And this little cursor blinking at me doesnt seem to be helping.

In October it will be two years that I have been living in this apartment with my children and technically a single girl. I have mixed feelings on this.

I currently dont have a deep, meaningful relationship and can honestly say I do not think there is anyone "in love" with me. Also with the mixed feelings.

Both my kids are now legally adults, however they are still doing dumb ass stuff. That I understand because I am legally an adult and I do a lot of dumb ass stuff. So my love for them has not changed but sometimes my annoyance level is higher because OMFG arent you old enough to NOT DO that dumb ass stuff? Move on to NEW, BIGGER, MORE ALL CAPS REQUIRED DUMB ASS STUFF, like me.

Actually, they have both done some all caps required dumb ass stuff, but I dont feel like getting into that just yet.

I ate a handful of mini marshmallows for breakfast. Is that wrong?

Losing my voice

2010-06-04T14:29:00.000-05:00

Well hello again my old friend. It has been quite some time since I tapped on these keys and watched my words form on this blank screen in front of me. And as usual I have no idea exactly what I intend to say until I see it come out of my finger tips.

I have lost my voice.

I used to have one, loud and strong and like a lions roar. As of late it seems to sound more like one of those cheap tapes you would get as a kid and record things off of the radio or some record and then rewind and record on top of it again, over and over until when you finally press play its so garbled and weak and has so many voices over the top of it that you aren't even sure what you are hearing anymore.

Also I have laryngitis right now so I literally have no voice with which to speak these days.

For some time now I have been pondering the thought, the general notion of coming back to these familiar stomping grounds and letting my voice back out. This place of freedom, of naked blogging, soul baring and brazen and totally unrestrained. The problem is I have felt restrained. In the last few years I have left many things go unsaid and bottled them up and just let things go on the way they seemed to want to go.

Pieces of those feelings are all from different places. Some people that I didn't care to know found my blog, some things I didn't want to talk about. I have done things that I was ashamed of for the first time in my life. Shame is not an emotion I am very comfortable with and it doesn't look good on me. It's almost as bad as putting on a bright yellow dress and running around yelling LOOK AT ME!! And if you know me at all, you know I don't like yellow and it would look horrible on me to boot.

I think its way, WAY past time for me to take that yellow dress off. Its time for me to find my roar. I have always been the one to put someone else in the restraints and its high time I took them off of myself, they are starting to chafe.

Hello me, its me again and I am coming home, we have been lost for far too long, quiet until we heard the pin drop and wrapped up in too many layers. Lets have some fun together and be naked again.

Shut down

2008-07-04T19:31:00.001-05:00

Only dust here folks,nothing to see. I just dont want anyone taking the blog name and posing as me. Freaks.