Get outta my head!

This is just a little notice to those of you who receive alerts for this journal, that it's no longer private.  So anyone who wants to wander through my thoughts and observations from July of last year until mid-February of this are free to do so. 

Over and out.

whsprdphsh at 10:17:53 PM EDT Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 1 comments: Show Recent | Add your own

To anyone who got an invite:  this is my "old" journal, the one I kept before switching to Saddest Song.  This one was started in July of last year and has most of my story in it.  So if I've ever mentioned a name and you haven't known who it was, you can most likely find them in here.  Some people have actually taken the time to read through all of this, which is the most flattering thing in the world to me, but I do not expect that of all of you. 

I've given you this link so that if I make references back to this journal, you can follow them.  And if you're curious, feel free to peruse my dribblings.  I'm very happy with this journal for several reasons.  First, that I can go to the begining and watch the progression of myself from where I was in July to where I am now.  It's also good to see how I've taken my ideas and crunched them into 2,500 words  (although that's not a problem now that this is beta).  So if you do go back, you can watch me get more used to speaking to an audience of more than my head, see my progression as a writer (if there is one), and get up to date on characters in my drama.  Also, reading through my journal here gives you a much better idea of my "story" than Saddest Song.  SS is more poetic and more verbose than Get outta my head.  There is a big difference between the two.

Feel free to leave comments anywhere in the journal.  I will get an alert whenever one is left, so I will see it.  I appreciate comments.  It gives me insight into events, relationships, my behaviour, my thoughts and my perceptions.  Having mental illness means I'm navigating the world with a broken compass, and I sometimes need the help of others to point me in the right direction.  They may be right, they may be wrong, but I listen to every opinion and it gives me a point of reference from which to reflect and look at things from a different perspective.  AND it's nice to know someone's out there and cares enough to read.

 

Feel free to read this and never return.  That's fine.  But I wanted to atleast give you access should you desire to visit.

whsprdphsh at 4:43:38 PM EST Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 3 comments: Show Recent | Add your own

EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY:

Due to the new beta build for the journals,
I have had to create a new journal to test
the features.

My journal may now be found
at the following address:

http://beta.journals.aol.com/whsprdphsh/SaddestSonghttp://beta.journals.aol.com/whsprdphsh/SaddestSong

If you have any questions you can email me at:

whsprdphsh@aol.com
pulpgirl225@aol.com
whsprdphsh@nme.com
ebeth225@wildmail.com
whsprdphsh@yahoo.com

 

whsprdphsh at 8:55:18 PM EST Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 0 comments: Add your own

Yes, that is a deer.  Yes, this is a real picture.  This is my dad's truck.  A few months back he was on his way home from work and shit happened and bambi jumped onto the road right out infront of him and got bent in half and embedded in his radiator.  No blood.  No scratches.  Nothing.  Just a simple hood ornament. 

I've got a real soft heart for things.  I've hit one thing in my life, a little fuzzy white bunny, and it broke my heart; I cried for hours.  But I can also find humour where humour's due.  Like dissecting frogs in school; I was bothered by the fact that they were bred specifically to die, but my God, the fun things you can make those critters do...like when you poke the little black bumps inside their mouths and it makes their eyes pop out...it's great!  So bambi here (btw, I have more interesting pics than this if anyone's interested.  better, funnier shots) cracked me up to no end.

My parents' evil dog ran away this morning.  I was outside smoking and Lily came outside and Daisy pushed past her and ran onto the porch.  She stood there a second and as soon as I called her name and stood up she took off running.  I chased her over a mile down the road, through yards and a golf course, in my socks and pajamas, and she ends up bolting in the other direction.  So as I start up an asthma attack, I give up and go back home and call my dad, and then get bitched at for losing the dog.  It's not my fault it doesn't like me and it's stupid enough to get itself lost.  So I have the police out looking for it and the garage door open in case she wanders back.  I hope she doesn't, because I know she's the reason for my hives, but of course, I don't want her out there getting hit or killed or hurt or anything like that.  I'm still pissed off that they just went out when I was half-comatose on the couch, sick, and came home with a new member of the family, which I'm expected to take care of all day; without asking my opinion, without consulting me, without even a warning that they were bringing her home. 

Nature vs. Man-who wins?

whsprdphsh at 3:09:30 PM EST Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 1 comments: Show Recent | Add your own

Truthfully, I'm only writing this entry for two reasons. 1) a rebuttal against a number of comments I've received about my last post and 2) I'm just so excited about the new journal beta coming out I could just wet my pants (I mean pee, people.).

Oh, how I do miss those days of raptured emotions, thumping heartbeats and swimming senses.  I would love to throw my loving arms around my enamoured (if I ever get to see him again) and profess my undying...well, whatever it is I have going on (but I'm mighty suspicious that it's a symptom of lonliness)...and throw myself to the fates and see where it leads.  But I can't do that.  And saying why on here would make it WAY too obvious who I am referring to.  But let's just say, there are real and tangible reasons why this is not a good thing and I'm not about to let it happen.  He'll be around, sure.  And if things change and tangible reasons change, then yes, I'll go for it.  But as for now, I'm going to sit around and wonder why this is even being entertained in my mind, if not just to torture myself.

But that's not to say that I'm madly in love with him and will attend to no other.  There's several billion people in this world, and I don't think there's just one out there for me, especially since I know I have a lot to learn, and the easiest way to learn is to learn through other people.  So, as other guys come into my life, I'll date, whatever....just not get engaged.  As anyone who knows my track record on engagements would know that I don't need another one of those lying around.  Ultimately though, my ex-fiance (Matt) annihilated my emotions and raped my trust to such a degree that it's inconceivable to me at this point to give my heart to someone again.  If he of all people could do what he did, then I can not, in fact, trust anyone.
Slice of bitterness, anyone?  There's more than enough to go  around...

2) OH MY GAWD!!  The new journal betas are here!  Woo-hoo!  I have my watch set for 5 till 2 so I'm ready and waiting for it to go online.  I'm just trying to decide what my first extended-length topic should be.  Yay!  Now I can put up some of my writing!  Subject my apparent readers to the horror of my psyche. 

Just a nobody, standing in a bog.
(That's a reference to Dickenson....)

whsprdphsh at 11:53:15 AM EST Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 3 comments: Show Recent | Add your own

So this morning, I awake by scratching my leg and thinking "Wow, that feels really nice".  Then I scratched my stomach, then my wrist; ended up having to take my watch of because my skin being raw from scratching.  (My skin is very pale-think Nosferatu-and very thin.)  I get up and yada follows yada and about two hours later I'm on my way back to the ER for the 3rd trip this year (04), because I'm covered in thick, red, itchy, painful, welt-like hives.  4 hours after that, I leave the hospital not knowing if I'm allergic to my parents' new dog or the antibiotic I just finished.  I'm not sure myself, but I hope it's the dog.  I love animals, but I've got issues with this dog.  No dog is going to put it's mouth around my daughter's hand and bite and get away with it with me being nice.  Uh-uh.  Not happening.  So, hopefully friday, when I see my dr., I can ask her to tell my mom it's definitely the dog.  Mangey mutt.

I'm not going to make a big deal out of this, as I don't think it's a big deal, but I want to get it down so I can remember it later.  As a result of my various dangerously passionate and ultimately learn-able entanglements, I've come to the conclusion that love is a combination of two things: chemicals and intent. Chemicals including the parts about the poets and the moon and stars.  Anyway, of a couple people I'm fond of at the moment, there's one that sticks out among the others, and since there's not a very big chance he's reading this, I'm bold enough to bring it up.  I'm tempering myself, lest I get carried away, which would be easy in my situation, but I'm feeling a close emotional attachment and it's unnerving because nothing's going to come of it.  Nor, probably should it. This viewpoint is a complete 180 from every other love in my life thus far, but then again, look what's happened to them.... Plus, I need to keep my eyes open for whoever really is meant to be with me. Unless it's him.  Hmmm.  I think no.

Damned if I do, Damned if I don't.

whsprdphsh at 8:25:45 PM EST Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 2 comments: Show Recent | Add your own

::sigh:: I'm so lonely.  It's not the kind of lonely that an email can fill, or a chat room, or a message board.  Today, I was on my way out to have a cigarette and I almost grabbed the phone to call someone to talk to while I smoked.  Who I thought I was going to call is beyond me.  But it's things like that.  I'm not "I need a boyfriend" lonely, I just want some kind of companionship.  Not being able to drive and leave the house, and being with my daughter all day and if not with her then my parents, I'm just not getting the kind of social interaction I need at my age.  Doesn't help the depression much.  I want someone to say I'm going to share a pint of icecream with and then eat the whole thing myself.  Someone to give me a hug or to snuggle against while we watch a movie.  Just, a friend, really.  In a way it was kind of stupid of me to let the couple friends I had slip so easily out the door, but they were so unhealthy for me that it was worse for them to stay.  And I know I have "someone to talk to" in email and all, but I want someone to talk to in person, on the phone; just to hear the comforting voice of someone who wants to know all the mundane details of my life and can find a way to make me laugh. 

Over the years I've learned a lot about friends.  Some are meant to be with you for a short time, some for a long time.  Some have a purpose, some have meaning.  Some are just chance.  Some are abusive and some are enriching.  But every friend made and lost makes up a huge part of who we are.  We pick up characteristics, habits, traits.  We give some to them.  And good or bad, for every friendship, we're better off for having had it.

I'm going to do some chinese brush painting tonight.  Hopefully it will calm my soul.

whsprdphsh at 8:51:10 PM EST Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 6 comments: Show Recent | Add your own

Yay!  I think I'm getting the hang of this ftp thing.  I'm so slow with all this.  Maybe it's my crazy load of apathy,  I don't know, but SO many people wanted me to start putting some effort into my journal (effort?  who?, me?  You people must not know me at all...) and I'm such a sucker for peer pressure (dude, EVERYONE'S poking holes and putting ink and toxic substances in their bodies...com'on...), I had to fall prey.  Next up:adding an image to my about me area.

I'm passing it off as "just because I was sick" and "I was off my meds for a few days", but I feel dear old Mr. depression creeping upon me again.  It came over me like a tsunami.  And I realised that I would do anything short of selling my soul to never feel that way again.  So I thought about it for a few minutes, about how many years I spent in a constant state of utter despair.  And now that I'm on the other side I'm in total awe that I survived.  Well, I almost didn't, but the fact is I did.  And I don't ever want to go there again.  It brings an ache in my soul to imagine it that can only be compared to imagining the loss of my daughter.

Someone wrote to me who read my journal and asked if referring to all this as "mental illness" is ok.  It shocked me into remembering all the billions of people out there who are afraid to call mental illness by it's name, afraid to admit they have it, someone they know has it, some are even afraid to admit that it exists.  Somehow it's a character flaw, faked, or just passed off as being completely dysfunctional and retarded.  The world has a lot to learn and I just hope that I can help atleast one person be a little more tolerant or understand themselves a little better.  I learn not just for my sake, but for the sake of those around me.  And I refuse to be passed off as someone who's "crazy", "lazy", "useless", "worthless", "not living up to my potential" and on and on. 

I'm not saying things the way I want to today, this all sucked.  But this is MY journal and you guys are just reading it.  So deal.   Thpppp.  :-p

whsprdphsh at 12:34:17 PM EST Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 7 comments: Show Recent | Add your own

Ok, I just thought I'd post a quick little entry to explain my absense the past few days, for those of you who noticed.  Thursday, in the middle of the night (as it usually happens), I awoke with the sudden and most prominent urge to vomit.  So, I did what any mother would...I grabbed my daughter's toy bucket, dumped out the dolls and held it out in front of me as I ran up the stairs (because my toilet is broken and hasn't been fixed yet by my landlord [dad] even though I've already done all of the work of snaking it and when that didn't work, detaching it from the wall.  and my mom still hasn't cleaned up the floor from the overflow [no worries, there was no gross stuff, it was a clean back-up, that's what's so annoying], but I mean-EWW!) and proceeded to empty my soul into the cold porcelein, whilst tears ran down my face as my thoughts rested on the fact that I don't have anyone to hold my hair back anymore.  It's the little things you miss.

I'll have another entry tonight.  I'm busy catching up on my 72 pieces of email (I'm at 34) and journals to look at, and I still am a half hour late for making dinner and then I have to get Lily ready for bed.  

I'd like to make a quick note to thank all of you who have left some really great comments.  On more than one occasion they have really kept me going.  Especially a certain special someone, and I hope you know who you are.  You are all very special people and deserve to be reminded of that often.

So, my Valentine's Day was spent half-comatose on the couch making sprinting trips to the bathroom, so I didn't get to send out all the Valentines I wanted to.  Candy and chocolates were also the farthest thing from my mind.  My dad got me a carnation arrangement, it's pretty.  It doesn't match a bit of my decor, but I do really like it.  So anyway, if you didn't get a Valentine and should've, I'm sorry, but I was a bit...indesposed.

Stay tuned, or look above, really, for my next post.  It's about candy, lipstick and windex and the people that love them.  

Four days with no pain meds...I've had tears down my face all day.  I think I've lost all hope in a normal life.  The life I grew up thinking I was going to live.

whsprdphsh at 6:17:52 PM EST Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 5 comments: Show Recent | Add your own

I would like to take this opportunity, that of my first fairly-attractive entry, to wish my dear, and only friend Jim a HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!  He is 25 today and if I could drive my car I'd drive down to Richmond and kidnapp him and show him what a real good time looks like.  Although, I think I'm kidding myself in thinking that he's not already had the time of his life.  

I love birthdays.  I can't wait until Lily's next birthday, especially because it's a big one...5!!  I don't know what the theme will be this year. Last year was Care Bears and another party for her was the Princesses. Year before was Dora the Explorer, and before that was Elmo and the first was Teletubbies.  She's really into the Princesses right now and especially Barbie in Swan Lake (I'm actually caught up in it too.  I'm saving up for the whole set of dolls, and I have a huge poster in my room along with the movie, books, game, etc...), but by her birthday, who knows what she'll like?  I know I'm eventually going to have to take the Bratz issue head-on with her, and I really just hope that our communication skills are strong enough for her to if not understand me, atleast accept my decision as the parent.  I don't want a huge meltdown.

Ah, yes!! Meltdowns!  I've been keeping a paper  journal (so I can take it to the dr.)of Lily's moods, tantrums and behaviour so I can track it and her child psychologist can go over it and analyze emotional trends.  As for the bipolar with her right now it seems like the harder I word and the better job I do...along comes some new difficulty. 

I feel like I'm at the wrong end of the bowling alley.

whsprdphsh at 3:12:16 PM EST Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 6 comments: Show Recent | Add your own