I admit it, I lied to all of you a few months ago, when I said I was back. My mom bought me a journal which I've been using but blogging is so much easier, quicker and I can insert stupid pictures!! Yay!
Since we last talked. I'm still about the same weight (boo!) but I've been struggling with issues of depression, anxiety and bi-polar diagnosis. Bi-polar? Hell, I thought it was normal to scream obscenities at my husband, beg forgiveness, and make love. Doesn't everyone do that? Apparently not according to my therapist. But, what does she know? I'm on meds for depression, anxiety and bi-polar, but I'm NOT a zombie yet, so until I become one, I will continue to write.
Lately, I've thought lots and lots about how short this life is, death, disease, what's important, justice, and the lack of it, why do bad things happen to good people, and why do good things happen to bad people like me. Although my therapist, we'll call her Barbara because that's her real name, and I'm not into fake shit anymore, anyway, she tells me I'm not a bad person. I just have a disorder, the way that folks with diabetes have sugar problems. However, we all know the world doesn't view it that way. Why do bad things happen to little children? I will NEVER understand that. I've argued with God over that a million times, and the only answer I ever get is that child molesters "are redeemed too." Perhaps true, but not good enough for me. I want to torture them the way they torture the innocent.
I'm currently listening to "Follow You, Follow Me" by Genesis, one of my favorite songs by the way. It was "our" song. Me and Wendy. One of my best friends in high school. Me and my dad used to go to Dodgers games every Sunday, but one Friday night he had tickets, so we went. She came over to my house, I wasn't there, she went to a party alone, and was found 2 weeks later raped and murdered. She was a wonderfully beautiful person. I wasn't. I'm still not. Why did that happen to her and not me? Why did she suffer? Is she in a better place now? Does she forgive me for not being home? Had I been home would I have died too, or could I have saved her? The only way her father could identify the body was by her jewelry; that's how badly "he" beat her. What causes that kind of rage? My therapist tells me I have a "Savior Complex." So be it. I'd rather suffer that, than ignoring suffering. Something I'm supposed to be working on. Was I supposed to live to do something stupendous in life, give birth to the next Einstein, was it fate, luck, bad luck, karma, or just the shitty way things happen sometimes?
However, since we've last talked, I've learned I dont' give a shit anymore about my weight. Now, my health, spiritual, mental, and physical is a different matter. I'd rather be fat and happy, than skinny and miserable. But I found myself fat and miserable which equals bad combination. Need to work on my mind and my thoughts before I can work on my body.
I've withdrawn from friends, co-workers, my family, etc., over depression due to things that I cannot change. There is evil in the world. Whether you believe in God, Satan, etc., it doesn't matter, there is evil in the world. Watch the news. How does a mother kill her only child (Caylee Anthony)? How do people kill the very ones they gave birth to? Beats me. I've wanted to slap the shit out of my three, but even I, EVEN I, abstained. And if I'm crazy, and cannot hurt another human being, how do others find it in them to do it?
Okay, enough of all of that. I'm drinking wine so I'm getting morose. Now I'm listening to Dave Matthews, Say Goodbye, that's me and Sam's song. Peaceful, tranquil, lovely. There is goodness and love and peace in the world too. It's just finding it and holding on to it for a moment or two to remember it for those times you want to make the noose and end it all.
I think one of the reasons I love living on the East Coast versus the West Coast where I was raised is the seasons. They remind me there is a time for everything. Time to shut down, time to cry, time to laugh, time to nap, time to cuddle, time to make love, time to remember, time to mourn, etc.
I was expressing all of this the best way I could to my mother a few weeks before Christmas. I used to have a low opinion of my mother. No longer. Anyway, she said, "People think we're supposed to be happy all the time. Suffering is actually the human condition." Then, after she told me that, I read it like about 4 more times in different writings, Jewish, Buddhist, Christian, etc. We all do suffer; it's universal. It's not my problem alone. It belongs to all of us. We all share it.
Since we last talked. I'm still about the same weight (boo!) but I've been struggling with issues of depression, anxiety and bi-polar diagnosis. Bi-polar? Hell, I thought it was normal to scream obscenities at my husband, beg forgiveness, and make love. Doesn't everyone do that? Apparently not according to my therapist. But, what does she know? I'm on meds for depression, anxiety and bi-polar, but I'm NOT a zombie yet, so until I become one, I will continue to write.
Lately, I've thought lots and lots about how short this life is, death, disease, what's important, justice, and the lack of it, why do bad things happen to good people, and why do good things happen to bad people like me. Although my therapist, we'll call her Barbara because that's her real name, and I'm not into fake shit anymore, anyway, she tells me I'm not a bad person. I just have a disorder, the way that folks with diabetes have sugar problems. However, we all know the world doesn't view it that way. Why do bad things happen to little children? I will NEVER understand that. I've argued with God over that a million times, and the only answer I ever get is that child molesters "are redeemed too." Perhaps true, but not good enough for me. I want to torture them the way they torture the innocent.
I'm currently listening to "Follow You, Follow Me" by Genesis, one of my favorite songs by the way. It was "our" song. Me and Wendy. One of my best friends in high school. Me and my dad used to go to Dodgers games every Sunday, but one Friday night he had tickets, so we went. She came over to my house, I wasn't there, she went to a party alone, and was found 2 weeks later raped and murdered. She was a wonderfully beautiful person. I wasn't. I'm still not. Why did that happen to her and not me? Why did she suffer? Is she in a better place now? Does she forgive me for not being home? Had I been home would I have died too, or could I have saved her? The only way her father could identify the body was by her jewelry; that's how badly "he" beat her. What causes that kind of rage? My therapist tells me I have a "Savior Complex." So be it. I'd rather suffer that, than ignoring suffering. Something I'm supposed to be working on. Was I supposed to live to do something stupendous in life, give birth to the next Einstein, was it fate, luck, bad luck, karma, or just the shitty way things happen sometimes?
However, since we've last talked, I've learned I dont' give a shit anymore about my weight. Now, my health, spiritual, mental, and physical is a different matter. I'd rather be fat and happy, than skinny and miserable. But I found myself fat and miserable which equals bad combination. Need to work on my mind and my thoughts before I can work on my body.
I've withdrawn from friends, co-workers, my family, etc., over depression due to things that I cannot change. There is evil in the world. Whether you believe in God, Satan, etc., it doesn't matter, there is evil in the world. Watch the news. How does a mother kill her only child (Caylee Anthony)? How do people kill the very ones they gave birth to? Beats me. I've wanted to slap the shit out of my three, but even I, EVEN I, abstained. And if I'm crazy, and cannot hurt another human being, how do others find it in them to do it?
Okay, enough of all of that. I'm drinking wine so I'm getting morose. Now I'm listening to Dave Matthews, Say Goodbye, that's me and Sam's song. Peaceful, tranquil, lovely. There is goodness and love and peace in the world too. It's just finding it and holding on to it for a moment or two to remember it for those times you want to make the noose and end it all.
I think one of the reasons I love living on the East Coast versus the West Coast where I was raised is the seasons. They remind me there is a time for everything. Time to shut down, time to cry, time to laugh, time to nap, time to cuddle, time to make love, time to remember, time to mourn, etc.
I was expressing all of this the best way I could to my mother a few weeks before Christmas. I used to have a low opinion of my mother. No longer. Anyway, she said, "People think we're supposed to be happy all the time. Suffering is actually the human condition." Then, after she told me that, I read it like about 4 more times in different writings, Jewish, Buddhist, Christian, etc. We all do suffer; it's universal. It's not my problem alone. It belongs to all of us. We all share it.
No comments:
Post a Comment