I'm reading the Pit and the Pendulum by Edgar Allan Poe. Exquisite how his words dance in the air, I can almost touch them. They steal my focus and attention, I caress every word with my fingertips then shove them greedily in my mind to be projected before me in a whirlwind of musical notes. How I love this literary artist, Edgar Allan Poe.
Feathers.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Thursday, June 11, 2009
June 11, 2009
More white feathers.
Really trying to get through the day with positive thought and action. Feeling etter. Laundry, cleaned kitchen, went grocery shopping, drug store, bank and vet all accomplished before 2:00 pm. I wasn't together enough to shop yesterday and I forgive myself. I have an ice-pack on my head, reading, writing, watching tv, relaxing with Roxy my dog. It is all going to be okay. Oh yah, picked up smokes too. Lots done. Making mistakes is what makes us human.
Really trying to get through the day with positive thought and action. Feeling etter. Laundry, cleaned kitchen, went grocery shopping, drug store, bank and vet all accomplished before 2:00 pm. I wasn't together enough to shop yesterday and I forgive myself. I have an ice-pack on my head, reading, writing, watching tv, relaxing with Roxy my dog. It is all going to be okay. Oh yah, picked up smokes too. Lots done. Making mistakes is what makes us human.
June 10, 2009
Angels visit me nightly. When I wake up there are white feathers all over the floor.
I am having total fear of leaving the house, my safe room with my cute little dog and all my beautiful things, to go do the things I have to do. We have no food and I don't want to go to the store because I'm afraid of people. I hate this. I have an ice-pack on my head, am drinking chamomile tea, called my therapist, made a cognitive counselling appt (with the most stupid receptionist on the face of this earth - I held my temper back as much as I could with her, only saying"no kidding" really loud because she tried to blame her lack of knowlege of her job on me - not my fault! Didn't say any swear words like I wanted to).
Later . . . Okay, I did part of the grocery shopping.
I am having total fear of leaving the house, my safe room with my cute little dog and all my beautiful things, to go do the things I have to do. We have no food and I don't want to go to the store because I'm afraid of people. I hate this. I have an ice-pack on my head, am drinking chamomile tea, called my therapist, made a cognitive counselling appt (with the most stupid receptionist on the face of this earth - I held my temper back as much as I could with her, only saying"no kidding" really loud because she tried to blame her lack of knowlege of her job on me - not my fault! Didn't say any swear words like I wanted to).
Later . . . Okay, I did part of the grocery shopping.
June 8, 2009 - Later that day . . .
I feel sick, panic, exaustion and fear. I keep taking Haldol like I'm supposed to, but it's not working. Add sad. I want to cry for unknown reasons. My tummy feels like I swallowed hot, liquid steel. I am seizing and freezing up from the inside out. Paralyzed. Overwhelmed.
June 8, 2009
My emotions are reeling as I dive into understanding the psychology of Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). It's like looking at your own brain after it was in a bad car crash. This feels scary and humiliating. I'm terrified of being abandoned in this vulnerable state. I've spent my whole life thinking about myself. It is time to give back to the world. Through my experience, by God. That is what I always admired, idolized even. I am beginning to make that dream come true as I become self-realized on these pages before you. My gift to the world IS myself. Not my body or my education, but my wisdom through writing, music, and art. Mom, I made it. Successs in the the eye of the beholder. It is subjective!
Sunday, June 7, 2009
June 7, 2009: "Black Holes"
This world is such an illusion. The human race is so f*cked up. Our priorities are imbalanced. We lie to ourselves and believe our own bullshit. We selfishly propigate while we destroy the world around us. How is that exactly giving our children a future? Any hands? We go to elaborate lengths to construct and maintain these lies - through social norms, relision, educational settings, and even entertainment. We begin to idolize these lies, even creating rituals to give them some sign of life, some mystery. We program our minds to seek these lies out and identify with them and we take them with us to the grave. We expect them from other people and when they come up short we are disappointed. We buy them, sell them, eat them, worship them. They have become the status quo. We cling to them like desperate children. They nurture our askew perceptions of ourselves and other people. Wheat is this really saying about the human race? Are we all just BLACK HOLES?
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