Dream

Bliss in a cup- a Greek coffee frappe. <3 Love.

yes.

Reblog if you are always willing to help a follower in need. No matter who it is. Anyone can just message you.

running from my demons

nope. still don’t like running. 

but i had horrible dreams last night and just decided to put on shoes and go for a run. i dreamt about walking over shattered glass, flat shards that didn’t cut my feet. as i looked down at them they seemed like pebbles, i was mad they were there, i was mad i had to walk over them, i was mad someone broke glass. i picked up a piece - it was oblong, like a parallelogram i thought. i held it tight in my hand, indignant in my anger, feeling self righteous - how could THEY? 

another sleep cycle or two later, easily after 515am (i know this because i looked before i fell asleep again). i’m going in to a grocery store withe my sister and her granddaughter, we buy candy at one of those quarter clicky turny things, with the metal red lids. we are shopping, we meet a handsome clerk - i make the observation that we are all wearing denim and we laugh. i feel a hot rush of embarrassment? anxiety? i feel like i need to leave, go, run. i find a room, like a changing room in a clothing store. i try to lift my top off - maybe if i take this layer off it i will cool off, something will change, i will be settled. but i can’t get it off my torso, can’t lift it any higher than my chest. it’s tight, tighter, i can’t get my arms to move to pull it up and off or down. it feels desperate, claustrophobic, is this how i will be found- strangled by my own clothing? i try again - duck my head down, throw my arms up, the top moves over my mouth and i inhale the fiber of the fabric - i wake with a gasp to morning light. it’s 711am. dammit i have an hour more i can sleep if i try... i’m determined at that moment to get up and run today.

on my excursion today i find a walking path “now open! walking path! and scenic bridge!” it’s less than impressive, but i get a cool photo. and disturbingly i find a tree stump with pieces of glass sitting on top of it, like a forrest shrine. a green piece, a clear bumped bottom of a bottle, two others. i walk a few steps forward and find a milky shard, lightly sticky with mud from the rains yesterday. i place it on the alter. i’ll come back again.

even though i still don’t like running.

new to me - love this.

Old now

I promise I will try...

Share your story so others know they are not alone

Panorama at therapy...

THIS!!!!!!!!!! most of us feel like we aren't doing enough because we can't physically stop a genocide but speaking helps!! pressuring helps!! boycotting helps and protesting helps!! please don't give up on Palestinians not when the entire world has turned their backs on them

here is how YOU can help Palestine

So tired

I so tired of having the same damn fight with him. When I'm High, I can't put one foot I front of the other without concentrating on balance, equilibrium, pace, timing, weight, etc. I can't pick out am outfit- it takes me forty stages of preparation to get out the front door-- with the KID. And he says he feels like he gets the short end of the stick when I'm like that. No shit. You do. Trying to remember which pedal is gas and brake, which side is hot and cold, how does the door lock again? And you want me to what? What? What do you want from me? I asked you, I asked YOU specifically "I need you to tell me I'm going to be okay and I can make it though this day because it's really been a rough morning" and you say I need to get my shit together and toughen up bc we need to have a good year. I need to wha? Seriously. I'm not like you. I can't fight like you do. I don't have that in me. When the wave sweeps over me I can't control it, I wash out to sea with it, ride the tide until it brings me back again. I don't know how to swim, in that moment, I'm keeping my head above water. When I'm not High, I swim. I'm a goddam lifeguard rescuing other people, running down the waters edge yelling "I can help you- hold on!" When I'm High... I can't yell. I can't even cry out, or cry. I just can't do anything other than what is right effing in front of me. This. Boot. Here. Goes. In. This. Basket. This. Plate. Goes. Beside. The. Sink. Because I can't actually process opening up the dishwasher and organizing all the dirty dishes already IN the sink. You don't get it. You do get the short end of the stick, because I have NO stick. I have nothing tangible to hang on to. I breathe. That's what I have. Air. You are lucky to have a stick. You are a goddam adult, take your short stick, understand my meds take four to SIX WEEKS to kick in, and just ... I could be angry here... But all I want is patience. I went two months, sixty three days exactly, without my meds. They titrated me back up, 25mg a week, 50 mg the next week, and only then was I at my full 100 mg. One week ago, eight days. And tonite you say this past week has been a lot easier for you since I've been on my meds. For you. For me? ... Not so much. I'm not even halfway back. My head buzzes like bees. Thoughts scramble. Important things need written down. Remembering doesn't happen. I fight for each hour to keep my mouth shut and not say something stupid bc I don't have a filter. I drive and daydream about not stopping- just driving away... No idea where, just away. I forget the left turn. I forget to urn off the toaster oven so it smells of hot coils and toast when I wake up. I forget to ask if her homework was done and a meltdown ensues. But it's easier for you. So that's nice. I'm still out here in the waves. Waiting for a stick.

lessons learned...

so... today i have learned the following:

-that Lamictal sucks.  it takes away my high, it makes my nose stuffy and makes me eat like a pregnant heiffer...  that which i am not.

-that GAK must be made with Elmers glue... seriously.  it wont work with the cheap stuff.

-that homemade playdoh is a ZILLION times easier to make than Gak, and the kiddo loves it more.

-that i like my highs.  i get some *winks* and go to sleep late, sleep through the night, and wake up early at 630 refreshed, and can make-coffee-unfriend-120-FB-peeps-clean-the-bedroom-unmake-the-bed-put-the-blankets-and-pillows-in-the-wash-and-dryer-feed-the-frog-surf-pinterest-for-twenty-yoga-plans-and-scrub-the-toilets all within about an hour...

but when i take that d@mn Lamictal i freakin CRASH.  it was at 10 i finally took it, b/c i knew, i just KNEW it would kill my high.  and it did.  at 1220 i was telling kiddo to go watch some tv on the ipad and Mommee is taking a nap.  i slept for a whopping 30 minutes (who can sleep with a kid in the house, alone anyway?).  this is an evil drug.  hate it hate it hate it.  three hours later, it finally wears off  - "drivers, start your engines!... and they're off!"

i come out of the fog and make s'mores for the kiddo, drag her to the grocery store, pick up the four things i need, head over to the drug store for a return, go home, mangle the Gak recipe, and make three batches of play doh stuff.  and i realize i am brilliant- as i think of a zillion new yoga classes i can totally teach, invent a new seat cover for the kiddo so she doesnt burn her arse off in this heat, and plan out next years garden in our new home (which, of course, we havent actually bought yet... but i digress... ).  life is good - well, except for the whole stuffy nose thing, STILL.

again -i hate the Lamictal.  its worse than the Seroquel, which is going away next week (commence countdown- night 8... tonite).  i cant tell if the other one, the Risperdal -i hate spelling that- if its working or if its the one that chops me down.  although, i can totally pinpoint the two hour half life of the Lamictal... so im blaming it.  the good doc says that the hives are a sun sensitivity from both meds, and that my aches and pains are from the highs -HA!  i laugh at the thought.  tooooooooo baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad.  i like my highs.  i said that.  oh well - i DO.

what else?...  ...  ... 

OH -i dislike immensely the saying that "you should do what you dislike doing first..".  only a-holes do this, i have decided.  i cleaned the upstairs bathroom- like, scrub-the-doorknobs-and-lightswitches-with-a-toothbrush cleaned.  i LIKE doing them - they are small, i know where everything goes, and it is DONE and i move on.  even the master bedroom is okay.  it is the dining room/office and living room i DESPISE.  there is just NOT enough room, and too much CR@P.  they are still not done.  neither is the laundry to put away (not even WASH, just put away!) or the sewing (yes, i mend things... when i want to be cheap... ). 

i have a brilliant idea again... i salvaged a tv stand from a front yard curb, and i am going to repurpose it as a scrap corner!  whahoo!!!  cant wait.  it is a project for my niece and i for the summer.  cant wait to pick out colors- i am thinking tiffany blue and black.  love that.  and i love blue, and black.  this also will be in my new house, in my new office and craft room.  oh - i do so love a good fantasy. 

okay.  rant closed.