edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
I'm sorry everyone for my last post.

Thank you, T, for your reply. You helped more than you will know.

I just had...a bad day. I woke up, and today is the day I have to fight with my case worker to try and keep my paltry fucking $14 a month in food stamps, and I didn't have money to buy any food for this week, so I've been making food stretch as best I can, and I'm paying $25 a paycheck for a bill I hope to have paid off soon, and as soon as that is paid up, I'm going to start to pay $25 a paycheck to a friend to pay back the $200 I owe her, and I just saw my life stretching out in front of me with not even enough money to pay for a cab to drive me places, so I've been walking on my aching joints, wincing in pain, and having to listen to "friends" say "Jesus, you never smile, you just stomp by, glaring," and I'm thinking, "you put up with the pain I'm feeling right now, and we'll see if you even have the strength enough to WALK, let alone smile."

It's been a bad week. A bad month. A bad year...couple of years...yeah. I don't have the money next paycheck to get a $10 roll of quarters to wash my clothes, so I'm going to try and wash some things in the sink, and I'm using dishwashing detergent as laundry detergent, and I'm dealing with cramps because I don't have the money to keep buying naproxen sodium to dull the pain all the time (yes, I have tried every, and I mean every, other OTC drug for these cramps. No, nothing works except naproxen sodium) and I'm tired and achy and about ready to fucking stab the next goddamn person who tells me to "be thankful in everything" or "trust in God." You know what someone had the BALLS to say to me the other day? I expressed my whole issue with the email from my former pastor and his wife, and how I was worried about what I should do, what my ministry entails, should I tell people Jesus loves them when I know that horror like this awaits them if they listen to voices other than mine, and I was honest about how I've never felt like God really loved me and I was really going to heaven, and this guy had the CRUST to reply "The bible says that a double minded person is unstable in all his ways. You should get some learning into you so you're not so double-minded and unstable. The Gay Christian Network has lots of resources for you. You should read them."

Ok, fucknugget. First of all, I OWN EVERY GODDAMN BOOK ON THE SUBJECT OF BEING GAY AND CHRISTIAN. THERE IS NOTHING THIS WEBSITE CAN TELL ME THAT I DON'T ALREADY KNOW BECAUSE I READ IT SOMEWHERE ELSE (AND READ IT BETTER, SINCE THAT WEBSITE HAS A BUNCH OF ESSAYS THAT REALLY, TRULY MAKE ME ASHAMED TO BE AN ENGLISH MAJOR...HOLY HELL BAD WRITING BAD EXEGESIS BAD CHRISTIAN). Second of all, even though I have read all these things, amazingly enough , I STILL HAVE QUESTIONS BECAUSE IT'S IRRESPONSIBLE TO JUST ACCEPT EVERYTHING YOU READ YOU FUCKING HALFWIT. Yes, I've gathered that some people believe that you can be gay and be a Christian and some people believe that God blesses same-sex relationships. Yes, this is what I've wanted to believe my entire life. Does this mean I read and then automatically go, "Oh, ok, I believe this now, tra la la, everything is sunshine and rainbows and happycakes"? It better fucking not mean that, or I'm a student not worth her salt. I'd better struggle and pray and consider every side of every decision or I can't say that goddamn decision was a good one, now can I? Yes, sometimes I over think things and I need to put more faith in other people. But do you want to see the scars I have from putting too much trust in other people? I have lots of them, some of them in places you wouldn't want to see (you don't even want me to type it, it would make you uncomfortable, just put it out of your mind). If I believe everything people told me just because there were lots of essays and books on the subject, I'd believe being gay can be changed, because there's lots of essays about THAT, and I read them long before I read the essays on the Gay Christian Network.
Is questioning, wondering, angsting, praying, crying, and deliberating a decision a bad thing for me to do? Somehow I don't think that's what the author of Proverbs had in mind when he told me that a double minded person is unstable in all his ways.

Plus I got "a word from the lord" through a person saying that this time of pain in my life, the lack of money to pay bills, the lack of food, everything that's wrong, is god's way of telling me that I'm heading down the wrong path. If I ignore God, I will end up like Jonah, in the belly of a big fish. I need to turn and repent and set my feet on the right path and blah blah blah homosexual desires blah blah blah.

And you know what? I don't think that's true. Do I? I don't know. Am I just running away from the truth that I know is true? I don't think so. Do I? So I expressed that it's hard for me to just dismiss ideas like that when it's been drilled into my head for so many years that people run from God and they fly into sin and they refuse to admit the truth even though they know the truth, and I see my Christian friends (or rather my former friends) living and thriving and not having the problems I have with money, and YES, I DO doubt sometimes, I DO wonder sometimes if this is all punishment and if they are right and I am wrong. I don't know how I could grow up in an environment where this idea was carved into my soul for years and NOT wonder about it from time to time. But I shared this with a guy, and he said "So you're just going to keep living in blind faith just because that's what you were taught? How weak of you."

OMG WAT? When did I say I was clinging to blind faith? How...what...but...why do you...?

You know what? FUCK YOU PEOPLE. JESUS CHRIST. I CAN'T BELIEVE OR SAY ANYTHING WITHOUT SOMEONE JUMPING UP MY ASS ABOUT IT.

I AM SO DONE. SO. DONE.

So I'm hungry right now (I've been hungry all day; I need to eat something soon, I'm getting woozy) but I need to explain my post (because you guys know me...I don't give up...I wouldn't be here if I did...even when I've drowned, even when I've tried to commit suicide, my body refuses to die, because parts of me keep fighting to live even when my will to live is gone). I'm hungry all day, and I'm cold but afraid to turn on the heat because the bill will be high, and I don't have money for food but I tromped off to the store to redeem a coupon I have for a free frozen meal from Kashi (mmm, pesto pasta) with my joints and legs aching, crying in pain, wishing a bus would just hit me, and I fired off that last post right before I left for my appointment this afternoon. I wasn't looking for sympathy or anything, I was just trying to think of an update for you guys, and giving up was the only thing I could think of at that moment, so it's all I could say. I'm sorry. I don't give up. I kind of want to, though. We'll see what my worker does. I hope I don't lost my $14 a month. She was sympathetic, but she has to follow the rules herself, so her hands are tied. She tried to get me signed up with Medicaid but I make too much money (where "too much money" means "not enough money to actually afford medical treatment for yourself but too much money for us to pay for medical treatment for you").

But I'm ok. Seething with rage and about ready to drop kick everyone off the nearest cliff, maybe, but ok. And contrary to what I MAY HAVE SAID, I'm not giving up.

edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
So on Saturday, I got a sore throat. This isn't a big deal, as I'm used to getting sore throats, though mine tend to be bad by most standards. I took some day quil to mellow out at work and waited for the first three days of my cold to be over and for my throat to start feeling better.

...

By Monday, my "cold" had blossomed into searing pain in my throat that was so bad I writhed in pain on my bed unable to sleep and spitting up most of what I had to swallow. The sides of my throat are bulging and red and they have a whitish center (I tried to get some pictures, but nothing took) and not to mention that, my regimen of drinking orange juice and gargling with salt water had left my throat burned and raw so it was bleeding every time I coughed. I'm fucking done with the salt water, people. The shit burns and it makes me puke and I don't care if it works for other people, it doesn't work for me. I only used it because dilute peroxide didn't work either and the doctors told me not to use the mouth wash because it was burning and scarring the tissues in my mouth, but I'm not THAT desperate to gargle with something. Fuck salt water. Fuck gargling. And fuck orange juice. I'm drinking raspberry iced tea and liking the feeling of not having searing napalm dumped down my throat every time I take a sip. But I digress. My condition aroused concern at work, and when we got out early this morning, one of my coworkers offered to drive me to the emergency room, so I took her up on the offer. The nurses and the doctor freaked when they saw my glands ("Thaaat's not good...your throat is definitely angry" were the doctor's exact words) and after doing a throat culture which was negative for strep (like it always is) they did some blood work. they're suspecting I might have mono (I must have made out with typhoid Mary in my sleep) but either way, the writhing I did on the hospital bed must have impressed them, because they prescribed me Cephalaxin (or something like that, the doctor spelled it and it looked like K-PAX, I shit you not, I'm taking alien medication from Kevin Spacey's home planet) and 800 mg Motrin AND VICODIN. For a SORE THROAT. The doctor said "That looks like it's causing you some agony and I want you to be able to sleep."

So let me get this straight...I have my cervix ripped out and I get squat, but I get a sore throat and NOW you give me Vicodin? Don't get me wrong, I'm very grateful that they took my pain seriously, but sheesh people.

We got out of the hospital at 5 AM and Marilyn drove me home because the pharmacy doesn't open until 9 AM, so I napped a bit and then picked up al my prescriptions. I'm still in a lot of pain but I can talk a lot easier now. I'm marveling that the doctor didn't even mention the A word (Amoxicillin or Augmentin, you take your pick, those were the drugs prescribed to me by the bucket load when I was a teen with sore throats every fucking week) and this new drug doesn't fuck around, you take it FOUR times a day for ten days, none of this "take twice daily" bullshit. Plus, Vicodin? Really? And did you guys know 20 Vicodin only cost $12.44? Dude. That's like, cheaper than Tylenol (ok, it's not, but still, nowhere near as bad as I feared). I'm just hoping my paycheck deposits before I overdraw, but again, I'm in pain, so I didn't have much of a choice, I took so much Tylenol and Aleve and ibuprofen yesterday that I threw up and that burned like hell not to mention it didn't help the pain any.

I'm concerned about the medical bill, but they're billing medicaid since they say that staph infections and other infections like this can go along with the cervical nastiness (I don't ask questions, people say screwy things and I just smile and nod) so if the medicaid bitches and throws the bill back at me, I'll use my tax money to pay it. I just hope it works out and this pain goes away.
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (empty wallet)
I am in so much pain right now I kind of wish I was dead (more than usual). The cauterized flesh is starting to come off (the papers they gave me at the surgery said it would be about a week later) so it's peeling off like a scab, so I'm bleeding, but it's not like having a period. that blood is all mixed in with...cervical snot and fluids and stuff. this is just pure blood, so it's all thin and runny and it's all drippy and icky, and I was doubled over in pain crying for most of the day popping Aleve every half hour or so. It hurts less now, but it still hurts a lot. I've been taking antacids to try and calm my stomach because it wants to spew all over ad I'm miserable and SO EXCITED about working tomorrow. OMG.




50 Book Challenge Update

35. "Found You" by Mary Sangiovanni

This is a genuinely scary little horror novel. I've missed those. It's not perfect, but it's so good I want to read it again. That's saying a lot. There is a creature from some other dimension known as "The Hollower." It feeds on people's insecurities and fears, those hidden things we don't show to those around us. the creature exploits them and feeds on them until eventually it destroys people. This shit is better than Stephen King's "It," I'm telling you. I had shivers more than once. This is apparently a sequel to a book called "The Hollower," and it reveals the ending of that book, so I recommend you read that first before you read this one (I won't have that luxury, but even though I know how the original will end now, I still want to check it out because this one was so good). I have enough insecurities of my own to feel deeply for these characters, even when they're making the dumbest boneheaded moves (which they do a LOT).



36. "Beware" by Richard Laymon

This book...ok, I'm sorry. This book sucks. It blows rabid donkey dick and I really don't get why so many people write raving reviews for this author. His other books had damn well better be better than this tripe because otherwise I need to punch some people. This book starts off okl with an invisible menace stalking a town, then it keeps veering off to talk about this James Bond like guy in another country, and then we find out who the invisible menace is about twenty pages into the book and the invisible menace is stupid and annoying, and then we find out there's this big conspiracy and some kind of underground group like a cult that uses magic and SERIOUSLY they belong in a James Bond movie (which I guess it's convenient we have Bond himself here to fight them) and I just wanted to rock back and forth and weep. How is this even a HORROR novel? It's not even close! Yes, it was a page turner (mostly because I couldn't stop turning pages to see how it could possibly get any worse...which it kept doing, by the way) and I can see that the guy has writing talent, but I for one didn't give a shit about his characters, so...fail. Epic fail. NEXT.


37. "The Reach" by Nate Kenyon

Good stuff here. There is a little girl who has been hospitalized since the age of two. A new doctor is checking up on her, and though the girl is so heavily tranquilized she can barely function, we sense that she has some great power that's being mistaken for psychosis. The book is really interesting and it moves along well. I like the characters too, even when they do despicable things, because they're so interesting that I can't help but relish them. It's just...it's not as COOL as "Found You." And it rings a little too close to Stephen King's "Firestarter" for my taste, even though the books have enough differences that it's certainly not a rip off, I just couldn't enjoy it as much as I wanted to. I'm reading a lot of Leisure horror novels this go round, and I'm finding I don't like them as much as I wish I could.


38. "Does My Head Look Big in This?" by Randa Abdel-Fattah

This book is really interesting. It's about a teenage girl who's Muslim, and she lives in Australia, and she decides to start off her sixteenth year at school wearing the hijab, the Muslim head scarf, full time. She narrates the book and explains why she made this decision and how she feels at each stage of the book as other kids heap prejudice on her. I learned even more about Islam after reading this book (hey, did you guys know that Islam is the light? This baby doll told me...) I liked that the character seemed real, with real reactions and emotions, and she's down to earth about what she believes and why. This is definitely one of the better books I've read during this challenge and I'm so glad I got the chance. [livejournal.com profile] peskipiksi, I know you don't usually do fiction, but you should check this one out.
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (suicidal)
Here's everything you always wanted to know about the loop electrosurgical excision procedure (LEEP) but were afraid to ask.

First, the doctor shoves a speculum up your cooch, shoves it around, and then yanks it out because he decided to use a different one. Then he shoves that one in and shoves it around until it becomes crystal clear that he has no idea what it's like to have a vagina. You contemplate shoving the speculum up his ass to give him an inkling of what he's doing to you. Then you lie there squirming while he swabs your cervix with dye and vinegar so the abnormal cells will stand out (hat no one will tell you is that vinegar BURNS like acid) then you shoot bolt upright in pain and scream because he neglected to inform you that he was shoving a needle into the wall of your cervix to numb it. Now on some level I get that he doesn't like to warn people because then they tense up, but JESUS CHRIST that fucking thing hurts. Then you get to feel it AGAIN when he does the other side. This numbs your cervix but NOT the rest of your vagina, as you feel every time he shoves the speculum all over while he's rooting around in there. Then he attaches this long tube to a machine that's like a vacuum and he attaches some fun looking blades to the end, and he shoves THAT up your cooch and sucks out a sample and then another, then he shoves some other torture device up there to cauterize the wound and keep it from bleeding too much. It smells like burning flesh and you begin to contemplate whether they just shoves a blowtorch up your cunt. Then he yanks the speculum out and you bleed profusely all over while he says "don't worry, that's normal." Thanks, I feel comforted. then they tell you to lie down on the hard leather table in the freezing cold room with your vagina screaming in pain and blood leaking out of your twat and they tell you to RELAX. Oh yeah, that's going to happen. Then they make you lie there for approximately forty seven years until they finally let you crawl down, get dressed, and go home.

I am in PAIN. Try telling them that though, they talked to me like I was overreacting (Here, give me that speculum, I'll show you overreacting).

Don't give me *hugs* as I might bleed or vomit on you if you squeeze me. Just please shoot me now and put me out of my misery.
edgarallenfrog: (pissed off)
Well, my night at work last night was just about the shittiest it could possibly have been. First, I got yelled at for asking someone to cover my shift on Sunday (apparently we're not allowed to ask people to cover for us even if we're dying and bleeding from the eyes, who knew) and we had to finish all the stocking from the night before plus whatever came on the truck last night, and we weren't allowed to leave until it was finished, so we were there until after 9 AM this morning. I stocked 10 skids by myself and had to run around helping people and customers, and I was lifting so much that I tore the new healed skin out of my incisions and started pissing and throwing up blood (not torrents or anything, just small amounts, which they told me would happen if I did too much lifting, but still, it was freaky; since they just use liquid band aid and don't stitch anything the skin is very easy to tear but it's still creepy to have blood coming out of there that you know is from incisions, and of course the pain made me nauseous and made me throw up which in turn made my throat ache and bleed, so that's probably where the blood in my vomit came from, it's happened before) but we had so much fucking stock to do that I didn't want to let them down by saying "hey, I'm throwing up blood, can I stop now?" so I just plowed through it and tried not to cry when people made fun of me for not wanting to lift heavy things. I am in SO MUCH pain right now. Plus, to make the night even more fun, there's this newer guy named Coley who started out good but now sucks ass stocking in any other area other than the one we started him in, ans he fucked around all night when I was in the toy department trying to help him stock, and he kept laughing at me and knocking toys out of my hand while I was trying to stock them like a fucking five year old. I wanted to kill him. Then to top off the wonderful evening, the floor crew (which is made up of all Mexican people who don't speak English) started yelling at me because there was stuff on the floor and they couldn't clean, and they started moving our skids of stock around so they could clean, which they're not supposed to do; they're supposed to clean around our stuff, not move it, and they were driving the pallet jacks around and crashing into things and laughing and I finally had to call the manager over to talk to them because I was too angry and was going to kill them if I tried talking to them myself. All in all it was a really shitty night and we still didn't get everything done, so we have more to look forward to tonight. I'm so tired. And I have to work Sunday too. Maybe I'll get lucky and bleed to death in my sleep so I don't have to go in.

Plus also to add to all that, I got a card from my mom a few days ago and in it she mentioned in passing that my grandmother died a few months ago and no one bothered to tell me about it, so I keep thinking about her and how I never got to say goodbye and crying about it. Bleh. Blubber blubber.

BUT LET'S NOT TALK ABOUT THAT )

Bah

Jan. 28th, 2008 07:46 pm
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
Getting up at 6 every morning is kicking my ass. Plus dealing with snippy-snap at work and hauling scalding hot grease out to the hot grease dumpster in the morning is really hard. Today I dropped the grease shuttle (it's very slippery and heavy and awkward) and it fell on me. I have burns all up and down my arm and some on my face. the ones on my lips hurt like hell. I'm tired and hot and in pain and I don't want to go to work tomorrow for 8 hours, or the next day for 9 hours with snippy-snap all day long. The stress is really getting to me. I wish I had some burn ointment but I don't have any money. I want to cry. I'm going to go do that.

Ugh

Sep. 28th, 2007 04:48 pm
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
Don;t think I'm down. I'm not. I mean, I'm out of work and I have two days off so I'm excited about that. I'm just so tired. I forgot my shoes today so I spent four hours on my feet having to run back and forth in shoes that were three sizes too tight and I appreciate the loan of the shoes but my feet hurt so bad that my toenails bled because they were digging into my toes. It was bad. And Angela was her usual sunny self, snapping at everyone all day long. So I have a migraine now.

I know my doctor wants me to write down everything that's happening when I get my migraines and what causes them, but I already know what it is. They come when I'm stressed which means I get one after every work day when I work with Angela and I have no other out...like today when I had the shoes that were too small so I couldn't walk into the walk in and escape from her for awhile, and yesterday when I was on drive-thru and we were so busy I had to be around her all the time. The stress pulses in my head and I know a migraine is coming, and when the little streamers of light start floating in front of my eyes I know one is coming. And the migraines also come on days when I don't get enough sleep and when I don't get enough sleep so I take a nap, I ALWAYS have a migraine when I wake up from a nap. It's more stress than anything else, and I grit my teeth to the point where my jaw, neck, and head throb from holding back the urge to kill. So yeah, migraine fun. They're much better than they used to be, but there's an extent to which I can't prevent them, I have to work. Everyone is full of super helpful advice like "you should get enough sleep!" I don't sleep well moron, never have, yes, before you ask, I've seen doctors and I've been on almost every kind of sleeping pill and no, none of them work. It's my body's response to life and stress and it's a part of my anxiety and I've lived with it for years so yes, I know it better than you do and you telling me I need to sleep doesn't help me. Ugh. Anyway. So yeah, I'm good and excited about the time off but I'm getting very very tired of people. If I could kill a large number of them I think it would make me feel a lot better.

In better body news though, my bowels are doing better than they ever have in my life. I know that's gross but it's true. I haven't had daily bowel movements that came at the same time since...well, since I can remember so I'm sure it was when I was a baby if it ever happened at all. No more constipation for Lillian! I must be doing something right with my diet. And now I take nothing but liqui-gels for my pain now, so there's no irritating constipation on the day after I take pills for my migraines.

Broken

Aug. 23rd, 2007 04:07 pm
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
Someone sent me a link to this website. There, I found a link to their blog. Since it won't let me just copy and paste a link for you guys, here's the text (it's long as fuck, but very poetic, and it reads fast).

Holy shit, Batman, You Write Like a Poet! )

...

I've been in a bad state ever since I read that. I've been crying my eyes out, and the only thing I could think to say was jumbled and disjointed, so I posted it as a reply in spite of itself:

Where were the people like you? Where do you grow, that I might find you? My Christians called me a selfish, sick whore, one called me a dog and a pig, my campus minister said he didn't want new people coming into the church to see me, my pastor said my shyness was because of pride and if I wanted to be prideful I could leave his church, my Christian treatment center drugged me with Haldol and Lithium and held me down and stripped me while they were reciting Bible verses and telling me they knew I was evil because God said we know people by their fruits (I blacked out after that, I don't remember the rest). I spent eight years of my life devoted, on my knees, wailing and weeping and pleading with God to show Himself to me and speak through me and heal whatever sickness was wrong in me that made me into something so vile and unlovable. I helped build five houses for homeless people in Mexico, I gave my money and my time and in the end all I was to these people was a bottle of pills, a pariah, something shameful that they wanted to hide. The church took my dignity and my spirit and whatever I'd managed to grow after living in abuse and death and pain for sixteen years and they shattered it into a million pieces in the mud.

I'm alive now (barely) and the hatred they covered me with in the name of love is mostly subsiding. I'm never stepping foot inside a church again as long as I live, because whatever God they bow their knees and pray to, I don't want to serve Him. Ever. Where are the people like you? They sure as h*ll don't exist around here. Now I talk with kids and teens and I tell them they can survive abuse and I listen to them when they cry, but I'm afraid for them, I'm terrified they will encounter the world I did when I tried to find God inside the walls of every church I could. And it's still on, I still get emails saying I'm not serving Christ and instead I'm serving Satan by watching horror movies (nothing on film could match the horror I've lived through, believe me). Someone sent me this link and I read your page and it makes me angry, it makes me want to throw glass and break things and scream until I've got no voice left because this love you talk about is the same love I heard preached and yelled and screamed into my face for eight years and it did nothing but cripple me farther. I'm haunted by the demons that were cast INTO my soul in those days, I can't get them out, I can drink myself into a stupor and I vomit up nothing but bile, I can carve my arms raw and bleed out nothing but blood, those demons are here to stay. If I thought for one moment that God's love was bigger than this and that it could make me feel for even a SECOND that I was free in the way you describe, I'd run to Him. But the terror and the shame and the darkness disguised as light keep me away because they're all I've ever known of the Christian God. For all you people talk about love and make it sound real, people like me who want nothing more than to "dance in white dresses" find nothing but condemnation behind the walls of your cathedrals. But then I read this and I'm reminded all over again how much I long for that love and how much I searched for it, for years, with blood sweat and tears. If it's real...I never saw it. And it's all I ever wanted. Ever.

I wish you the best, don't take this as me condemning you in any way, I appreciate your passion and your words, but they stir up the pain and anguish that hides behind the empty shell that was once my heart, and that raises hackles I didn't even know I had. Don't let anybody ever kill that passion, and keep being real. Just...I wish I could believe what you say, I wish it with everything within me that CAN still wish. And I can't see the screen through my tears anymore, so I'll stop now. I'm sorry.

...

I miss Torrey and Vincent. I love John's kids.

...

I'm not doing so well.
edgarallenfrog: (pissed off)
Ok, this is bullshit. Just because you think you're supposed to be making babies does not give you the right to double me over in pain while I'm trying to walk to work, fucking uterus. Jesus Christ. I thought I was going to die today, and I'm not exaggerating, it felt like someone lit a blowtorch in my lower abdomen and I had to drag myself the 3 miles to work and the 3 miles back. I OD'd on so much pain medication I almost threw up, but it didn't help. Plus, I didn't even have music to distract me, so I was crying in pain and wanting to stab something (preferably my own face). FUCK THIS. I'm giving myself a hysterectomy with a steak knife. Hear that, Uterus? You're DONE, bitch.
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
Oooh, Purty )

I'm going to try to get this song out of my head now. I should have known better than to listen to it in the first place.



Wait...now I'm listening to it again...powerless...to...stop...music...

*dies*
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
Before you read this, please promise you won't get pissed at me for writing it. Seriously. I know it's going to piss someone off, and I don't want that. It will help you to know this relevant information before reading:

http://malakijr.livejournal.com/342195.html

http://malakijr.livejournal.com/341310.html

http://malakijr.livejournal.com/340228.html

Anyway, here goes. Oh Fuck THIS, I'm Cutting It )

Well, now that I've pissed you all off, I'm done now. But I don't WANT to hurt you or piss you off, or scare you or make your lives any harder than they have to be. I'm just tired of holding this all inside me and I've let parts of it out, spooging all over a few of you on LJ or Myspace or in email...but I want to get this out, it's like a cancer inside me. My uncle died of cancer. By the time he went to the doctor, the tumor in his throat was the size of a grapefruit and they couldn't do anything for him. That's how my family was, they held things inside until it killed them. I can't do that, I won't be like them, I have to talk somewhere, it's the only way I keep myself alive. Please understand that. Please. I love you all. Good night.

Scars

Jun. 20th, 2007 06:19 pm
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
Hey there everyone. You might want to stop reading now. Shoo. Go away. Emo girl needs to say a few things, and the grown-ups might not like them.

I suck, and I don't even have the decency to reply to your comments, so you should probably deleet me and write a long blog entry about me and the "scares" on my arm and how I need serious professional help.

If you read my journal recently you know what I'm raving like a madwoman about. :-p And I should just let it go, but that guy really pissed me off. I happen to LIKE the magazine pictures on my wall, they add character. I also have a lot of props and a huge fucking ghoul hanging over my TV that doesn't look like a magazine picture to me, but I'm not as wise as him, so I mist just be crazy. And he even said I'm crazy, so I guess it works out. Grr. Just because he may have different coping mechanisms than I do doesn't make him superior to me or something. He's an ignorant fool reacting like an ignorant fool to seeing scars (excuse me, "SCARES") on my arms. He has no idea what's even going on. For his information, I was in therapy for years. Ask any therapist worth a fucking damn, especially Dr. Totten in Big Rapids (one of the wisest men alive) and they'll tell you cutting is a coping mechanism, that's it. People do different things to cope, I like the scars, I can't afford to get tattoos, so this is what I do. I even talked to Dr. Totten this year like I do every year and he said the same thing he always does, he would be willing to talk with me, but I don't need a therapist, I need support and people around me to talk to, and making my scarification fetish a huge deal and causing drama about it isn't going to get to the core issues that make me actually do it, so it would be counter productive. He says when I'm in a supportive community of people, I do well, and when I'm not, the pain creeps up and it gets to me until I use my pain fetish to my advantage, it's that simple. It's not something that could be solved by anything but living through the pain like I do every day and coming out on the other side scarred but stronger, drugs only cover up the problem instead of making me face it.

Sure you could find people who'd say I need to take medication. It's much easier to medicate people so that they don't think unpopular thoughts or do things we don't understand. Name any major psychotheraputic drug and I've probably been on it at one time or another, it was the only way that doctors knew to treat me when suddenly they had a 17 year old on their hands who had been through what I went through, and the drugs didn't help, they made me a zombie who couldn't function without sleeping 19 hours a day. I didn't need them, I got them and got church out of my life, and the guilt and shame eased up and I was able to function again, and I didn't even have the urge to scar for two years until last night. It's easy for you to tell me that it's stupid or childish or that its dangerous for me to do it, or you used to do it but you "grew out of it" and I should too. Good for you, do you want a fucking cookie? I've "grown out of" a lot of things in my life, this is one that I come back to when the pain gets to be too much. I went for two years without it, and I pretty much figured I was done this time. I know that it really doesn't help anything in a practical sense, but it makes me feel better, and last night, that was what I needed more than anything. I was tired of feeling like shit. I don't feel like shit now. Problem solved, and I don't really give a fuck if it's only a temporary solution, it's the only one that has EVER worked for me even temporarily, so I'm going with it. I was done with this. I've done things to myself all my life, from the time I was four years old. I was made ot feel so much shame for being 4 years old and being attracted to men, my mom even added to the heap by telling me I was sick and there was something wrong with me and that I was a bad girl, she didn't even believe that it was happening to me until she brought me to the guy's house and got to see it for herself, and then she told me it was my fault. How am I supposed to deal with that? You tell me what I'm supposed to do with that, and I will. I survived by giving in, I learned it when I was 5. Not struggling made the pain easier, liking it took the pain away. Pleasure and pain have been tied together in my brain ever since, I don't know how to have one without the other. All I've ever known is shame, even being a Christian meant being ashamed of how imperfect I am, and everyone in my life has heaped so much shame and guilt down on me for what I felt and what I did that there was nothing I could do with the shame except externalize it into pain, and it felt good. I really don't care if you think that's unhealthy. I don't even know what healthy is.

I know you'll be shocked to hear this, but telling me that I need help doesn't actually help me. And I know that sounds harsh and people are just trying to be helpful, but I'm sorry, I know I'm not "healthy" and I know my thoughts and feelings and needs better than you do, and I get tired of having to apologize for who I am all the time just because it makes people uncomfortable. I'm sorry that pain turns me on, I'm sorry that I like the look of my scars and when I go out in public you have to see them, I'm sorry that you're more normal than I am. I don't really think I need help. c I was actually doing fine last year. I hadn't cut in a year, the pain and shame were gone for the most part, I worked all the time so I had no time but I didn't have anyone and I didn't need anyone. Then I opened my heart to someone. For the first time in my life, I was introduced to the idea of sex being something that didn't have to be shameful, I was introduced to pleasure without pain (I still like both) and I learned what it's like to lie in bed and feel someone next to you who loves you and wants to be there. I didn't want that at all, but I found it, and now that it's been taken from me I don't know how I'm going to cope some days, the pain is like a dull ache in my chest that gets worse ay time I see anything that reminds me of what I lost (which is pretty much everything). I really don't have anything to work toward, I graduated from college and I live on my own, I don't really want to do anything so I don't have goals because there's nothing that excites me, I don't have a husband or wife or girlfriend or boyfriend, I don't have any kids, I just have me and I'm really tired of being here and having to fight every single day for everything and argue with everyone and have people look down on me as though they were better than me....really tired of that last one. I just want to curl into a ball and sink into oblivion. It's really a dark place sometimes. I want to work on my "spiritual path" and try meditation but I don't know if I'll be able to muster up the energy to even get started (I wanted to start working out, too, but I haven't been able to, though I did start eating better and I have a lot more energy from that alone). I feel...too much. It's like I'm feeling everything, like I'm sunburned walking around and everything that touches me stirs up the deeper pain. All I do is sit here and feel, all day long, and it gets old. I hate it. I want my walls back.
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (suicidal)
I want to start by apologizing here. I told all of you that John was with Jessica when he and I were together and that Randy and Allison brought her over because they knew he wasn't happy with me. At the time, I believed this. I was operating under false information that has since proved unreliable, and I thought that person was trustworthy but have since learned that person is batshit crazy, and I think that person just THOUGHT John cheated on me and all that stuff so he/she TOLD me this and manufactured "proof" the way he/she logged into my Myspace profile and gave out my address. I believe Randy and Allison that they didn't do what they were accused of, and I believe John. I was hurt and wanting a reason to hate him, so I latched onto him. I am sorry for passing the info onto you as if it were true, it was wrong of me. If you all want to hate John, I can't stop you, but you don't know him (he doesn't even know himself) and He doesn't deserve to be hated for false accusations...but I just want to let you know that none of the info I was given is trustworthy anymore and...yeah. I believe my friends, and none of us is perfect but I trust them because through lots of yelling and saying things most people would only say behind each other's backs, I have come to believe that they are honest with me. So...yeah. I have needed to clear that up for awhile. I'm sorry for passing on false information here, and I hope you all can forgive me for acting like it was incontorvertable proof.

We have reached "There's no fucking way I can put this into words" territory. So...I'll just give an overview.

Made homemade chips and nacho stuff last night. Phear me and my mighty cooking skillz! And the stuff was delicious but there's no way I was going to be able to eat it all, so I brought it to John's at like, 12:30 Am. Everyone was hanging around drinking and they all liked the food. I got to learn more about John than I ever thought I'd know. And the talking was good. And the yelling was good, and the getting drunk (them, not me) was good. I have come to the realization that I will never understand anything (or that I will, and as in the past, it will cause me great pain because I'm feeling the pain of others). I don't know why I didn't realize that my newfound spiritual paths were going to cause me as much emotional empathetic pain as my Christianity did. I wish there were someone I could talk to about this, but I went over the list of everyone I know this morning, and none of them would understand...they might understand parts. I don't know. I wish Dani was here. :-p But...anyway. Yeah. I'm seeing things I couldn't see before when I was locked into my fundamentalist bubble. And it's a painful little bitch of a growing process (thanks for the WARNING, MArian Green) but it's good. Someday, I'll be really awesome and wise and it'll all be worth it.

So to recap...things are complicated, the pain of the world is deeper than most people could ever realize (expecially since they want to play "my past was worse than your past, my pain is worse than your pain), I love my friends, I feel a lot of pain for my friends, my past is deeper than I ever expected, the things I thought were expressions of demonic energy in my past weren't and I need to explore those experiences...I'm tired. And eating leftover nachos and enjoying the deliciousness. But I wanted to update because I'm nothing without my words. thanks for letting me splooge all over your friend's lists once again. I love you all.
edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (werk)
The REAL Update...no advice, please )

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edgarallenfrog

May 2009

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