It's Raining, it's Pouring

I've been super-depressed these past few days and real antsy. I've been getting some pretty nasty dreams too. It's bad enough that I wake up damning the sun and the day sometimes but to have my brain filled with images from bad dreams doesn't help, either. At least I finally took a nice, hot shower last night and shaved my legs. I love the way my legs feel against each other when they're freshly de-fuzzed, it makes sleeping all the better.

It's been raining outside and it's windy, perfect for hiding out and not feeling guilty about it. I mean when it's a beautiful day I feel like a freak stuck in my room, like some sort of eccentric people-hater but that's not how it is at all. I get really scared, really, PROFOUNDLY terrified. I want to do things right this time. I want to pursue a legitimate writing job and I also want to be my own boss. I'm going to write a letter to the editors of newspapers with samples of my writing and my interests. Frankly, I'm willing to do anything as long as I get my foot in the door. Our papers here in Winnipeg need something unique, something light, something like a writer who conducts social experiments, for example or something Carrie Bradshawish. But original. Gotta try doing it. It's now or never and anyways how long before someone actually goes crazy by not living an authentic life? I know I will if I don't and I don't know how I even maintained my sanity (or most of it) by living otherwise. I guess that's where the drug part comes in.

Super-bored tonight. Wish I had someone to play Scrabble with. Oh, God Angela stop feeling sorry for yourself and go watch some TV................

The Pathetic and the Profound

Today I came across two incredible you tube videos. I guess I'm gonna have to learn how to actually put them on the blog and make things easier. My dearest readers, if you're out there, tell me what you think about these two clips. One is a two year old smoking and I did not know whether to laugh, cry, or start swearing at the people watching this kid. I must admit, though, IT'S FUCKING HILARIOUS!!!!! The other is a clip from the Pretty Reckless (yeah, yeah, that chick from Gossip Girl--I never watched that show but this girl's got PASSION and what a voice on her!). The song is called "Make Me Wanna Die" and it's the acoustic version and it's YUMMY.

Anjelah Johnson

I found this really funny comedienne TOTALLY by accident on the internet and her name is Anjelah Johnson. She is hilarious and her imitations are perfection. Check her out and enjoy.............

Self-preservation

I woke up super early this morning as I have been sleeping a lot. Needless to say, I am very much caught up on my sleep and for the first time in a long time, I feel refreshed and (almost) ready to take on the world. I shall try my HARDEST to get through this hurdle because I know through past experience this is when my negative thinking takes over and I just give up. I staunchly refuse to do that this time. It's MORE than time for me to live authentically and to make the most of my gifts. It's time for me to stop doubting myself. Sylvia Plath even quoted that sef-doubt destroys creativity and how true her words are.

It was my little niece's birthday party on Sunday but I didn't attend. I apologized to my sister but I can't be around people, I feel so self-conscious. Being around kids freaks me out too because I miss my son so much. Truth be told, I've always had an anti-social side to me and it just seems to be getting worse. People really bore me sometimes, especially "mainstreamers". I have always felt like a total misfit and the only time I have felt comfortabe around people was when my boy and I used to go to functions together, probably because I was doing it for him and I knew that he'd enjoy himself because he's such an extrovert. I do have a very sociable side to me, too and I just LOVE meeting new people, but my trust in them has totally disappeared in the last few years. I refuse, however to become bitter, just a little bit cautious. Lastly, I simply cannot be around my mother under these types of circumstances. I know that she's not exactly proud of me and I could just see/feel her cringing when her friends approach me and ask me what I've been up to: "Oh, nothing much, just having a nervous breakdown for the last four (or has it been five
?) years, worked at a strip club for awhile before attempting to grab on to the pole and giving it a whirl myself while high on cocaine and jagshots, which led to my collapse because of severe anemia, resulting in my entering the methadone maintenance program. So, I've been stuck at my mom's, living off of disability checks from which my mother takes a chunk of because she loves money and makes me feel guilty for flushing the toilet too much because it wastes water. Yeah, I've also gained quite a bit of weight because I sleep a lot so I don't have to think about my life. So, how's Johnny's Master's program going at McGill and Anna's PHd in the States going? Congratulations also on Anna's engagement to a successful, educated Greek man with a beach house in Santorini............" You get the picture. The picture that never seems to change and it's ALWAYS about image, image, image and desperately trying to keep up with the Jonesopoulos'. I've been wary of this ever since I was a young girl and noticed the number of women fainting during Easter services because they were too vain to take off their fur coats. I realized that I could NEVER live under that pressure so in a way I hid from the church which looking back was a little immature because I'm sure not EVERYONE was like that. But growing up with a narcissistic mother, I wasn't about to take any chances.

Longing

I have had this TERRIBLE cold/flu for the last few days so alls I've been doing is drinking hot milk with sugar (of course) and sleeping--long, blissful sleep, the kind where when you wake up you're like a kid staring around, disoriented. At least my sleep has been nightmare--free and I haven't been waking up with the thought of hoping the day would go by quickly so I can go back to sleep again. For me, the night is comforting especially now that I'm on methadone and I can finally sleep. That's what I loved about opiates: the deep sleep they brought on, the blissful, trouble-free sleep. But, inevitably the sleep slowly became troubled until I couldn't sleep at all, no matter how many or what type of pills I took. The very comfort that I had been seeking all my life turned on me. But now, I sleep, soundly and like a child and hopefully not in vain. Hopefully, my body and my mind is restoring itself and I can bounce back, better than ever.

My ex-husband graced me with a phone call earlier on today, DRUNK of course, asking me OF ALL THINGS for Burton Cumming's phone number. Yeah, Burton from The Guess Who is from Winnipeg and a lot of people hang out with him here (Winnipeg's quite small) but as if he'd have his number listed and as if he'd go visit my ex-husband while on tour with his band there. Of course, stranger things have happened. Thankfully, he didn't call me back.

Now that I feel better I want to work on my blog full-force and begin my other one as well. That will take up a lot of my time as I have a lot of stories in my head that I am eager to share. I got a comment from this wonderful girl that writes about methadone too and it was exactly what I needed to get the ball rolling big time. Total encouragement. Plus, I found her blog to be interesting and very well written so I'm happy to add her on to my blog list. It's amazing to find others who are going through similar situations as me. For instance Mina writes about experiencing restless leg syndrome like it's the worst thing she's EVER experienced and you know what? It's the worst thing I've ever experienced and it's such a relief to get rid of it on methadone. Who has a year (if you could wait that long drug-free) to wait and see if the leg shakes/pains subside, if your sleep improves and if the days will go by any faster with less anxiety? Who wants to wake up every morning depressed, damning the day and yet feeling guilty at the same time because God has given you this life and you just can't handle it? Methadone is certainly a step in the right direction.

Also, people will tell you how zoned out you feel and how fat you get on it, etc., etc. but I feel as close to normal as I've ever had. Besides that, I highly doubt my brain would ever NOT need opiates after taking them for so many years. Yes, the brain heals but once you've tasted the sweetness of escape, of another way to live, I don't think your brain will ever allow you to forget it. It's almost like having a billion dollars and then losing it. Sad but true. Drugs became my saviour, my sanctuary. I definitely do not want to romanticize its use because it screws you at the end but I'd be a liar if I didn't admit that it makes life easier, especially at the beginning.

Apology

I am so sorry if anyone has tried to comment, I had the settings screwed up!!!!!!!!!! Hopefully now anyone who visits can make a comment as this would be GREATLY APPRECIATED. I am also starting a new blog, a little lighter, more entertaining but still substantial (I would hope--my dearest readers can only be the judge). I feel really sick, I am off to the drugstore and even though it's a beautiful summer day, I really want to organize my blogs as to make them more reader friendly and for me to not feel so alone as I get my shit together...............

My Heart, My Soul, My Life

I had such a TERRIBLE day--so glad I didn't take the first four or five months of being zoned out for granted. Now I have to decide what I want to do and what I really want to do is WRITE. I also want to get out in the world and experience a bit but I feel so very self-conscious right now and all's I want to do is hide out. Which is making me depressed. Plus I miss my little boy, it's like a knife to the heart, even when (not IF) I'm eventually with him, I'll never forget the pain, the pain, the never-ending excruciating pain.

I guess the time has come where, dearest readers, I must tell you the whole story..................

My Wreckage

It's 4 a.m. and I can't sleep. All's I do is cry and examine the wreckage that is my life. Nothing changes with me because I don't know how to change it. I need a miracle, a small one, not asking for much. I need validation and I need my son. I need to be my best self and I need my son. I need total independence and I need my son. Is anybody out there? I am so alone. I don't seek or ask for unreasonable pleasures, just to be independent and to be with my son. I need to take a chance and take this writing all the way because what else do I have left? I realize that we all have our struggles but mine seem so never-ending and I wonder what I am doing to stand in my own way. I guess I'll go drink some hot milk and try to get back to sleep, a sleep that is filled with confusion and the inevitable waking up and facing the wreckage that is my life................

Ready to Trip and Fall

I slipped a few days ago and I truly felt like crap. Alas, I forced myself to forgive the devil inside of me because I should actually feel proud of myself for how I have been doing since December. I highly doubt that I will ever do this again. As long as the methadone keeps working for me, I really see no way that I should screw up, because it's the opiates that ultimately give me the thrill and state of mind that I seek, all of that other junk is disgusting. I mean I really don't want to feel all wired up and on edge with a stomacheache and headache and a fucked up brain pushing me for "more". Also, if you're getting it free there's also a price to pay and that's one game I have never been good at. What am I left with at the end? A feeling of desperation and disappointment, a wildly beating heart, and a bad case of insomnia. NOT WORTH IT!!!!!

I haven't been getting along with my mother lately. She went straight for the jugular the other day just because I asked her to drive me to Shopper's for maxi pads. That woman is nuts. I've also had to deal with my ex-husband who was surely dropped on his head when he was a baby because I cannot explain this guy's behaviour otherwise. Drunk or not, the man's got deep problems. After being married, I can understand how people can hire someone to "off" the other person, especially if they don't fear the consequences.

At least I can skype my little boy now and I am in heaven because of this, it's truly been joyous! I cannot WAIT to parent him from up close once again (sounds kinda funny)--I love being a mommy. My heart still hurts being away from him but it's a teeny bit better now.

I'm supposed to go out with D this weekend. he's actually been calling me lately, except for the week he forgot he was to go to court and ended up in jail (I know, I know). I just don't know what to make of this guy. He owns his own roofing company and has a little boy but he still seems a tad immature. Right this moment, I really don't feel like starting to see anyone but I get so lonely. What would really make me happy (besided the obvious of having my son with me) is to have a writing career. I really need to have some sort of encouragement such as an editor saying they like my work or something like that. My heart just hurts so badly that I haven't done all of the creative things that I have always craved to do from a young age and it's really bringing me down lately. The last thing I want to do is get depressed. I JUST WANT SOMETHING GOOD TO HAPPEN TO ME!!!!! I know only I have the power to make it happen but I just get so down on myself and overwhelmed and then just tired, so exhausted.

Irony

I was looking through the paper, like I do each morning and apparently all of those people/gang members that they arrested before Christmas are starting to come before the courts. Very scary because I know some of them from waitressing at the strip club and not only did I used to buy from them, I used to sell, too. For example, if someone at the club felt comfortable asking me then I would "middleman" for him, go to the dealer and get him the stuff. This way, I could get some extra stuff for myself from the dealer if I helped him enough times throughout the night. Also, I would charge the customer a little more for "stuff" and keep the extra money for myself if I was running low on tips. No one complained or seemed to notice because they were so spaced out anyway. It really wasn't me to a) be involved in shit like that and b) to rip people off but seeing as I had a little habit to maintain myself I needed to do something to have some cash at the end of the night. Plus, I hate to admit this but I felt so badass being involved, it was like a little experience/experiment of mine. Thank God I didn't get caught. I always used my instincts when dealing with strangers and thankfully understood that being high didn't entitle me to be so overly confident. At the end, I was one of those girls that I swore I'd never be, going home at the end of the night super high but just barely making my float. I knew my days at the club were numbered but I didn't give a shit, it was as if my whole time working there was an F-YOU to the whole world, I could do whatever I want, so ha ha. But alas, the joke was on me as I was fired from my job and it was downhill from there. A few months later, all those guys were arrested and I was at home recovering, after a lengthy detox. It was the first time my mom honestly came through for me and I will never forget that. She saved my life just as I blame her for ruining it.

Modern Technology, Old-Fashioned Tears

It's been awhile, my dearest readers but I was in serious "thinking mode", trying to figure out my next step and planning for the near future. My mother and I got into a terrible fight, the kind where she lets loose and insults me to the bone. When she gets this way, I'm pretty certain that I have post-traumatic stress syndrome because I get "locked" into what seems to be an invisible "cell" and all's I can think about is how trapped I am, like a caged animal. I get this voice inside of my head screaming for me to run as far as I can away from her and to never return. It's a terrible way to feel and it never ceases to devastate me whenever it happens. I feel such hatred toward my mother at that moment but the only thing I can think of is causing harm and destruction to myself.

I bought a webcam and I have been able to communicate with my son. It was really sad at first and I couldn't stop crying but then those tears turned to joy as I realized how lucky I am to be able to communicate with my son this way. I have never felt closer to him, EVER. The other day, though, my useless ass of an ex-husband gets drunk and starts telling my little boy how I receive a monthly child tax credit in Canada for him and spend it all on myself. What a tool this guy is, what a lowlife. Many times I have felt guilty talking badly about him because he is, after all, my son's father but this person is the epitome of the word useless. Of course my little boy was upset too and he informed me that if I didn't come to Greece and stay with him in two weeks he'll never talk to me again. Man, I gotta get a grip. I need to get this situation under control. I NEVER want to cause this child any pain if I could help it.

It's raining outside and it just won't let up. At least I'm feeling loads better, much more energetic and hopeful for the future. I do have my moments of frustration and fucking boredom because frankly, I want to be independent, have money and ultimately this will lead me to reunite with my son. I feel safe in my room, my little "bubble" but I need to figure out a way to be my own person, once and for all.

I missed a counselling session I had this afternoon but I think I'll reschedule for next week. Every time I talk to someone outside of my situation I always feel better and they don't look at me like I have three heads, like my mother does. Am I lazy? Maybe down deep inside I think that I don't deserve to be understood, that I don't deserve happiness. Maybe I'm so afraid of failure and rejection and that is why I merely "dip my toes" into whatever excites me, because why bother, I'll fail anyways. Sad, really. To live your life in fear and to avoid risks, to play it safe and be miserable, to be super-creative and bursting with energy but to purposely calm yourself into a semi-catatonic state for fear of looking stupid, for wasting your time, for having others tell you "I told you so". I must stop hurting myself NOW. What kind of an example am I going to be to my son, who I am teaching to be brave and full of expression?