Sunday, September 26, 2010


Just over 2 and a half years ago, I took two weeks off of work to lock myself in my house and figure out, once and for all, if I wanted to continue living or not.

After much deliberation over those two weeks and doing all the things I loved to do like meditating, yoga, singing, dancing, playing my guitar and drums and didgeridoo...reading, writing, watching my favourite movies and eating all my favourite foods...even taking a full day to be drunk on red wine and the next day to be completely stoned on weed and then the next day being really sketched out on some crappy cocaine...I painted and tried to celebrate life and being alive, but no matter how hard I tried, no matter how many things i turned to, to try and find satisfaction and love and hope in this eerie sadness and an inescapable pointlessness pervaded all my senses, rendering me completely useless, joyless and despondent. nothing mattered, there was no point to anything, we are all going to die anyways so why not make my death a conscious choice?

I could see no reason in carrying on with this exhausting, boring, irritating thing called life. So on the 15th day, upon waking, I made the decision to end my life. Of course, I needed a plan, a plan that wouldn't fail. How should I die? What type of death would best suit my needs? I didn't want to burden anyone with a messy clean up although even my body rotting away seemed like such a burden to the unlucky soul that should find it.

slitting my wrists seemed like the way to go for me, i always loved having long baths and i thought it empowering to be able to watch my life drain out of my really be present for it all ...awareness and lucidity in death, instead of seemed 'right' for

i got online and decided to do some research into the best and most comfortable and pain free ways of committing suicide. After all, I was sure I saw in a movie some where that you have to slice the wrists in a certain manner to ensure death...but i wasn't entirely sure. Internet to the rescue!

However, I was shocked to find out that 99% of people who slit their wrists DON'T die. It takes an aweful long time and the weak feeling that is akin to hunger, that last for so many hours, didn't appeal to me at all and i wiped my brow with a huge 'whew' that was close...glad i didn't choose that option.

cause i don't know about you, but it would be pretty aweful to try and kill yourself and then end up failing and waking up with even more problems than what you initially had

i was in an information frenzy...and i couldn't believe all the websites and groups out there that support a persons right to choose to live or not. organizations with huge documents describing precisely how to 'off' yourself with the least amount of trouble, pain and burden on yourself and others. Groups like The Church Of Euthanasia (whose 'four pillars' are suicide, abortion, cannabalism and sodomy: sounds like a church to me),  The Voluntary Human Extinction Movement,  Assisted Suicide, Ergo, and of course, Satan's services and Satan's services a practical guide to suicide I found this to be the most helpful guide out there to really get get informed about everything to do with suicide. It's a morbid read with all the ways in which you can kill yourself but still very informative, especially if you are looking to help prevent a friend from committing suicide or need to understand why or how the behaviour takes place. If anything, i found that after reading this guide it triggered the reality that i probably won't succeed at killing myself which was a wake up call in and of itself.

I couldn't believe that people were actually turning a profit with books like final exit, the peaceful pill handbook and even an organization that sells 'exit bags' for a meare $50 (sarcasm intended) i mean basically it's a plastic bag with an elastic band over the end so you can suffocate yourself successfully. Don't get me wrong, I am not against suicide...if it's done in a responsible way not because you are trying to get back at someone or escape debt or anything like that...but if you are truly suffering and you have made a conscious, deliberate choice then I feel that's fair if that's what someone wants to do with their life.

I had settled on two different ways to achieve my ultimate goal...the most appealing was an overdose of heroin..I used to use it (the synthetic versions of the drug) when i was a dancer once upon a time ago and i always had a love for the euphoria and relaxation it gave me ...even back then i used to think, when i die, this is the way i want to go.

The second option included my love of floating and water and so i thought i could wait until late at night (preferably with a full moon and a cloudless night so I could look up at the stars while I waited to die...i am such a romantic huh? cue the music from titanic) and swim out far into the ocean until i got so tired and then allow for myself to drown...i wondered how long that would take...

i had drown once before when i was 16 at a party in a friends pool when i was tripping out hard on a few hits of acid ...i remember the feeling to be so peaceful and i felt like i was in my mothers womb completely one with everything and totally free and happy...i don't know if the drowning or the drugs caused this reaction but i always felt ripped off when i was recussitated as though i was taken away from the only peace i had ever know in this if i was born into suffering not just once at the time of birth but twice....i felt sad for weeks over this loss of freedom, over the life that was still in tact.

still searching the internet, I  began to think and wonder about death and what if it wasn't final? I was for all intents and purposes, an atheist at that time but i still worried what if hell is real and i am exchanging this amazing life of mine for a shitty torture filled one? would I join hitler and bombers and rapists in the depths of hell for an eternity of torture?

Worse than hell, I thought what about Karma...there is something that I do believe what if i come back as a third world country child sex slave or worse yet, a scientologist?

Or maybe i will just be reborn as myself again, forced to live out this life again just like that movie groundhog day only i would have to start from day one and go through it all over like a bad movie that you just can't leave. all that pain and boredom and bullshit...all the suffering and unhappiness with my childhood and my mother...would i have to endure that again? Maybe that's why i have so many instances of deja vu? cause i have already killed myself in my past and keep coming back going through it over and over and over till i finally push through?

all of these 'consequences' and fear of the unknown started to gnaw away at me...the big WHAT IF suddenly scared the hell right out of me. I wanted to say fuck you to that fear but the unknown is a tricky little fucker ...and the truth is, we don't know what's on the other side and we don't know if there is a heaven or hell or if there are consequences for your actions in this life...everything is suspect...everything that anyone believes in this life about all that shit is really just a theory, just a myth...and i didn't know what to believe anymore.

I delved deeper into the internet and found threads and forums of other suicidal people who had no one to say goodbye to so they just posted their suicide notes so that they could connect and say goodbye to someone, anyone...and that's when i got emotional and actually started to cry as i read these fairwell letters.

mostly the letters were the same underlying message...the people writing them felt disconnected, fed up with life and suffering and BELIEVED they were not good enough to have friends and family...they isolated themselves and essentially built a tiny prison out of all their negative thoughts...effectively hypnotizing themselves into believing in all the bad they thought about themselves...there were so many notes that i felt were exactly what i was thinking and feeling and i couldn't believe how many others there were going through the same feelings of despondency, joylessness, pointlessness for no particular reason...and here i thought i was the only one...

i wanted to reach out and befriend them all but i already knew most of them had taken their lives and all i felt was the loss over that. and i cried in that moment with my whole heart...i cried over the fact that there are so many out there who just want to love and be loved...unconditionally, and yet cannot find this acceptance they are looking for. I cried with an intensity i hadn't felt in a very long if my very life depended on if their lives depended on it.

i found a site of failed suicidals who spoke openly of their need to die but the attempts (some 5 or more times) were always unsuccessful leaving them with so many problems, like the inability to move the hands or fingers after failed slicing of wrists...the permanent dialysis due to kidney failure from an overdose of prescription drugs, liver damage, wheelchairs, blindnesses, you name it, these people had it ...all self induced. they went from being healthy and unhappy to being severly unhealthy and unhappy and also feeling like an even bigger loser than before because they failed...even in death they failed!

but reading these suicide failures really brought out their humourous side and they were using self depricating humour to get through the pain of it and i couldn't help but know, that full belly laugh that massages you to your very soul leaving you all glowy and warm after wards? I remember thinking holy fuck...these people really fucked up! This is rediculous! They went from being unhappy cause of depressed thoughts to not being able to wipe their own ass for the rest of their that is Karma ! And somehow their failure made me laugh cause it seemed so silly. I think the laughter also came as a relief that i was glad it wasn't me...all of a sudden a creative surge came through me and i started writing a book that was full of funny things ...i felt alive and creative and joyous and my heart leaped with excitement over this wonderful idea i had for a book. And i couldn't stop laughing and writing and feeling completely present and in the moment. My whole body was alive and i was filled with joy and wonder as i wrote for 12 straight if something inside of me released and woke up.

This laughter sparked something in me...and made me want to carry on just for a little while longer to see what the next thing will be that makes me laugh or creates that creative spark that makes me feel alive. I gave myself permission to 'pull the plug' whenever i choose to...and in doing so, i gave myself the freedom that i have always longed for to do whatever i want and need to do in this life...once you face your own death there can be no more fear only the ability to move forward and seeking truth and find reasons to carry on...
like creativity and laughter...those are my two greatest joys in life ;o)

I still go through the boredom and feelings of pointlessness and sometimes i slip back into suicidal thoughts from time to time...but now there is a curiosity about the thoughts and where they come from that was never there before...the knowledge that i have given myself permission to die at any time, gives me the freedom to stick around and see what this life is all about.

So, if you are hurting or ever thought about this because you feel alone in your suffering or feel that no one loves you or can accept you for who you are...know that I am here for you. I accept you unconditionally...You can contact me and we can chat anytime. I am not a professional but I do have a lot of experience in this particular area (personally speaking) and can be a really good listener. Hey, everybody needs somebody! There must be a reason that I went all through all that shit just to still be here...maybe that reason is to be a friend to you and help you???
I am not judgemental when it comes to this the end, it's your choice but i have found a lot of ways to keep going, to stay motivated to live maybe we could help each other out.
Thanks for reading and understanding everyone!

Monday, July 19, 2010

FuCk YoU

Sometimes when I look around at my life, I, I should be feeling so blessed and sometimes I do muster up some gratitude but then I look down at the sight that is my body, and the negative balance in my bank account and the number of years that I have lived with this depression and think....fuck you GOD!

You are the douche bag that gave me no motivation to change any of give me just enough energy to get out of bed in the morning to take a crap and then go back to bed and worry about how I have no more energy to do the things that need to get done as tension and apprehension flood my every cell.

Thanks God! Good thing I don't actually believe in you.. very often... or you and me would have it out man-o et woman-o for some head to head Trish vs God ultimate fighting championship
i know you are supposed to be all omnipotent and shit and I know I couldn't possibly win, but i would still give you a show down biatch, a run for your money....cause fuck you that's why

You don't exist yet I still blame you...cause I can't even be bothered to try to muster up the courage to blame myself for my lack of energy and enthusiasm....people always say that if they could do it all over again, with the knowledge they have now, they would...i say fuck that shit...after almost 32 years of this shit...i have seen and heard give me some fucking energy to finish living this life I am supposed to live and let me find a basket full of child-like wonder and enthusiasm at the end of some fucking rainbow and we will call it a truce ok?

The fact that I just wrote this letter to you, shows how badly I have failed as an atheist...guess everyone needs someone to blame for their short comings...and you are the only one left to to be you...and it sucks to be me, except when it doesn't and then it's not so bad
What was the point of this letter again?


Saturday, May 29, 2010

I Am All Grown Up, Now What?

I seem to be having an existential crisis today. Questions keep popping up into my brain. Questions like, who am I? Where do I want to be in 5 years from now? What do I want to be when I grow up?

Ah, but I am all grown up and here in lies the problem.

I am 31 and I still don’t know what it is that I want. How can this be? When I was finishing high school, I envied those who knew what they wanted to study next, cause I sure as hell didn’t know what I wanted to be…I thought it was just a phase, I told myself to just get to work and the mystery will unveil itself.

I took lots of jobs and did the bare minimum really, just enough to make ends meet, sometimes, if I felt inspired, maybe a little more than the bare minimum. I figured it was a by-product of being in my 20’s. I went to school for various things, I had lots of ideas and plans that I followed through on till I got bored and realized that it wasn’t for me.

Fuck, I really squandered my 20’s away. Until that last year 29 when I gave it my all and got my business off the ground, worked like a dog and actually made it work somehow…only to realize that it was again not what I wanted, I felt like I was exchanging one mask for another yet again.  I didn’t want to be married to anyone let alone a fucking job!

I ran away to Thailand, convinced I needed more education in my field of business….but upon completion of the gruelling regimented 6 months of training, instead of opening up the school and going about the plans I had put into place, I put the brakes on again and did even less than the bare minimum to get by. Sleeping most of the day away, lost in a zombified version of myself…while pretending to live and going through the motions of eating and loving and really, working as little as possible and stilll complaining about it.

At 31, I am officially retired for a year and a half…which means, although I have a little money (enough to take this time off) at the end of this time, I will be penniless, jobless, carless, homeless, nothing but a few boxes of stored things and the luggage I bring back to Canada with me…I will have nothing! Weird, only 5 years ago, I had everything….and I felt the same as I do now…only with more stuff…I attributed the shitty feelings to having too much stuff and it was tying me down and ruining my life.

What is life? WHo am I, really?

I want to say that I should be grateful for the life I have been given and that I should show my gratitude by doing something fabulous with it but on the flip side, what’s the point? I mean, if I smoke or don’t smoke, if I am skinny or fat, if I win a fucking Oscar or I am a bum on the street, in the long run, it doesn’t matter!

Everything is Arbitrary! But living in this type of manner is really fucked up…cause it’s neither here nor there, not this or that…it’s an ambiguous mind fuck that leaves one with the feeling that one is endlessly chasing it’s own tail.  Leaving one exhausted and gasping for breath …with that all consuming question still lingering on the lips …what’s the point?

I used to walk through grave yards when I felt down…I would read the tombstones and cry over flowers that had been left, the notes people left to their loved ones, the saying ‘gone but not forgotten’ touches me so, dead flowers on top of living grass that hides the dead people buried below was some morbid type of poetry that somehow infused me with life, with feeling, with real emotion.

the park bench that is dedicated to a dead married couple that lived and breathed love…it’s a nice notion to read the inscriptions, it’s wonderfully romantic even…cause once you die, no one would put a tombstone that says here lies a dead beat mother who beat me all time…no they would say here lies a wonderful mother and we will miss her so …even in death, no one speaks the truth.

I went to a funeral once, for a man I never met but heard about. He was an asshole who abandoned his children, stole from everyone he knew and was a mean alcoholic who died at the age of 50 from alcohol poisoning. Even though I never met him, I cried so much, because there wasn’t much to say about this guy, the service was super short i mean what can you say about a homeless alcoholic without embellishing too much? I thought of the life he could of lead and where did he go wrong and how sad that he died with nothing…but then, you always die with nothing even if you have made something of yourself and you have everything, it’s still nothing. So, he could be me, maybe he realized this too and that’s why he gave up because of the pointlessness of it all, why bother to try and be good and be straight and sober? Who fucking cares? I totally get it!

Yet all of it makes me sad cause these people who were mothers fathers dr’s heros lovers, friends, junkies, assholes, con artists, no matter what kind of life they lead, it ended …so when people talk to me about long term goals I think fuck, why are we thinking about 10 years from now, how about the reality of 100 years from now when none of this shit matters, none of it! The majority of us won’t even be remembered in 100 years from now save for an inscription on a slab of rock where our corpses rot and become fodder for the bugs.

Sometimes, flashes of inspiration lifts me out of this deep inertia that I float in constantly. Like earlier when I got inspired to revamp my diet and exercise regime (which is pretty grim these days) because maybe getting a svelt body and eating organic healthy food, will make life more liveable? Or how a few days ago, I actually put up an online dating profile so I could take charge and find the love that I so deeply crave and therefore be fulfilled and live happily ever after. Or the compulsion I felt a couple of hours ago to really give it a go and follow my dreams no matter what because then I will have meaning and meaning will make me want to live a better life right? It has to make me happy right?

No! NO! and NO! This is not true…memories of getting my body skinny and fit to where I was proud of it, flash through my mind but I still felt the same as I do now. Yes, I have lived exclusively on a vegetarian organic diet but that just gave me more energy with which to plunge deeper into these types of thinking…I have been loved and loved another but still that hollowed out feeling remained, like there was something missing, something that I was incapable of grasping, of finding , of obtaining…a hole of insatiable hunger as if my very soul were the tapeworm itself eating through the love, the joy, the sustenance that life provides me.
I have followed my dreams and fulfilled them but they didn’t fulfill me back.

I have scoured the earth and have come back with nothing but shards of glass embedded in my body, reminders of the pain that fulfilling something that brings no fulfillment brings. An empty hole, a vacuum, I seek, I pray, I breathe, I keep living with the hopes that something will satisfy, that everything will stop cutting me and something will start healing me.

I don’t even know what I am writing right now, I don’t really have a point or anything to say, just the compulsion to keep my fingers moving, to put words onto the page. Secretly I think that one of these days I will reveal to myself, through stream of consciousness writing, the true secret to the point of my life, to the point of your life…

Hmmm, doesn’t look like that secret is going to reveal itself today…

Saturday, May 8, 2010

mothers day blues

Blhuck! That's the definition of my evening tonight. I feel totally uninspired so of course, I feel the need to put this lack of inspiration into words and immortalize the vomit that is coming out from every cell right now...seriously, it would put Linda Blare to shame!

It's so nasty (this feeling) that I don't even want to write about it, but maybe this is like inducing the grossness out of me so i will feel all fresh and clean in the morning...maybe some massengil is in order for my corrupted spirits...that oh not so fresh kind of feeling.

I am racking my brain to figure out what went wrong, how did this happen? I was feeling good yesterday after a great night out with a friend and no anxiety set backs which was relieving...i had some pretty good pizza (which is the best you can get in Thailand), i felt joy joy feelings when i got home and they lingered long after I went to sleep. So what then snagged me?

My jaw has been tight with tension all day it's like i am trying to crush my back molars into a million pieces by the sheer force of my clenching!

This fucking post sucks cause I can't think somehow. it's like i am studdering at the keyboard trying to define the indefinable yet i feel compelled to keep trying cause at least typing doesn't make me wanna die.
it's always these thoughts about the future and the (as my friend puts it) 'nihilistic tendencies' start to kick in.
The thought process most of the day, man, my teeth are sensitive i should get some toothpaste with floride cause i stopped using floride a while back cause i had determined from google that my Pineal gland must be screwed up and 'calcified' from all the floride i put into my body and that must be whats causing all the depression...but when i switched, i didn't feel any better, actually, i feel worse, and now i have sensitive teeth to time to go back to what i know! pfftt is everything a lie?

then the thoughts about me getting old lady sagging bingo wings and grey hairs kicked in and i felt holy fuck i can't believe i am not going to be young forever like i thought i would be as a kid...i truly believed that if i just ate right and lived 'right' that i could beat this aging thing...i assumed it must of been a fundamental flaw on everyone elses fault through poor lifestyle choices and i would show them cause i was invincible but i can now admit that i am not. but now i see things that i don't like in myself....not that i ever liked anything about myself anyways. but looking in the mirror this afternoon definately had an impact on how emo got through the door again.
operation fuck trish up the ass with no lube and leave her for dead, emotionally speaking of course.
so, then i project the image i see now and i imagine the old lady i will be like next week and i am all noooooo make it stop cause i don't wanna be a blue haired ...i was hot and men paid me money to take my clothes off for them...that was only a few short years ago and now look at me...ewww they would pay me to keep my clothes on...stripping is sexy in your 20's i guess....30's  so so and 40's no no...i always said i would get out of it before i was 30 and i did, clean and sober...that's a remarkable feat in and of itself but i never seem to be able to give myself credit when it comes to the amazing things i have over come in my life.

Like a year long cocaine addiction, a really brutal perk addiction that had me in agony for a week while i shivered and shook from the withdrawls....a really fucking horrible gambling addiction that left me almost destitute and in debt to biker gangs....with the juice at $200 a week it was nearly impossible to get that debt down.
i have recovered from a tortured past and a mother who cares only of herself....wait a minute, hold the phone...this is what's bugging me!
this nagging feeling...
wow, my heart is so heavy right now ...maybe cause it's mothers day and that's all i hear about all these love letters to moms that i read on the blogs of others is depressing cause i want to be able to say that to my mom...i want to say thanks mom for being there for me or for enriching my life in some way or for caring and sacrificing.

and all this shit comes up all the time about all day i have  been thinking oh yeah it's been like 2 years since i last spoke to her and then all i feel is this little girl who desperately wants mommy to love her and pay some attention to her but mommy can't cause she's off whoring around for an entire month.

i think i have gotten over it...i think i have gotten over the abuse and being taken away from her at 5 cause she saw snakes coming out of my head and wanted to kill me...i think i have gotten over the fact that after nearly a year a part she was finally given permission to take me on a two week vacation on my 6th birthday so we could spend quality time together but instead she left me in the care of a complete stranger who repeatedly molested me while she was out with her boyfriend cause it's totally appropriate to leave a little girl all alone with a strange single 40 something year old man....
i think i have gotten over the fact that because she said she would kill anyone who hurt me, i didn't want her to go to jail and so i didn't tell anyone what happened cause i didn't want to see less of her than i already was
i think i have gotten over the fact that because of this, the guy got off scott free cause i waited and there was no evidence to support my claim even after embarrassing examinations that made me freak the fuck out and then the testimonies i had to give in court in front of the guy who did it and a whole room full of strangers...
  i think i have gotten over it that she told me i should of been an abortion and l am ugly, i think i have gotten over it that she made me feel worthless and useless and limp ...totally dependent upon her showing up out of the blue...waiting for weeks and then oh wow, mommy's here drop everything and love her cause she  has arrived...

i think i have gotten over it...all the times she kicked me when i was down so she could feel all mighty and powerful and better than me...all the times she gave me shitty advice on purpose so that she could be the winner...
i think i have gotten over praying every night in the dark for my mom to love me like i saw on feel wanted and needed not just for her own selfish gain....
i think i am over it that she tossed me and my other brother to the curb while she went and made a family of her own 10 years later....i think i am over it that she threw away all my stuff when i was 14 and lived with her briefly for 6 months before running away cause i couldn't take it anymore...leaving me with nothing but a small napsack of clothes....i think i am over it that she thinks i am the sole root of her problem....

i think i am over the fact that i just want my mommy...the idealized version of what she shows me to get her manipulate rope me in so that she just cut me deeper again.

i think i am over it that she had me at 17 and didn't know what to do with me and treated me like i was her animal... i think i am over all of that....cause i am a strong independent woman now who can just suck it up right? but then there's days like today when i know i am not over it cause in order for mommy to love me, i can never talk about the past and i must pretend that all is well and nothing bad ever say anything would put me back in mommy hates me land and the agony of that is just too much...

so now i just don't talk to mommy anymore and it's fucking sad...cause she is still a 16 year old girl trapped in a 48 year olds body and will never grow up i knew it when i reunited again with her a few years back after many years apart ...i was shocked to see that i was wiser and more mature than her and i was floored how can this be?

...and yet on this day on mothers day when all the sentimentality comes out to play, i try not to feel the big gaping void of where i exiled my mother from a hole so deep and black you could see it from outer space ...i try to numb myself but all i feel is how sad she must feel that none of her kids call her or try to contact her especially on mothers day....and it pisses me off cause fuck her! why the fuck should i feel guilty and sad that no one loves you on mothers day cause when did you ever love me????

 when did you ever sacrifice when it wasn't for you own selfishness? when did you ever really love me or take care of me? i am sorry for ruining you childhood but i didn't ask to be born...and yet here i am locking myself away to make sure i don't get hurt by you again and all i can do is feel the compulsion to call you so you don't feel lonely, so you don't feel unloved???? FUCK! i want to be strong and maybe even gloat that ha ha you finally got what you deserved 4 kids and not one phone does it feel bitch, how does it feel to have everyone hate you and not love you and not care about you...and although i think these thoughts, that's not what i really feel i guess i am just not good at being vindictive like you are

for once can't it be about me and not you? for once can't i just let go and feel satisfied with my decision to divorce you from my life? sometimes i panic and think oh fuck but what if she dies and then i have no mommy and i think of how i would feel at your funeral and i like to think i wouldn't even go and i would feel nonchalent about it all like ah well, everyone dies anyways so whats the big deal...but then i know the truth deep down i would suffer and long for things to work itself out for us to work out our differences for you to say just once that you are proud of me and really mean it with out being jealous of me....for you to be a fucking mom to me for once in your life instead of some selfish little teenage girl....

how can i wish you a happy mothers day when i don't even feel like you deserve the title mother? yes, you spit me out of your womb ...but only as a leverage to get back at your own mom...what the fuck...and it stayed like that forever!
and now i write with tears streaming down my face and a hiccup in my heart  and a huge baseball in my throat and i feel better cause i finally admitted that this is what brought me down...i didn't want to think about you!  i tried to push you out of my mind, i didn't want to care or feel or hurt anymore over you and your selfish ways and now i am afraid to publish this on the off chance that you will see it and somehow revoke more of your love away from me as if that's possible...
and yet, that's my biggest fear in life...don't piss you off, don't say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing...don't disagree with you cause then you won't love me's no wonder i can't have a stable relationship i only know conditional love and whenever a man has showed me unconditional love, (which has only been once by my count) i think it's a scam, a gimmick and there must be some ulterior motive and then i squish  the relationship like a mosquito but slowly so he feels the pain cause that's what i learned love is! and yet, i know that's not what it is's not 'i will love you but only if you act this way and look this way and make me happy by doing this and that....'
ah  fuck it...i wish i didn't care what you think but for some reason in the back of my brain, when i allow myself to think about you...i know that i do care .... so know that even though you are a fuck up, i forgive you of our past together but forgiveness doesn't mean getting over it ...nope, that takes even though i won't say this to your face, i will say it here in spirit, cause i know none of the others will...happy mothers day there's still a part of me that loves you...

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

What's the point?

I needed a blog to get away from my blog. You know, the other blog is fine, it's funny and all and I like to be funny but that's not the norm for me.

so, I created this page to vent and scribble about anything...there's no theme, there's no reason, it's not to make me or you laugh or cry i am not trying to do anything with just is what it is.

So that's my intention for this of consciousness writing. hopefully no one reads it, i am not going to network it or advertise it just write on it and if you stumble upon it...God help you... cause spelling will be off, punctuation will be will probably be just one long run on sentence about absolutely fucking nothing... my brain thinks in one long run on sentence so why not write in that manner too?

All right so what the fuck am I doing with my god damn life? I am sitting in a bungalow in Thailand lamenting about the fact that I hate living cause what's the point of anything anyways?

Truly, I have what most would think a great life; I have barely worked in the last few years, money comes to me pretty easily, I have decided to take a year and a half off to live here in Thailand and follow my dreams of writing a novel, i don't have any kids, i have never been married, i have no debt to worry about, i don't even have family that cares about me to keep in contact with me or try to fuck with my life...i don't have any baggage, I am free to be myself, to find my truth and speak it...I don't have to do anything if that's what i choose to do...i have no responsibilities, no job to answer to, NO ONE , NOTHING...

to me this is the ideal life, the perfect life...I 'should' be happy, I should be grateful but I am not! I fucking hate living, I fucking hate life and even going to the bathroom is a chore for me....I think no matter how great life is still fucking sucks dirty ass!

I am good at everything but choose to do nothing cause i am a lazy, inconsistent biatch who gives up easily cause i am always reminded about the fact that i am gonna die and so are you and everything ends and nothing matters so why even bother? why even try?

That's the story of my life...i have felt like that since i was a little girl...and it is debilitating for sure! i remember feeling this as young as 5 years old!
I have tried everything to feel 'better', drugs, sex, booze, binge eating, binge fucking, being in love, supporting a cause, becoming a vegetarian, smoking, quitting smoking, natural remedies, unnatural remedies (like urine therapy what the fuck was i thinking), yoga, meditation, being kind, being a bitch, emaciating the ego, inflating the ego...i have tried to buy happiness and serenity, bargain with it, coherce it...nothing fucking's as if my default programming is set to; 'i hate everything and nothing matters' even if i try and am excited, eventually the default programming comes along and kicks my fucking ass back into this bullshit way of thinking.

Sometimes, actually most times, I think that what I feel is real and everyone else is putting on a show to pretend that life is peachy keen and i fucking hate them.

I see through their facade and i wonder how they can live with themselves in their little bubble of pretentiousness and then i wonder how in the fuck i am still a part of this goddamn world and why do i continue to play this stupid fucking game! it's no wonder i have turned into an agoraphobic shut in...i can't stand to even talk to real people.

The other day i was getting my hair cut by a friend and that should be a normal thing to do ...there is no reason to feel anxiety and yet all of a sudden my friend was talking about something and i realized, i didn't give a shit about what she was saying and i wished for her to stop and it hit me square in the jaw...why am i pretending to care? how long before she is finished with the fucking haircut already? shut up! shut up! shut up! I screamed in my head until i couldn't even hear her anymore.

I started to sweat, my throat went dry, everything felt like it became two sizes too big and i became three sizes too small, my heart was racing, i couldn't think, fuck how much longer, i am trapped! only half my hair is done, can't i just run away, tell her a lie, say i am sick, i don't want to be here anymore, i will feel better once i get home.

I have to listen to her go on and on and what if it never ends? i can't escape, oh fuck help me! i stopped her mid sentence cause i felt like all my fucking cells were having some sort of aneurism all at the same i politely asked for a glass of water but what actually was screaming through my head was ...what is wrong with me? Why do I always feel like this around people?

GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE and go home's like my brain is the House from the Amityville Horror movie...shes a really nice girl and i do enjoy her company...yet i get like this around every single person i know or talk to for any length of time.

It's a hyperawareness that sets me to spin out of control for reasons i am not sure of. And even if i did know, i don't think that would help.

i can't be in a relationship because of this shit that runs around in my head..i can't maintain or sustain friendships that are really wonderful because of this crazy shit that i can't stand to hear in my head.

i have always had these issues but they became amplified when i was 16 and i took some bad acid and for almost a year i wasn't the same...actually, come to think of it, maybe i never have been the 16 years old, i could spend weeks in bed without ever wanting to leave fact i did spend two weeks in bed and almost every weekend pretending to be seriously sick just so i wouldn't have to leave the house...i had flash backs for well over a year and couldn't stand certain lighting or enclosed spaces...i couldn't even go out to dinner or a movie with anyone cause being in a public place made me feel trapped and very much like a fucking rabbit needing to flee at the first sign of danger and for some reason, everything was perceived as dangerous to me...even 'fun' things.

i remember one incident in particular; i was with a friend at red lobster everything was going fine we were laughing and joking and there were no weird lulls in the conversation...i loved this woman she was like how i wished my mother really was; caring, loving, compassionate, smart, beautiful, and most importantly, she loved me.....

so in the middle of all this fun we are having, all of a sudden it's like a static happens and i can't hear her anymore... all i hear is every single noise around me all at once, yet i can't make anything out...everything is fragmented like listening to stravinsky's music without knowing the theory behind's annoying and doesn't make any sense.

i hear the sound of the conversation at the table next to us, it's intensified like someone turned the volume of the room up to beyond the max capacity...complete distortion!

everyone is talking about useless shit all at the same time like bees buzzing, a drone that is driving me crazy...the noise pollution is unbearable!

i can hear the fucking annoying goddamn baby crying in the back ground, the lobsters scratching at the glass wishing to be free, the waiters complaining about the shitty tippers, the woman in the bathroom taking a shit, the man in the bathroom doing lines, the man in the stall next to him stroking his dick, the four fat bitches AT the other end of the restaurant gossiping about celebrities they have never met nor will ever meet, i can hear the cooks chopping and singing, the rat traps trapping, the mice scurrying, the cockroaches mating, the crickets outside of the restaurant happily chirping away, the cars passing on the street, i even hear the hum of the electricity that lights the entire place! I am aware of all of it all at the same time!

And then, just as i think my ear drums will explode from the tremendousness of it all.


Silent mouths moving, silent plates being dropped, silent tears of agony streaming down that asshole kids face, silent laughter coming from the woman i wished was my mom.

Everything crystallizes ...lines are sharper as if someone had just solidified etchings from pencil to black marker on a canvas and added colour to it all and i just noticed it for the first time.

everything is panoramic and elongated and enlarged ...a characature of unfunny parody that frightens the shit out of me ...terrible feeings turn into some sort of morphed clarity that only i can decypher yet am unable.

a feeling of separateness engulfs me, i don't fit in, never did, never will, why am i pretending to then? i am an alien in my own skin, i can't feel, can't hear, can't smell, can't see properly as if looking through a peephole the wrong way around. in fact, it feels like I am the peephole, a lucid peephole just witnessing it all with a surreal quality that maybe i don't even exist and neither do you.

I am staring at the worlds largest Clownsuit that spans this entire universe and everyone in it yet they don't know, they are blind to it and only i can see the circus they are blindly participating in and i can't handle it anymore...i fucking hate the truth that i see...i hate that everyone else is impervious to it.

I am aware of how the lights suddenly were too fucking bright and my stomach lurched in protest! i don't know what's going on, i don't know what's being said, i am the deer trapped in the headlights yet there's nothing that actually is going to run me over and kill me to help save me from this fucking burdening pain!

then just as quickly, everything narrows and collapses onto itself, into a darkened pinpoint of itself, it's as if the entire world has collapsed onto me and is squeezing me from the outside, suffocating me, threatening to burst every capillary in my body eyes bulge, i am sure they will explode and i will be forced to eat them out of my shrimp linguini.

my stomach lurches ...i need to take flight, but i am trapped again! stuck where i don't want to be...

maybe i just need to take a shit and it will be ok...i rush to the bathroom hoping that's the case, i splash cold water on my face, hurry up and feel better i think... hurry up! hurry up! hurry up! BE NORMAL!

butterflys the size of dinosaurs stomp around in my stomach and eating is the last thing i want right now...i don't want to leave the bathroom, it's quieter here and my senses aren't being assulted...

i want to crumble into a little tiny ball in the corner of the polluted bathroom floor rocking back and forth to the mantra

' i will be ok, it's alright, there's nothing to fear, shhhh shhh shhhh shhhh shhhh shhhh shhhh shhhh shhhh shhhh you're normal,'

 but there's no one to stroke my head and tell me these things, no one can help me, nothing can soothe me, i wanna crawl back into the womb and close my eyes and sleep for ever!

i can't even tell anyone about this craziness cause i see images of me locked up in a mental institution with a straight jacket on and that is the worst thing that could happen even worse than jail i think....

i look into the mirror and stare deeply into my pupils and try to see behind the mask of my skin...try to see the thoughts that terrorize me, try to understand this fucking boogey man that haunts me, that is a part of me, that is very likely very essence...

i am my own boogeyman and i terrorize myself and don't know how to stop or how or why i do it...oh boogeyman, come back another time, when i am more capable of handling it...i see nothing but the answers do i find, no comfort do i see, just a scared 16 year old girl afraid of losing her mind!

suck it up suck it up!!!!

I am 31 now and nothing has changed!

as i write these very words right now, a friend texts me and asks if i wanna come over for dinner tonight at her new house... as soon as i read this text, i feel do i get out of this? How do i say no and lie about why i can't go so that she won't hate me and abandon our friend ship?

i always say no and i habitually avoid her and come up with excuses and yet she still tries....she's patient i will give her that...but eventually they all crumble, they all leave me, i fuck up every single friendship/relationship i have ever had because of the distance i need to feel safe.

if someone shuts me down once or twice i never even bother with them again yet here are all these people that i always shut down; they are still trying to maintain a friendship, still hoping i will come out and play...i am so not worthy of these people and their love for me.

i can already feel how trapped i would feel if i left this house and actually went over i would have to smile in all the appropriate places and join in on conversations i don't give a shit about, how i would have to laugh at jokes or anecdotes that are useless and as pointless as life itself.

how i would have to deal with the mutant butterflys in my belly and will them to not come flying out of my mouth to eat the faces of all the guests...

i will just lie and say i was busy...she will know it's a lie as i have nothing to do and no where to be (i am retired for the year, see?).

i already know i will text her in 3 hours from now saying oh so sorry i wasn't around, i left my phone, i was sleeping, my phone is broke...or any other number of excuses i haven't given her yet...the thing with being this antisocial and still wanting to keep the friendships, is i have to remember what excuses i have given to's exhausting remembering all of my lies!

i love this woman, she's amazing...there's no reason to feel like this yet i can't escape the dread that follows whenever i have to go or do anything!

i am sure someone out there will try to tell me what my problem is or that there's a drug that can help me but i don't want it.

sure i fucking hate feeling like this but maybe this is the truth..this mundane, boring, panicky shit that i feel every single moment of every single day...maybe this is life???

maybe everyone wants so badly to believe that life is this wonderful blessing that they hypnotize themselves into believing it but not fucking way i have been down that road before.

 I joined a yoga cult (although i didn't know it at the time) for 6 months and that shit has a way of knocking reality into you when you see all the clones acting and behaving in accordance with what the guru tells them...what the fuck! and playing it off as if they were all being 'individuals' and 'authentic' ...but authentic to whom??? to you oh GURU? it's like he's the happy Hitler...the enlightened Hitler and everyone wants to follow someone who claims to have the secret, someone who will sell you his secret for the bargain price of your soul and your undying faith and worship!@!!!!

Happiness isn't for sale, yet everyone tries to sell it to you...and everyone is eager to buy cause we are brainwashed into believing that money can buy everything and fix everything and money = happiness right??? BULLSHIT!

i would rather be in this pain that i feel than be some fucking programmed asshole that thinks that everything is a miracle (cause that's what he's told to believe) and smiles like a fucking clown at everything and everyone cause they want everyone else to believe they are good people, kind people....happy people!

happiness is an illusion! happiness is bullshit and i wish the media would stop trying to force feed me it's bullshit that I am supposed to be happy and stop trying to make me feel bad for being such an anti social miserable bitch!


Believe it or not, this is what I think about on a 'good day' if you read my 'bad day' stream of consciousness you will probably kill warned!