One Week Later

I feel impotent. Day into day bleeding together, yet unable to stop the feelings of helplessness. I have fought for my son, and there is no one else to fight for him- to give his life potential. I see everything around me- feel everything- but I am unable to do anything. "Don't say anything unless you are willing to do it." Those are the words that have been uttered to me in anger. They ring true over and over in my head going round and round until I feel sick with dizziness. I can do nothing. Even the basic necessities of self care seem to be beyond my reach. I am in pain. I feel guilt. I am frozen in a feeling of hatred. I abhor the very essence of society. I want no part of humanity, or lack there of. Pretending is no longer an option. I want the thoughts to be obliterated. I need to feel the heavy burden of rumination relieved. I've swallowed the pills for one for seven days; and today on the eighth, I swallowed two. I feel no relief. Only a weight bearing down on my heart and my head. Only the repetition of others deception and my own impotence. The question- What do I do? Did I finally break? Is it the medication? If so, how much time do I have to endure this pain before they consider this a sufficient trial? Alone- and yet my mind is haunted. I suffer!

Beginnning Again

In 2012, on a dismal day in September, my Psychiatrist looked at me and said, "I've done everything I can for you. You need to learn to live with your fatigue, depression and obesity. Your husband will have to take up the slack. There is nothing more I can do." It took me about a week to decide- if I had to be miserable, I was going to be miserable off of medication. The next time I saw him I told him I wanted to get off of as many medications as possible. I was on nine prescriptions, six of which were psychotropic.

The last time I took an anti-depressant was January 15, 2013. Since that last dose I have been trying to regulate my moods with behavior modification techniques and a GFCF diet. It's been a long hard journey, but rewarding. I've lost 100 pounds and proved that the medications I was taking were not helping me. It allowed me to address hormonal issues, and look to physical maladies to explain my mood fluctuations. Unfortunately, I am still just surviving, so when a trip to the geneticist brought up anti-depressants I began to think maybe it is time to try something again.

My most successful time mentally was in 2003 when I was on a dairy free diet. I was taking Wellbutrin and Lamictal. I thought I would start there. Yesterday I went to my psychiatrist, and asked for Wellbutrin. I took the first dose last night- 150mg. It's a low dose. My psychiatrist told me it will take 6 weeks to see the results of taking this particular medication, but I tend to see results of any medication almost immediately. I don't know why- Whether it's my metabolic rate, or if I'm super sensitive to chemicals, but I tend to know in a day or two if something is going to be harmful or helpful.

I woke up this morning feeling even more apathetic towards life in general. I didn't want to get out of bed. I felt more guilt about not wanting to interact with Alexander. I'm more sad as well.

Lee made me some lunch, and I tried taking a hot bath; but- I just feel "done, tired of fighting." I'm not sure if this is a result of the medication, or if I was already at the breaking point before seeing the doctor.

I can't imagine that the Wellbutrin is going to work now. I think the medications must add to the depression some how; but only time will reveal if this was a downward spiral I was already on, or if the medication pushed me here. I have a good idea of what the doctor would say. It involves giving the medication "enough time to work" and even upping the dose.

I'm hurting mentally and physically. I don't want to deal with this anymore. I want to get better. I want the pain to go away. I want to be living instead of surviving. I want to enjoy life instead of enduing it.

2012

Every year with a mental illness has its trials and tribulations, but 2012, was an exceptionally difficult one. I struggled constantly to keep my head above water, and I was treading the entire time without answers. This entire year I have not been able to sit in front of a keyboard, nor pick up a paint brush. Any instrument of creative potential has been dead when placed in my hands. As though my entire being was simply flesh and bones, and the human gift of thought and imagination was plucked from my body. It has left me as a shell- able to carry out the daily druggeries associated with being a housekeeper and child rearer, but without meaning beyond knowing that these are my responsibilities.
In the years past I have held excrusiating pain. Pain that manifests between wanting to rip my chest open to release the pressure to feeling as though my throat is squeezing shut and my skull crushing and bleeding my brains throuhg my nose and ears. None of which can be observed by an outsider, so I have suffered alone and without understanding. And during these excruciating times, I turn to the only thing I know- reasoning and logic. They have guided me through these episodes, but last year my even mind began to fail me.

Drawing Blood

I'm barely awake; Fingers wrap around my forearm right before a sharp sting, there is a momentary feeling of relief as I watch the thick red liquid flow into the vial. The suffocating anxiety floods back into my chest as as the needle is removed. "I don’t need a Band-Aid it won’t bleed." The nurse skeptically shakes her head and lifts the cotton ball, her eyes slightly widening when there isn’t bleeding. I shrug my shoulders, "I don’t bleed and I can’t cry and yet the pain is overwhelming." Turning towards the wall, I close my eyes and welcome the dark veil that comes over my mind and extinguishes the screams inside.

A Note to Doctor

Dear Dr. Dillon;

I am not doing any better on the Daytrana patches. I have tried putting two patches on at the same time and there is absolutely no change. I have gone back to the Ritalin 20mg 3x a day and at least that gives me enough help to do the basic necessities (bathe Alexander, fix dinner, take kids to Dr. appointments etc...). I am miserable, so depressed and sad. Nothing helps. The last two nights I tried taking an extra 3mg of Invega again to see if there would be any relief. I only feel more weighed down... like I have bags of rocks tied to my head. All I want to do is lay in bed.
I am taking:
450mg of Wellbutrin
40mg Celexa
300mg Lamictal
3mg Invega
and 20 mg Ritalin @ 5:30am, 9-10am, 3pm
I don't know what we can do, but we have to do something. Lee is out of town, but we have to be aggressive with my treatment. I have responsibilities and I don't have time or the money for a hospital visit. I can't wait till April for an overhaul. I am "pulling through" and I am still cognitive and can reason through my irrational thoughts.
I have an appointment next week, but moving forward before then would be much appreciated!

Alice Lewis
555-0170 or Lee 555-1825
HouseofAlice@ymail.com

Dashboard Confessions

The road streches out in front of me. I am free. My wings unfurl. This is who I am. This is what I live for. Traveling my way to an adventure untold. Spontanious. I feel alive! The Dashboard is my therapist and the road I travel is the therapy. I whisper my pain away and every mile brings me closer to bliss. Home is only one page of my life. It is the adventures that fill up my book. The grand stories of experience.
A moment of insanity? Maybe...

Pain

I hurt so damn bad!
The pain in my chest is immeasurable... I am attempting to describe the indescribable.
I'm in Hell and the Devil's got my number! I beg...I bargain... yet the mental anguish continues unrelenting. I can imagine only one fate worse than this and it is not death.
It hurts to move...to have ideas... to plan... no dinner, no cleaning... no physical contact... "Don't touch me!"... all too overwhelming... suffocating... cotton batting filling my throat, my head in a vice grip, weights on my chest, burning in my stomach... yet those words only describe the physical sensations. Mostly... I would just like to cut my head off, blow my brains out, use an ice pick to give myself a lobotomy.
No! I'm not there yet... I'm still able to reason/rationalize. These thoughts aren't real. This pain will pass. These are just chemicals manipulating my subconscious. The extreme pressure suffocating me is imagined.
A deep breath, another, and then another, a ray of light? A moment of hope?
Free... I long to be free...to be able to breath.
::the Devil grins::
No matter how hard I try... I can't make it go away.

The Future and The Past

So much has happened since my last post... I feel wonderful and my extreme dislike of the human race has practical disappeared. I attribute it to birth control pills... isn’t that unexpected?! Apparently even though all of my hormonal tests came back fabulous over and over, my hormones or lack thereof were a significant problem. I love that an insignificant pill (that I don’t even have to take because my husband has a vasectomy) is practically a cure all! I’m still taking my other medications, but I have to say that this new little pill has changed my life!
Hubby and I went to "Tales of the Cocktail" in NOLA in July and it was excellent! Three days of childless abandon, lots of top shelf alcohol, and great people to hang out with. Our hotel was nice, but beyond the courtyard it didn’t have to NOLA charm I long for: a view of ancient rooftops and a balcony to sit and ponder life while I drink my coffee and watch the sunrise.. yep, when I am in New Orleans I never sleep in. The city is invigorating and brings me alive! The culture pours into me and fills my soul like no other place in the world! A unique place that holds on to the past, yet embraces the future and promises passion! There is no place I would rather be. It is where my soul resides, and where my dreams take me.
I lived through the boys birthdays this year with only a short time of despair and misery. I know that remembering the birth of your children is supposed to be a wonderful thing, but it fills me thoughts of hopelessness and overwhelming guilt. Other mothers’ don’t understand. I have yet to meet one that does. I love my children... I have embraced my future with Alexander and yet Sept. 10th through the 20th is the hardest part of the year for me.
I am back in my painting class. It is a studio class where we create and she critiques our work and pushes us past our comfort zone. I emailed my teacher before I signed up for her class. I explained my absence at the end of last semester, and she welcomed me back with much enthusiasm. I don’t think she knows what to think of me, but her friendly personality and sincere enjoyment of my work is a refreshing break in the middle of the week that I can look forward to.
I’m working on two paintings at the moment. One is a woman with large sunglasses soaring over a forest with a river running through it. I let my feelings dictate what my subject matter is and it pours onto the canvas; most of the time it isn’t until later that I can really understand the entire meaning of the images. This particular painting is a dream of the future so filled with promise and light I have to wear shades! The words that come to mind are "vibrant and natural."

The second painting was a result of reading the book "The Mists of Avalon." It is Morgaine surrounded by trees under a tumultuous sky. She is wearing a cape with the hood pulled over her hair, but she has a look on her face of knowledge and mischief. It is far from being completed, but it has much promise!
My life is still far from regular. I struggle with domestic issues; I clean bathrooms and vacuum constantly, but in the middle of it all I feel a since of belonging. I am coming into my own; fulfilling my destiny and ultimately embracing life.

Van Gogh Vacation

My mind was so tired and the bad thoughts weren't going away on their own, Homicidal Ideations. My medications weren't working and I was sitting on the sofa staring at Alexander wondering how I could relieve myself from all this pain. Summer was looming ahead and I felt like I was drowning gasping for breath and barely keeping my head above the water.
I took a Van Gogh Vacation, two weeks in the local mental asylum at the cost of $26,000. I have really great insurance, so the ridiculous cost of nurses spoon feeding me pills and unlocking my bathroom when I needed to use it didn't break the bank.
In a way it resembled a retreat, we had classes that encouraged finding the power within you to love yourself and put yourself first. Behaviour Modification Therapy is essentially convincing yourself that you are "worth it". Two weeks without responsibility, no cooking, cleaning, taking care of the kids. We even played board games at night. We encouraged each other to laugh. Unfortunately the reality is the issue that landed me in the hospital loomed overhead like an albatross. I was in the hospital, a self-imposed isolation from society, to get my medication straightened out so that when I went home I wouldn't be a threat to myself or others. It took 3 medication changes before the endless thoughts stopped consuming my every waking moment. However medication can only fix so much...
I found myself begging for help... How do I accept this life sentence. My child will never grow up. My dreams of traveling the world and spending days immersed in other cultures all dashed. How could I do those things with a very big, very loud, individual in tow? Anger and animosity overwhelm my life which in turn makes me a miserable person.
Acceptance is now my goal. The serenity prayer rings true. Accept the things I can not change. Courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Basically... work with what I have at my disposal. 1. Stop feeling guilty about not enjoying the things I can not change. 2. Stop over-compensating because I feel guilty and making myself even more miserable. 3. Stop "preforming" for other peoples benefit... be true to myself. If others do not like me for who I really am then I don't need them in my life after all. 4. Pay attention to the good fortune in my life. 5. Ask for and expect help. 6. Clean the bathrooms but don't vacuum more than once a day. 7. Cook dinner its something that I find calming and shows others that I love them. 8. Accept that there will be difficult days 9. Follow my dreams for they are still possible 10. Do what makes me happy and fulfills my soul.
I believe that everything happens for a reason. My stay at the hospital was a much needed experience. I needed the time to reflect on my life and dig deep into my soul to get to the root of the issues. I feel like I am finally climbing out of the well after treading water for so long.

The Treatment Team

The Treatment Team
By Alice Lewis

The Devil and his Pom Pom Girls
Phantasmagorical delight!
They peel away virtuous masks.
Three monstrous heads undulate:
Chanting their tenebrious cheers,
Shaking their black and white pom poms,
Ready for another face off!
The Cheshire cat smiles from his perch in the tree.
His Name is Dr. C

The victims and their mindless drool
Lobotomized existence!
Thousands of cries from men in hell:
Chains, straps and needles with thorzine.
Heads down, slippered feet shuffling
Through the labyrinth of white halls;
They seem to lead nowhere and yet,
The Blue Caterpillar has all of the cures.
He will not ever tell.

My insanity keeps me here.
Disproportionate Compliance!
Tonight we will eat the flat meat;
A patient that will never leave.
Here the apothecary stands;
I clench my eyes and hold my ears
Accepting my thimble of pills.
I have dreamed of my escape through the looking glass.
There are no mirrors here.

Memory Prompts

2010 Recap:
candy sale, Grandmother not dying in Ky, 10th Anniversary, fired, Sherrilyn Kenyon Tn, ran away NOLA, hired, Tails of the Cocktail NOLA, painting,drawing and sewing, Haunted Mortuary NOLA, vanilla holiday season and 0ver 60 Dr appointments total this yr.
(I think it is fair to say that I spend at least 25% of my life going to Dr. appointments.)

Farewell 2010... You were good to me!

Is the last day of the year a mirror into the past, or an augury of what is to come?

"Open Book" (thanks to Dogfish Head 90)

I ponder my accomplishments and stumbles in 2010.

Life is a road.

I look back and see the speed bumps and the potholes that slowed me down to a crawl some days. The days when my energy level was at 0 and I stood in the shadow of a mountain while happiness was on the other side. Or the times when I was at the peak where rainbows originate and the sun saturates you with its rays, everything at my fingertips, and I was filled with ways to expand my world.

It is said the difference between craft and art is creativity. A definition of creativity is "the ability to transcend traditional ideas, forms, and methods through originality, and imagination." (I think I'm going to have to paint that on my wall!)

2010 brought around a revolution to my life, my relationship and my soul. I fell hard before my husband gave me the gift of understanding. He opened my cage and set me free ... free of guilt and remorse. He gave me carte blanche to explore who I am. The technical abilities and the creative abilities... (see...) you have to have both to be an artist; a person must have amazing ideas and the ability to execute them. I find myself with ideas swirling around my head but without the ability to put them to paper, canvas, wire or fabric. Traditional school is impossible ... even though we have the money, and I have the intelligence, I can't be sure that my mind will stay involved and cooperative through an entire semester. I finally realized that this isn't an excuse for not having a degree but a reality. My mind is something that I must embrace and work with. I have been fighting it all my life, but it is not something that I can bullhead my way through.
During the last half of 2010 I treated myself as someone that has the time and the money to pursue their passions. Why not... And if I focus on what I can control, I have a wonderfully creative life.

Here is to 2011... May each day bring us closer to our dreams!

Halloween to Thanksgiving and beyond

Its almost Thanksgiving and the holidays are already in full swing. I am actually doing well.. I love the cinnamon apple and nutmeg smells and honestly I don't even mind when the stores start playing Christmas music the day after Halloween. I say..."The longer the season, the better!"
I am hosting Thanksgiving this year and I am very excited! I love fixing my specialty side dishes. The menu consists of brussel sprouts with caramelized onions and toasted pistachios, Kambuku squash layered with turnip greens and abborio rice and then of course the oldies but goodies, garlic mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole and green bean casserole for my brother in law.
I'm planning our Christmas vacation and it looks like we will be heading north hopefully to snow. Getting in touch with nature, visiting caverns, waterfalls and staying in a cabin will be the highlights. We may go all the way to Dollywood, but that is still up in the air. Most children want to go to Orlando, but Osric is a child of adventure and insists that we explore the world around us.
I have been completely inspired lately. From sewing napkins and holiday curtains (to replace the sheet that has been hanging in the living room window for ahhh I'd say about a year now
:-), sketching portraits to give to family for Christmas, painting surreal images and cooking delish goodies, I am in heaven! I have so many plans for the future, but it would seem that when I feel well I always get a bit overzealous with my ambitions.
I plan on submitting a poem I penned to a literary magazine. I'm hoping to get a full spread that includes the art that accompanies the piece. It is a surreal recount of my stay in the asylum and it really nails the ambiance of the place. Its a matter of figuring out what magazine would be best suited for the subject matter and of course publishes both poems and art in one place. Also, I found a gallery in New Orleans that I think would be a perfect place to display and sell my art. Once I am finished with the series of faces I am painting I plan on taking them, but I'm pretty sure it will be an easy pitch. The pieces are perfect for this gallery and they have several unknown artists, so obviously they are not apposed to new talent.
Hubby and I spent the day in New Orleans right before Halloween. There was this exceptional haunted house set up in an old mortuary (from the 1800's), and I simply had to go. The coolest thing was they gave you VIP tickets if you gave blood... fabulous idea and made the experience even more "ghoulish", not to mention being ushered to the front of the line was quite the first class treatment! I've been anemic for a long time now despite massive consumption of iron supplements, so alas only hubby gave blood. Major disappointment since I envisioned that it was for the infamous vampires of New Orleans.. Yes, I know that is a bit silly, but a girl can dream!

Can Madness Be Beautiful?

Van Gogh painted "Starry Starry Night" while in an asylum and only sold one of his paintings in his entire life. He killed himself at the age of 37 and yet is revered as one of the best abstract painters of the 19th century.
Can madness be beautiful?

Everday is important... Right?

Coffee in one hand; Coke Zero in the other, yes ladies and gentlemen I am a two fisted drinker! I find myself thinking about Bloody Mary’s by 9:30 (in the morning) and Sangria by noon. I think it was Jimmy Buffet that said "its 5 o'clock somewhere" and by 3 I have adopted his motto as my own. I figure the people that sleep till noon only have to wait 5 hours and since I got up at 6 am its way past time for me to engage in the act of imbibery.
I just spent 35 minutes looking for Alexander's remote control. He walks up to me leans in and whispers "Kah". Thank the gods I know what that means. "Ku" means book. "Koh Koh" means Popcorn. And then there are the syllables I can’t understand, it’s horrible. He touches my arm, looks me straight in the eyes trying to express his want or need, and I am clueless. Finally after racking my brain and naming everything I can think of I say "show me". Sometimes I figure it out. Others he finally gives up. I'm sure he thinks I'm a bloody moron. That might be the only normal part of our relationship because don't all kids think their parents are dumb?
Up again, we are looking for an elusive book. Outside, under the bed, behind the sofa, in the garage and I have no idea what book I'm looking for, but I keep searching. Now he has decided it is a lost cause. He kisses his fingers and points for me to leave. I've decided it’s his way of saying "kiss off Mom." But he will be back to try again, and we will look in the same places and hopefully (as most of the time they do) the book will miraculously appear.
Osric has been asking me if he can play his xbox for the last two hours and I've told him to clean his room (something I only say because I remember my mom saying it to me when I was bugging her for something to do). Usually this approach works, but today he keeps asking.
I don't understand why all mothers don't go insane. The women that were born with the ability to do everything should be taken out back and shot. They make the rest of us look bad! I have come to the conclusion that they are either taking their child's Ritalin, hopped up on cocaine, or when they are behind closed doors they beat their children unmercifully to relieve their stress. However; dinner is always on the table at 7pm sharp and no one has to be any wiser. I mean all kids end up fucked up by their parents one way or another.
I get up from the computer to stretch and survey the damage since my last parade through the house. Popsicle sticks, check; pieces of popcorn, check; books and DVDs everywhere, check; child still breathing and not covered in unmentionable things excreted from body parts, oh that reminds me, "Alexander go tinkle in the potty." I wait... once he is in the bathroom I sprint over there to peek in and make sure he is actually relieving himself. He stands up and I reveal myself and tell him what a good boy he is and remind myself that he isn’t a dog. I help him pull up his shorts and check for wetness. When I find none; I congratulate myself for being a good responsible mother and go back to the kitchen to ignore the children.
9:31, Damn it! There is only a tablespoon of vodka left, and I'm out of tomato juice. There is plenty of beer in the refrigerator, but even I have to draw the line somewhere. Alexander’s helper gets here at eleven. I steel myself. Chen up, I can make it. A sip of coffee, a sip of soda, and as Frozone in The Incredibles would say, "I'm good, I'm good!"

His Distance My Procrastination

Most of the time I feel like I am not doing the right thing by my son. Alexander is so difficult and there are so many things that I think would help him, but it seems like it takes so much persistence and energy to make stuff happen. How do I put aside my lethargy and push away my procrastination? One step at a time... One phone call at a time... Tell myself that I will do one thing differently today! He doesnt want to interact with me. He wants me to leave him alone and his behavior makes it so difficult to get past his distance. He is angry and seems unhappy. He is frustrated and I would be too if I couldnt communicate with the world.

Summer with Mommy Dearest

Summer is in full swing. Hubby got a job in FWB again and so he commutes back and forth everyday. Im not sure if I enjoy his constant companionship. I do like my personal time at home, but I do know that he will be home everynight to help out with the children. Yesterday I was totally freaking out because apd took away all of Alexander's Personal care hours. Which meant that I wouldnt have the same amount of help with him. Honestly his behavior is atrochoius. Hitting, kicking, pinching and the worst is biting. Awful! I am trying to get a behavior therapist to work with him, but it seems in this area they have a lot of work and only a few therapists. Its very frustrating. I was able to fix the hour situation... for now. Mentally it is a moment to moment situation. I have to keep reminding myself to stop and reavaluate what actually needs to get done and most of the time it calms me down. Narrowing down the big picture to only today makes things way more managable.

On The Edge Of Crazy

I've gone a bit mad as of late. Left in the middle of the night with my little sis and we drove to New Orleans. Extreme to say the least. We didnt tell anyone where we were going and I have to say it was a bit mean. My poor children I feel were the most tramatized by it.

I am having a hard time with the constant issues/side-effects that I have from taking all of these drugs, and honestly I think that they make it worse. Im not allowed to stop taking them and that was one of the reasons for my escape. I didnt take my drugs for two days and I actually felt better, but when I got home I had an ultimatum, take the drugs or leave. Wow! So here I am on the drugs again and feeling horrible!

Magic

When you realize that your life is at a pivotal moment you MUST act! It is now, or you will keep putting it off for who knows how long. Tomorrow, next week, in a month, year... lifetime??? I opened my closet of wonderful supplies: colored paper, paper with patterns, ribbons, buttons, beads, paint, pencils.. everything anyone could want for creating! It hit me. I must start. I must pull out the beautiful bits of magic and use them to make me more of who I want to be. Its amazing that glitter can turn into fairy dust if used to transform ones life into beauty. Art is magical in my life. It answers questions about my soul that I can not get from anyone else. It pulls the person I want to be out into the world and gives my aura a pretty pink hue. I need to do this. I need to be more, or I will fall back into the pit that I have climbed out of... I was wet, dirty and cold, but I have been nursed back to health. It is time to connect with my mind again and see what it holds. What can I contribute to life? Art washes the soul clean from the dust of everyday life!!!

Apathy

Motivation is so difficult to achieve when amidst a veil of apathy. I have 6 hours of quiet time while the boys are away at school during the day. I want to create. I want to make beautiful and sometimes dangerous drawings. I want to write, but when I start to think about it I get all anxious and start to procrastinate. All it takes is getting out the supplies and sitting down with my pencil in my hand. Why does it seem so hard to accomplish? My head starts to hurt and my eyelids get heavy and before I know it I am in bed sleeping the time away. I wake up and find myself disappointed that the day has slipped away.
I did make a huge step by making Dr appointments that I have been putting of for some time now. I even have a date book that I wrote all of my times in. New years resolution was to be more organized when it comes to appointments. So far so good.
I am always in such a hurry to do nothing.

helluo librorum

The New Year's bell is rung. The older child is at school and the younger one is still asleep.
I am overflowing with the need to connect to a person that has my love of bookish topics such as poetry, lyrics and the complexity of words. Beautiful words that create incredible imagery. Words that take the reader to precise places and then enslave you with the emotions and feelings so exquisitely displayed by the writer. That is the most extreme feeling. Understanding it, sharing it. Intimate and raw, bathing in the streams of fantasy woven for our psychological pleasure. A fellow logophile dancing through streams of literature.
So I search you out, a friendship born of literary love and abstract thoughts. A confidant that shares creativity with me and encourages me to explore life with wild abandon...
Where for art thou?

Quiet Rain

It has been a while since I have been able to access the darker areas of my mind. The places that many people don't have or don't allow themselves to find.
I like the rain. It brings with it a cloudy calm and heavy drops outside my window. I stare out and think about how nice it is to sit in the dark. Just the movement of my fingers reminding me their is life. I stop for a second imagining blood red wine and little pink pills on the table next to me. Yes, I still wish for oblivion at times. More often lately then I should. I dont want to die. I just wish to be uninvolved. I'm in my own world and I wish people would leave me here.
The rain is slowing down.

Nightmare WC172

This is the last one, I promise myself as I open the door. A bathtub sits in the corner filled with lye and an unfortunate soul almost dissolved entirely. I rub my watering eyes…all of my other senses are immune to the stench. Chains descend from ceiling holding an unrecognizable shape... it had only been six days since the last time. Dropping the spent body to the floor I roll up the tarp.
How easily they are charmed online, so naive and willing. Trusting my flattering words they deliver themselves into my sadistic hands.
With each one, I take my time. My beauties beg and promise anything as terror takes hold. My refection in their eyes is such a thrill. Knowing with every scream they are completely mine. Only with the jagged edge of a saw will they think of nothing else. I am everything. I am their God!
The lovely one on the floor is stirring. My pulse quickens as I drag her inside. I know she won't be the last.

Getting High on Air

Alexander has this behavior that absolutely drives me crazy! He Breathes in and out really fast until he hyperventilates and sees stars. Sometimes he falls down and sometimes he just makes strange faces... but he does it like 25 times an hour. It basically seems like all the time! He has also recently broken his volume dial.. every thing is a yell... happy, sad or any kind of communication is done in a yell. Mostly so loud that in public he makes people jump if they are close by. Its really bad in the middle of the night when he gets in bed with me and starts up. Let me tell you even someone that sleeps soundly is awakened by these noises. I beg him to stop, but it only causes more. Then he gets up and turns on all the lights in the house. At 3 am this is not fun. But there is no way to stop this behavior. Believe me when I say we have tried everything! Having an 8 yr old that doesnt sleep through the night is a real pain in the ass.. So enough complaining. Its labor day weekend and hubby has 4 days off.. We painted Alexanders room a green color.. it said it was grass cloth green, but looks more like asparagus soup green to me. Its not bad though. I'm thinking of putting leaves around the ceiling and making it like the Room in Where The Wild Things Are... That very night in Max's room a forest grew and grew until the ceiling hung with vines and the walls became the world all around. It should be really cool! Well thats about all

Quality Time

Im so frustrated. I havent gotten to watch a movie or do anything with my husband when the kids go to bed in forever. Im always to tired and so I go to bed when they do. Last night I told him if I fall asleep to wake me up. He didnt. I would really like to spend some time with him, but it doesnt seem mutual. If he doesnt want to spend time with me then I can spend time doing what I enjoy instead of just sitting around. God thats irritating.
My last post was ridiculous.. I almost think I was manic the way I was obsessing over the topic...
and most of it didnt make any sense.

Galbledy-Goop

Ok.. I just had the most fabulous talk over coffee with my mother...
I love thinking and opening up your mind and trying to understand new ideas. I'm not saying they havent been thought of before or mulled over during late nights of alcoholic brillance, but still they are new to me and I love to disprove anything. Everything can be disproved you jsut need enough information to do it. Eventually someone comes along that is smarter and shows you the missing link.
So we were talking about prime numbers and their importance in the universe. Where do they end and begin, because "in my mind" (now this is where the stupid italian goes to france, she either has to find someone that speeks both languages and can translate or learn the language. I chose to draw pictures until they teach me the words) once you find that end and beginning you would then have a pattern no matter what that pattern is.
So I was driving on the way home, using .01% of my brain to steer the car and the other 4.9% to explore this mathimatical idea of primes. Here is what I got excited over.. hahha
If there is no relationship between prime numbers and no clear pattern then it is the language of Chaos because there is no ryhme nor reason to their existance except they are based on nothing but themselves... (Now Im sure a million people have thought of this). A metophor for this would be languages. Words in modern language are built off of words from previous languages. There is no ryhyme or reason why these new made up words arnt based in another language. Or at least part of the word is derived from another language. Such are prime numbers... why are there numbers that arent made up of other numbers. How can things be more complex without being based on something simpler.. evolving in a way. 2 evolves to 4 and then becomes 6 and so on. 3 and two are base one 1 which would be the single molecule that relates 2 and 3. They do have something in common.. All prime numbers evolved from 1. 2, 3, 5, 7 evolved from one. What makes a single celled creature become more? How does it decide what it will be? and when does it start to evolve. Can we predict the end of evolution? When will things cease to change. Once every cell has mutated to its fullest ability what will happen? These are all questions that are related to finding a formula for Prime Numbers. Once the evolution of that new cell begins it can then become more complex such as 3. 1 becomes 3, 6, 9 and so on. Ever complex number is based on a prime number. 1 is the building block of evolution and everyother prime is another spin off from one. Each new prime number is an entirely new entity and until that time it does not exist nothing else could determain that this number or entity was possible by taking anything but the first cell of evolution. Why would their be a pattern to creation. To know that pattern you would have to know what formed 1. What made the first thing. The first thing is the beginning of the universe. People speculate the size of the universe. Some people think that the universe goes on forever, and others believe that it folds in on itself creating a loop. That the end is the beginning. Therefore in the end you would always start with 1. The one constant that we can relate to everything in our demention is that it exists. It takes up time no matter how short or long. If we were ever to find a pattern in the occurance of prime numbers then they would cease to be prime because in order to be prime they can't exist anywhere else. When there is a pattern there is repition of some kind, and there would cease to be another prime number

I am a Free Woman

I am a Free Woman!!!!
I made it through the entire summer and the children are back in school! Now all I have to do is make it through the birthdays in September and I am home free! Wooo hoo!
This week is my relaxation week.. Do nothing! Today I plan on watching two girlie movies while the boys are at school and pampering myself.
I have so many plans for this school year: Take advantage of my gym membership, Get creative, join an art group that meets on Wednesdays from 9 till 3, therapy with a wonderful woman who looks like a hippy and really seems to be in tune with what she does (we are going to work on relaxation techniques) Alexanders speech and communication board, being part of his school almost like a room mother and planning special activities for the class. I am sure there is more. Im quite stoked about it!
I have really been doing some interesting entries in my Guerrilla Journal. Working on really covering the pages and trying different techniques that I have read about. My camera battery died so I havent been able to take some pictures to up-load.
My head dr gave me prescriptions for 3 months. That means I am doing really well. I am determined for it to stay that way!
I absolutely love reading the artistic blogs by the multi media artists. Wonderful and Positive!

Appointments & Guilt

I havent written anything in awhile so I felt like I needed to sit down and put some thoughts on "paper". Actually I havent been doing much of anything. I did clean the house yesterday. I try to get that done every monday because the weekends tend to make the house look like the tasmanian devil came through. Creatively I have let myself slip.
This week is very busy with Alexanders appointments. One everyday this week starting with today, Speech and Ot. He sreams the entire time he is in the back and most of the other parents coming in make comments along these lines, "sounds like they are killing a child back there." I smile and tell them its my son to make sure that there are no derogatory remarks that follow. I dont care if they say something when I cant hear it. I just dont want to be privy them. I was called into the back by the speech therapist. She is using a picture communication system with him and if he has any hope of being able to communicate with him he needs the same system at home. I've known this for a while and the guilt of not making it happen is huge. Ill I have to do is go around and make pictures of everything in his life. Sounds simple enough. In fact the creative person in me should relish such a project. I don't. It seems so daunting. They also want me to take Brynmor out of school to bring him to speech and I have to say up front .. that's not happening. No no no No!
After speech we went to Toys R Us. Osric purchased a power miner lego with his allowance (I got suckered into paying the tax). I bought Alexander a Mr. Potato Head. I think we can do some great activities with him. Not to mention its always fun to have his arm sticking out of his ear and his hat in his mouth! Then off to Sams for Pizza. Alexander was "all done" as soon as we got there. We did manage to get him to eat some of his pizza but he really wasn't interested and Osric and I ended up having to devour ours on the fly. He screamed all the way home because we didn't go to the "ta-da" which means book store.
My head has been in a state of confusion. I try to focus on one thing and it jumps to another. Never landing on anything long enough to complete it. I cant read. I read the same paragraph over and over trying to absorb it and just end up getting frustrated. Normally this means that there is something wrong with the mood stabilizer.
When Alexanders helper gets here I hope to do something productive. I'm at a loss for what I could accomplish even though the list is long.

Excited and Inspired

I am so excited! I bought a new book about extreme journaling online and it is coming today! Yehhhh! I just finished reading one called Journal Revolution. It is interesting to see someone else's style and know that yours is completely different. Obviously there is no bad journaling. Capturing life in the moment, but there is a difference between journaling and scrapbooking. This book tried to blur the lines and it felt like they lost a lot of emotion in the process. I did learn some really cool techniques though! Photo booth pictures created with regular cameras, Now this was cool! They also suggested taking your camera everywhere. Something that I used to do but have long since replaced it with to do lists and money. I want to get back to finding entertainment within myself instead of using cash. Everyday moments that inspire me. When I look for them I see them in so many places. Architecture of different houses is really grabbing me right now. The houses in downtown are so wonderful. Built with charm and character. Anything built before 1950. My house is functional. Meets the needs I have. Open I can see the children in every direction. Perfect for this moment in my life.. but it doesn't speak to me. Trying to make it more of a representation of me.
Going downtown allows me to dream.

Madness takes Shape

I really love this journal entry. I had a lot of pent up anger and anxiety and I just let it flow onto the page. The day had been especially long with the children and I needed to escape. This is the first time I have used this method to release myself. It was wonderful! The red and yellow discribe the burning feeling in my chest and the duct tape is so perfect. It repersents the feeling of being bound. The black lines are trapping the madness in the book. I let it go and emerged from my personal hell. A fresh soul ~ purged!

Room Without A View

Eight pills in the morning, three pills at night and still I'm on the edge of a cliff. I drive down Scenic highway and think how easy it would be to just fly through the bushes and into the air off the cliff.. suspended in time until I either crash into the bay or on the jagged rocks below. This is a thought that has plagued me for some time. It was the idea that came to mind a year ago. So easy to just not make the turn. It's a long way down.
I'm sitting here at the computer my head in my hands wondering why I have to feel such overwhelming hurt. Ten Pills and I am a basket case. The psychiatrist never called my husband back.
I'm still able to take care of the kids for the most part. The house is a disaster because I have been spending the time cleaning out all of the nooks and crannies. I hate clutter. I hate nick knacks and things that aren't in a place for a reason. I've been throwing everything in the garage. At this point we can barely walk through there. I honestly don't even care what is out there. Sell it throw it away, but get it the fuck out of here! I feel like if i can rid the house of unnecessary items it will clear my mind of chaos.
I enjoyed my time with my mother yesterday. She was actually refreshing. I talked to her about the Dog and why it bothered me. She understood finally and told me she would never let anyone bring over an animal that terrorized him. So we just closed the door to the room and he couldn't stare under the bed at them.
Alexander's helper and I talked about using the extra hours that we have for him, so that we don't lose them. There could always be a time in the future when we need all 36 hours a week.
I keep thinking about the next house we are going to build and at the moment we are stuck in this one. Because of the housing market the damn thing has depreciated 40k since we bought it two yrs ago. Very frustrating considering there are so many things I would change. My husband refuses to spend any money creating a studio in the backyard for me. I do have a room in the house, but it is so dark in there. One window and the sun never hits it. Still I do have the room. I'm actually quite sure we could build something that could be moved to our next house, as long as it isn't built on a concrete foundation. I want windows and windows.
WJC is offering a few art classes that I would really enjoy this fall. Photography, Sewing and a collage class that I am interested in just to meet other like minded people in the area. I would also like to take a psychology class. A bit of an odd combination, but I have so much to offer in the mental health field and the only way to share it is a degree in social work, or a masters in Psychology. I think the only aspect about psychology that would be new would be the physiology of the diseases. Studying the physical mind. I'm not sure they do to much of this either.
Dreams, ideas and goals that keep me going. Keep me focused that there is another side to life. To be able to share with people who are in pain the aspect of art and the therapy it provides. A positive outlet that so many people need. Something I was actually thinking about the other day is one of the biggest problems for people with mental illness is cutting. Hurting themselves to feel that they are alive. I thought of an activity that would deter that need. Permanent markers to draw and write the way you are feeling, but instead of on paper using your skin as a pallet. Express the feelings in a physical way. Deface your body allowing yourself to write whatever you are feeling. I don't know if this would work, but if you can't wash it right off it is there when you get that feeling again. humm.. the idea needs work, but I have many ideas that I could use in a mental institution setting that would be cathartic. I have theses ideas because I have been there. Art Therapy!!!

Unfounded Anger

I want to cry but there are no tears. I am hurting inside. I want to disappear.

The helper comes, but she lets Alexander do things that upset me. She wont take him to the book store and Im not sure why.. its in her job discription. She is supposed to do everything. Personal care, playtime, and outings. Why the hell does she think she comes.... to sit around and then talk to me about what is going on in her business. I dont think so. But how can you be rude to the person that is watching your kid. Not a smart thing to do.

On top of that my mother is going to take Osric bowling, but then she asked if she could bring her dog. Wth is that about. I get time to myself, but I have to watch her dog. The stupid dog terrorizes my cats. Its very uncool. I know if I brought a great dane to her house that chased her dog all over the place and made him upset she would discourage it. But she will bring the dog and I will try not to act pissed.

My husband called the damn Psychiatrist to tell him I am feeling bad.. so what does the lady do.. she says he has an open appointment at 1:30. What is the point in calling him if I am just told to come in. It doesnt make any sense. Can he not do anything over the phone. I swear they dont help. So I cant make it cause I have to take Alexander to speech

Guerrilla Journaling

In the trenches... My mind is overflowing with thoughts of how to take myself to the next level of self-awareness. Colors flashing in my mind: full bodied red, extreme pink, luscious green, lazy blue all flowing onto my pallet of meditative brilliance. Bumpy paint chips as the base, tearing and adhering an envelope sent from an old friend, the page from a trashy novel, paint, paint pens, glue and stencils fly around the pages taking the form of an intimate moment of time. And then the words, pen endlessly dancing across the collage of life filling in the gaps. My future, dreams of things to come, pain from what has occurred and the poignant now. Words that can not be discerned once they are on the page. Thoughts that I don't share with the world covered by creativity. A private sanctuary where I escape to purge my mind of everything negative, explore the future in detail with lists and images and to make sense of the here and now. Lightening the load that I carry through the peaks and valleys. Filling myself with positivity that only comes from understanding the world around me. The how and whys of life. Finding meaning in the stuff that gets my hands dirty. Recognizing how important the little things are. A safe place where I can do no wrong. This is guerrilla journaling.

Word of the Day ~ July 23, 2009

Pother (noun) - 1. A state of nervous activity; a fuss. 2. To make confused; trouble; worry. 3. To be overly concerned with trifles; fuss.

And We're Off...

Its 6am. We've been up since 4:30. He is crying because I wont put a different movie in the dvd. He has gotten really bad about wanting to change his movies every 2 to 3 mins. I have to put my foot down and he has to get his feelings hurt to understand. Warm coffee in my hands with 5 splenda's and two creams. It's a very large cup that says, "Dad-- the local branch of the money tree," I love it! I'm not supposed to indulge in caffeine. I swear all of the good things are bad for you! I'm not going to give up coffee unless it kills me. It does make my heart race and sometimes causes panic attacks, but other then those two things and bad breath, its a gift from the gods!
My house looks like the carnival came to visit. Popcorn everywhere and stuff thrown about like we've been on the highlander. The ride that spins around really fast throwing you to one side of the car and then going backwards throwing you to the other side. You always lose something on those rides, scarf, shoe, hat, or worse. The worse was cleaned up immediately, but the other things are waiting until right before we have house guests.
We have a long day today. That always frightens me and makes me ill at ease. Alexander's helper is not coming this afternoon. We have a speech evaluation and I have to pick up some head meds. That means going to the store with the maniac. It could be an uneventful trip, but most likely we will have a bit of yelling, stomping and if we are lucky he might even throw a fit on the floor. He isn't a brat. He just doesn't understand anything like we do. I'm not sure he understands everything we say. Such as; you have that CD in the car, or that book at home. Stand up Alexander! Holding his hand, head forward with a smile on my face as he distracts every patron in the store. What's interesting is that people think he is just a regular child throwing a fit. I don't think it looks like anything a regular child would do. Especially when Osric is standing there the pentacle of well behaved children and Alexander is screaming on the floor. I must say does it look like you should come up to me and give me parenting advice? Most of the time I take it well. Say he is Autistic and overstimulated. They say, "I'm so sorry," head down tail between their legs. But then there are other times when I just can't take it. Ive been pushed as far as I can go. I'm frustrated with the situation and the people staring are easy targets. "What the hell are you looking at? Haven't you ever seen an Autistic child before?" when I say that it just makes me feel worse and the people don't learn anymore compassion because they have just been chastised and insulted. That is definitely not the way to make people more compassionate or aware of Autism. They make t-shirts that say wonderful things: "If you think my hands are full, you should see my heart." "What, Is my autism showing." "I have autism, Whats your excuse?" "I don't need parenting advice unless you have a child with autism." and so many more that are great. They even have cards you can hand out to people that are staring or confronting you. Integration for special needs kids is so important. Its their world to. They just don't understand all of it.
It's time for me to clean the child's room, 6:30 am and my day is in full swing.