candy drops, snot drops, and tear drops

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today i went to dr. val

i bought a bag of Hershey’s cookies and creme drops

they dont have a shell, like M&Ms

but they are yummy

dr. val only took 3 drops

i ate the whole bag

as

i cried

about Moonlight

snot was dropping

tears were dropping

candy was dropping

all over

then dr. val said

“LT, you have taken better care of Moonlight…

…than anyone ever took care of you.”

tears stopped

snot stopped

i froze

omg.

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why does the truth hurt so much?

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MY mistake messed-up my dog, Moonlight

Moonlight is my dog.  i found Moonlight when i was homeless and living in a tent.  Moonlight was with Shadow.  i was alone.  eventually Moonlight, Shadow, and me became a family.  then i found Harbor and we all live together.  Moonlight has a chronic disorder of the GI tract where her cells attack her… multiple types of cells (Lymphocytes and Plasmacytes AND Eosinophils).  if you are not familiar with the situation, go back to July, August, September of 2010 and read my blog… because most of it is dedicated to trying to keep her alive.  some people want to compare it to Chrons disease, but it is different; although some of the medicines used to treat the disorder in dogs are human medicines.  Moonlight has a very rare and severe case; in fact she is the ONLY dog my vet has ever treated with one of the medicines she takes (see below).

once Moonlight’s medicines were “right,” she improved and things were going well since Spring 2011.  Moonlight takes a regimen of the following:  azathioprine, budesonide (which i have compounded to the dose appropriate for a dog her size), metronidazole, ondansetron, marin, and SAMe.  the azathioprine and metronidzaole   i get as a prescription at Walgreens and Moonlight has her own Prescription Savings Plan Card…it saves me ALOT of money and cost me $20 per year… and for this, i love Walgreens.  the card even says Moonlight ____ (our last name!).  the ondansetron and budesonide is ordered through my vet who orders it from other places.  the marin is also gotten from my vet.  the SAMe is purchased at the store… it is in the vitamin aisle.

Moonlight takes:

• azathioprine, metronidzaole, and budesonide for her GI condition
• ondansetron for nausea
• marin and SAMe are for liver

because Moonlight is on heavy duty drugs, it effects her liver.  i don’t understand why, but i listen to my vet.  in Feb 2011, her liver was enlarged and her enzyme levels were REALLY HIGH.  i could even see how big her liver was on the X-rays.  she was headed towards liver failure.  the vet prescribed Marin and SAMe given every night to help.  i did as i was directed and in Spring 2010 her liver size reduced and her enzymes reduced ALOT.  it was like a miracle.  her enzyme levels went from 1500+ to the low hundreds.

Moonlight just had another blood test last week… her liver enzymes increased to the 400-700 levels.  i can’t give you units or the exact name of the enzymes because i dont understand them.  i dont even know what the liver really does..  i just understand the enzymes are NOT supposed to be elevated….

AND IT IS ALL MY FAULT

this summer, i FUCKED UP.  i forgot to give Moonlight SAMe.  i forgot.  one day it was on my list to get at the store, but i forgot to get it… then  i forgot.  with everything going on, i forgot.  i skipped several weeks of SAMe, because i didnt remember to buy it.  today, after i talked to the vet, i got off my ass and took my last $20 and went to Walgreens.  with the card, i also get 10% off Walgreens products.  i got a box of SAMe 400 mg to give to Moonlight starting tonight.

my vet was nice.  when i told her i was a bad dog owner, she said if i was there in the office with her, she would kick my ass for saying that.  but the truth is, because i forgot, Moonlight’s liver is hurting…

i have been sitting on my floor and crying all day. 

i feel so badly, like i could have killed my dog.. 

how could i be so fucking stupid…

slap of reality … … im not going to make it

i realized as i laid on the floor staring at the ceiling all day, that im not going to make it.  the average life expectancy for women is like 79 years old, but i dont think i will make it to my through my 20s.  so many years to go.  i heard someone on tv say that “life was all luck” … ive had so much bad luck in my life, that if i were to continue on this path, any luck i do have, will run out shortly.  cats have nine lives, people have one.

the odds are stacked against me.   who am i kidding?

god.

the reality is:

i am lost, like a lone seagull riding the ocean waves trying to find a fish of salvation.

my heart feels so empty that its paper thin walls are in danger of bursting apart, with each distressed beat.

my head is screwed-up so badly that my life is filled with darkness, lost time, and confusion of the world inside and out.

i have trouble trusting and hence attaching to anyone, so creating relationships to fill my empty heart takes years… and most people don’t have patience for that.

i am basically wasting fresh air… i am a waste.

i have been dumped throughout my life, by all types of people calling themselves “parents,” “bioparents,” “foster parents,” “potential adoptive parents” — from infancy until just recently — what the hell is so wrong with me?  if there wasn’t something wrong with me, the dumping would have stopped at some time…

im tired.  im tired of false hope.  im tired of thinking that at some point, things will be better.

im tired.

if you werent loved as a child,  how can you be loved as an adult?

Foster Care Street

as you probably guessed, i am exhausted and overwhelmed since meeting with Dr. S on thursday.  thus, i literally laid on my futon and on the floor all day watching tv and sleeping.  somehow i wound up watching Sesame Street ALL day.  first let me say, that when i was growing up with my bioparents, we did not always have a tv, so i never saw much of Seasame Street.  i remember seeing it in foster homes, although by the time i was watching it, i was 7-8-9 years old.

Sesame Street is an amazingly creative show, filled with lessons and teachings about life and growth for children. 

As I watched a day of this show, I realized how in some ways Sesame Street is incredibly similar to the Foster Care System.  Follow me here…

1.  Tons of kids, no bio- parents, a few foster parents

There are always kids on Sesame Street, but never any bioparents.  The kids are running in the streets, playing in the streets, hiding, talking to strange creatures, and generally not supervised, until it is time for a lesson, or to sing, or someone gets hurt.  Crap, even the puppets are kids!  Big Bird and Oscar are only 6 years old!!  Where are the bioparents?  Maybe they only show up when court-ordered…

But there seems to be several “foster” parents who watch the children – Alan, Gordon, Susan, Leela, Susan, Gina, Gabbi.  These humans act as care-takers to both human children and puppets alike teaching them everything about kindess and manners to nutrition and hygiene to letters and numbers.  These “foster parents” step up to care for children with no families in Sesame Street.  But like reality, there are not enough “foster” parents for all the children and muppets.  The ratio of children to parent is too high…  Sesame Street needs more “parents” in the neighborhood.

Interestingly, no child actors were used and it is reported that the cast of Sesame Street had to learn to “get used to the sponetiaty and unpredictable behaviors” of the children ….just like foster parents getting used to new foster children.

Believe it or not, at least two adoptions have occurred in Sesame Street.  Gordon and Susan adopted a child and Gina adopted a child.  But guess what?  Neither occurred through foster care.  Nope.  As far as I can tell, Gordon and Susan adopted their son as a HBN and Gina went to another country to adopt an infant.  So in Sesame Street, there are tons of children with no bioparents, but they remained unadopted… probably because they are too old…

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2.  No-one wants the Trash

Oscar the Grouch has lived on Sesame Street for ALONG time.  He can be found living in a garbage can, implying perhaps that he is trash.  Many people don’t like Oscar initally and clearly he pushes people away by telling them to “SCRAM” or “GO AWAY.”  Oscar also hoards items that seem meaningless to most people.

Some people consider foster children trash; because they come from “trash” and it is “not their problem.”  Additionally, the foster care system throws many foster children out like trash as well, when they age-out of the system.  Many children with no-where to go, no connections… dumped and forgotten about.  Dumped like trash.

Foster children who feel unwanted and bad about themselves, push people away… by acting-out or acting-in.  They tell people to “SCRAM” or “FUCK OFF” as a way to protect themselves from getting hurt.  It’s all defense and self-protection.

Like Oscar, some foster children hoard items that many people would think are “trash” and meaningless… little notes, wrinkled old photos, candy wrappers, broken toys, etc.  I can remember carrying around an empty M&M box that I had gotten one Christmas.  I ate all the M&M’s but kept the box “for memories..”  Trash to some, special to me.

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3.  No-one believes the children

There is a character called Snuffleupagus who has been around Sesame Street for ALONG time… but only Big Bird (aged 6) could originally see him and believed his existence?  He is a HUGE brown 4-legged, long snuffle-nosed creature that people could not see?   WTF?

According to Wikipedia, in 2006, Snuffy was revealed to most Sesame Street human characters…

Guess what?

The reason he was revealed to the Sesame Street world, was because there was concern that children were becoming scared that NO-ONE WOULD BELIEVE them if they revealed abuse to adults… since no-one believed Big Bird for so many years.  Snuffy became “real” to encourage believing children.

In foster care, there is alot of denial too.  Denial about abuse, denial about mis-use of money, denial about people not doing their jobs, denial.  There is a big fucking wooly monster in the room, and nobody can see it…  (HERE, HERE, HERE)

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4. One has an eating disorder

Cookie monster has an unhealthy relationship with food.  His diet consists of cookies, which he shoves into his mouth at rapid speed.  Most foster children have fucked up relationships with food.  They hide food, hoard food, eat weird things.  I sometimes ate everything till I puked and something ate nothing, preparing for starvation when I moved homes.  As a kid, I sometimes ate paper, sometimes carpet, sometimes banana peels, sometimes other random things to try and stop the starving. As an adult, my relationship with food is still unhealthy.  (Click here for guidance with food issues).

Ironically it appears cookie monster has had this issue for along time and no-one has gotten him the treatment he needs.  Just like foster care when mental health needs and medical needs are at times neglected…

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5. Learning new things and making a difference

Sesame street teaches kids differences about people and introduces kids to other cultures.  In fact, Sesame Street has had characters from minority and ethnic cultures since the 1970s.  The series even introduced a character that was HIV+, handicap characters, and has dealt with death.  Lots of things for kids to learn…

According to Wikipedia, one of Sesame Street’s initial and primary goals was preparing young children for school, especially children from low income families.  The show’s producers used modeling, repetition, and humor, to fulfill their goals.  MODELING, REPETITION, and HUMOR are qualities needed for “good” foster parents.

Being in foster care opens the doors for children to learn about different cultures and lifestyles.  “Good” foster parents can open a world of opportunity to foster youth, who most likely comes from poverty, low education, and abuse.  From my life with “good foster parents” I learned things that I am still using today… what better way to help a child and leave a mark on their life…

stitches, sleepyness, stupidity, and a new specialist

yesterday i went to the clinic for my appointment, which was 2-fold:  get the stitches out of my arm from a terrible self-attack over a week ago, and find out if i have a problem because i am too skinny and too sleepy for someone my age.  i took the bus to the clinic and had to wait because it was really crowded.  i found two Highlights magazines because i wanted to do the hidden pictures.  the first one i grabbed, someone had already colored the hidden pictures in, so that was ruined.  but the second magazine was ok and i spent 35 minutes looking for hidden pictures.  i would like to get a subscription to Highlights some day, because i like the hidden pictures and puzzles so much.

eventually Nurse J came and got me and took me back to the room.  she is really nice and even asked how my wrist was healing and if i was still NOT smoking.  she congratulated me for not smoking for this long.  eventually Dr. S came in and said “Hi LT, how are you?  Jump up here and let me look at your arm first.  Then we will talk ok?”  I said “Hi Dr. S…ok.”  I jumped up on the table and rolled up my sleeve.  She gently looked at my arm and all the cuts — “Looks like all but these two are ok.  These two cuts need a couple days still.”  Dr. S got herself ready and started slowly removing the stitches from my arm.  I just watched.  She finished up and wiped my arm and said “These two will have to wait… lets try next week.” 

and now for something completely different – DANCE

since i am trying to keep my mind off my doctor’s appointment tomorrow where i get the billizion stitches removed from my arm and find out why the fuck i am so exhausted all the time, i am going to write about dancing…

as you know, my foster parents, The Hippies, encouraged dance as an expression of feeling.  if we werent sitting around doing kum-ba-ya crap, or in the woods, we were dancing our asses off to all kinds of music.  the cool thing about it was that there was no right way or wrong way to dance… all dance was good.  i remember one time i was in a pissed-off teenage mood and my dance included flipping BOTH middle fingers at them.  and when they tried to “reprimand me,” being the smart-ass teen that i was, i said “all expression is allowed in dance!”  and flipped them off again.  LOL.

death note 2

dear KC-

by the time you get this note, i will not be here.  i wish i could tell you why, but i dont want to burden you with my life struggles.  i have been so sad and so tired, i needed to change things.   you are an amazing person.  you befriended me, without judgement, even though i come from a world you have never known and may even have a hard time understanding.  you didnt care that i was different from you in so many ways, because you always found the ways that we were similar.  when all i saw was difference, you found commonality.  you have such a good heart; it is so pure and free.

thank you for being my first real friend.  i cant remember if i ever told you that, but you were my very first friend.  thank you for introducing me to your family.  it has been so long since i felt like i mattered to anyone and your family welcomed me with open arms.  you are so creative and artistic, you have such a gift.  i know you will do great things.  you are so understanding and compassionate.  you have such good in you.  i dont know if you can see it, but you do.  thank you for being so kind to me.

when i reflect back on my life, these months that i knew you were some of the best.

Shadow, Moonlight, and Harbor really like you.  i know you like them.  the only way i could go and set myself free was when i was 100% sure that they were safe and in good hands.  i know that now.  your hands are the best hands for them.  i know that you will get Moonlight to fetch one-day.  i know it.

they say time heals all wounds… but it doesnt, my friend….  time sometimes makes them so much worse.

thank you KC for more than you will ever know.

peace,

LT

(**this is my feelings that i am dealing with.  i am writing this blog to keep me alive.)

Back to School Special

One young 20-something student of life needs lots of education to graduate. Filled with tons of street smarts, but very little book smarts.

• Can build a fire and dance a jig, but have no fucking clue how to do trig.

• Like my inner self which is a  huge mystery, I have no understanding of US history.

• Slept many nights on a bench, but have no idea how to speak other languages like French.

• May be really skinny and trim, but I am so dam tired I would probably need gym.

• Really don’t like to do so much pleading, but I truly need some help with my reading.

Tutor with patience, understanding, creativity, and caring needed.  Currently working at a highschool freshman level, maybe lower in some subjects.  Never graduated highschool, aged-out sophmore year.  Got a GED.  Can write a kick-ass blog about my life, but not an essay about anything important.  Don’t know anything about the government, but I do know who is the president.  Read children’s books and children’s magazines… although a “part” of me borrows smarter books from my therapist and from my vet.  Willing to try my hardest, which in honesty waxes and wanes with my moods.

The US touts “No Child Left Behind” …

…that was NOT true for my life and my mind!

another first for me… thanks to my friend, KC

this afternoon i was sitting around staring at the ceiling, trying to sleep.  i had therapy with dr. val in the morning and i was really tired after… we talked about “the folded piece of paper” and also about how shitty i was feeling lately… needless to say,  i just wanted to sleep the afternoon away.  as i drifted into my sleepy world, the buzzer to my apartment buzzed and woke me out of my dream-world.  it kept buzzing!  i got off the floor and pushed the intercom and said “WHaaaaaT?”

“LT, let me up.  Let’s goto the park with the dogs… it’s awesome out.”

I stared at the intercom, realizing that at the other end, was my friend KC.  omg

ME: “KC…im fucking asleep.  what are you doing?”

KC:  “LT, comon, let me up!!!”

guess what? … … they are working!!

after months of a broken left wrist that required a wristjack screwed into my bones, today at PT, my two fingers WORKED!!!

the two fingers in the circle were affected by the screws in the bones …and did not bend.  since they didnt move alot, they got super stiff.   now, they can bend by themselves and wiggle!!!!

i am so happy to have my hand back!!

 

now…the wrist…

i was a foster kid… i should be used to the unknown

i sat on my sorry-sad ass all day, sleeping and staring at the ceiling.  i am so depressed and so tired.  i can not believe how exhausted i am.  in a way, i almost hope the blood tests find something, so that i have a reason for being so dammed tired.  a few feet away from me, on the floor, laid the drawing that Dr. Val gave to me yesterday … still folded up into a little square.  not opened.  not revealed.  the unknown hiding from me.

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dr. val maps my fucking chaos

today i went to Dr. Val.  if you are a newer reader to my blog, i usually goto therapy 2-3 times a week.  i met Dr. Val in the mental hospital after trying to commit suicide in spring 2010 and have been seeing her since.  she is an expert in trauma disorders… whatever that means.  and i like her enough that i keep going.

so today, i took one of the fish, from the bucket of fish that Jessie bought for my “part” at Target.  i took the bus from my new apartment and actually arrived early. WTF?… i am always late.  when Dr. Val greeted me, i handed her the stupid plastic fish and started to cry.

… and cry.

… and cry.

i told her what happened; that i was embarrassed, and sad, and mad.  that she needs to get rid of the “parts” or get rid of me, because i cant take it.  that these fucking “parts” have been ruining things for me and they dont have any relationship with ME, but with her and Jessie.   …. what about me???

she listened and then said “LT, you have to trust the process.  Things are actually going well.”

ME:  TRUST THE PROCESS?  WTF IS THAT?  — I dont even feel that I am part of the process…

As I was shouting at Dr. Val, she turned around and pulled out a large piece of paper, folded in half… I didnt know what it was, but it was writing and shapes.. and lines connecting circles and squares.  It looked like a fucking disaster.

someone kill me before i die of embarrassment

i called Jessie Tuesday afternoon… not because I wanted to, but because I think it would be rude not to return the call after she has been so incredibly nice to me.  i figured she wanted to talk about the shopping spree on Monday (CLICK HERE).

this is how it went, briefly:

ME:  hiya Jessie, it’s LT.  im calling you back… although, well, … im kinda worried.

JESSIE:  “Hi LT.  I am so glad you called.  No need to worry.  I just wanted to touch base with you because well, I spent some of the day with you and some with your .. parts.  And I don’t know what you remember or what you want to know.  I didn’t want you to be upset, because it was a really good day.”

ME:  … …um…. i was upset because i got toys… and i dont remember anything after pulling into the Target parking lot… and i …i…

JESSIE:  “Yeah, in the Target parking lot, I was asking you something about something I noticed on your arm and …. well, then Riley came out… is that what you call it?  And she … I mean, you… er, Riley was a sweetheart in Target.  I wanted to get you a couple tops in the clothing section and I told Riley that if she was good while I picked them out for LT, she could get a toy.  She asked who LT was, but said ok.  So, I picked out tops for you…. if you don’t like them, we can take them back… but they seemed your style.   Did you see those?”

ME:  …oh yeh.  i liked them.  i really like the teeshirts and the green sweatshirt.  i didnt remember getting them with you…. so now i know….  im sorry… but you really picked out some good ones.  thanks.

shopping has left me sad and at a complete loss…

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i remember:

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1.  Jessie picking me up a 11:00 AM

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2.   lunch … yumm

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3.  Kohls

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4.  pulling into Target

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that is it…

… then blackness… … …. …and gone…

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i came home with:

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1.  some clothes

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2.  a pair of sneakers

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3.  a bucket of plastic fish

4.  a stuffed kola and baby

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5.  these things … ?

6.   pink and blue cotton candy – 1/2 eaten

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and HOURS later…

…”I” came back and found a phone message:

“Hi LT, this is Jessie.  Give me a call when you get this message – xxx-xxxx.  No rush, I just wanna talk.  I had a great day…Take care, Bye.”

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She had a great day and I don’t remember most of it…. fuck.   i am so tired of not understanding and being confused. 

the closest thing i get to being with a “mom” and it gets ruined  

GO AWAY PARTS-  i dont want you!

ah shit.. jessie and me… going on a shopping spree

on saturday i went to KC’s house for dinner.  she came and picked me up because she wanted the dogs to come… and in my city dogs are not allowed on the buses.  i wore a pair of jeans, my holey chuck sneakers because my little toe likes to stick out the sides, and a tee-shirt covered by a sweatshirt.  pretty standard for me.  now, if you recall, i dont have alot of clothes… never had the money to buy many. also, if you recall, when the cast and then wristjack were on my arm, all my sweatshirts were cut up on the arm to allow room.  since the wristjack came off,  i have been using safety pins to hold the two sides of the sweatshirts together.

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i bought peach ice cream and magic shell chocolate syrup for dessert.  magic shell syrup comes out like a regular syrup, but when it hits the ice cream, it turns hard, making a “shell” on the ice cream.  its really good but its also expensive for a little plastic bottle. when we got to KC’s house, i went into the kitchen to put the ice cream in the freezer.  KC’s mom, Jessie, was in the kitchen rolling dough for pizza.  she stopped and bent down to pet Moonlight and Shadow, who were wagging their tales at her.  she then looked and me and said “Hiya LT, let me give you a hug.”  i sort of shook my head and she gently grabbed me to give me a hug.  she smelled pretty and i was really glad i had taken a shower in the morning.

KC took Moonlight and Shadow outside on the deck and i sat down with a Dr. Pepper on the barstools near the counter where Jessie was rolling dough.

ME:  .. thanks for having me over.   its been different being in my apartment… although i like the place.

JESSIE:  “No problem LT.   Once you get back to work, we will figure out a permanent day.  I bet it has been hard being in the apartment.  Are you settling in at all?”

the crappy consequences of new creaking

i moved into my new apartment almost a week ago.  six nights, of which half of them have been spent hiding in the closet.  noises.  new noises.  lots of noises.  new creaking, new cracking, new thumping… new noises.  the building is old, so it likes to make noise. this morning i woke up with major consequences…

lots of blood

after 2.5 hours in the clinic…

stop the blood

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and because i am too tired and too skinny for my age…

take the blood

the difference between a foster kid and a “normal” kid

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As a Foster Kid…

You dream of flying to space, not because you dream of becoming an astronaut, …but because you dream of getting the fuck away.

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You finally get the courage up to tell your “parents” a secret about your past or your abuse or something scary … and the next day or two, they get rid of you because it is more than they wanted to deal with.

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When you wake up,  you have no clue where you are… because you have slept in so many beds and so many rooms, that nothing defines YOUR space.

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You walk home from the school bus stop and forget where you live… because you have lived in so many houses, nothing screams “HOME” anymore.

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You have learned to like spegetti 20 different ways… because every home uses a different sauce, noodle, and cheese.

You don’t have a favorite brand of soap or shampoo … because you get what is “on sale.”

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You find a wad of gum stuck under your bed … and its not yours.

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You answer to anything when someone calls a name … because different places call you different things; some use your full name, some use your nickname, and some use a random name that *they* think is cute.

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You miss school to attend court and when you get there, you have to show the newbie worker where interview room 205 is… because she is new to the courthouse and you are not.

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You answer a ringing phone and say “that person does not live here” and hang up… then realize they do live here; you just forgot where you were.

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You call everyone “mom” and “dad”… because those words have no real  meaning anymore.

who the fuck likes fig newtons?

since i moved into my new apartment, i have really been a big lazy slug and been doing nothing.  you can read my previous posts to get an idea that my level of activity is almost zero.  that level includes not really eating, so i never really checked out what foods were in my new apartment.  i did today.

so, here’s the deal… I DON‘T REMEMBER GOING FOOD SHOPPING.  understand?  no clue.  but my fridge and pantry are stocked with all kinds of foods.  if you are a regular reader of my blog, you know that i have been so fucking broke in the past that i literally eat most of my meals at work and that i have very little money for food.  and what money i had, i usually spend on my pets.  since the accident, i have not been working and am broke,  and KC’s family has been supporting me, with the clear understanding that when my accident lawsuit is settled, i will repay them.  although they did not want it, i force them to keep a log that i sign.  so, based on my previous living style,  it is a shocker to me to have a frig filled and a pantry filled with food.  it is almost funny.

i am DID which means i have “parts” that i have no fucking clue what they do.  while they are really part of me, the “parts” almost live separate lives.  my parts are mostly children and teens and a couple older parts… at least the ones Dr. Val has worked with thus far and tells me about.   so, apparently some “part” went shopping … because there are foods “I” don’t even eat or like in my new apartment… like fig fucking newtons!

so for example, in my frig and pantry are the following: in red “I” can’t stand

• fig newtons cookie things
  
• pringles  (sour creme and onion and regular)
• animal crackers
• grapefruits
• bolgna
• eggs
• jolly ranchers
• pudding cups, chocolate and vanilla
• turkey breast
• cheddar cheese
• sprite
• fruit loops
• grapes
• lemon cake thingys
• tomatoes
• ramen noodles
• strawberry perserves
• grape jelly in a squirt bottle
• crunchy peanut butter
• strawberry yogurt squirt tubes

get my drift?  the funny thing is that a couple of the listed items, “I” really dislike, like grape jelly,  yogurt, lemon cake, and fig newtons!  the frightening thing is “I” don’t know how all these items landed in my apartment?  did “the part” go alone?  did it go with KC?  did it go with Jessie?  “I” have no clue… and the thing that really pisses me off is that if “I” had gone shopping, money would not have been wasted on items for other “parts.”

in the doghouse

i moved on saturday and i have literally been laying around all day since then.  i can barely move.  i am so tired.  i am so emotionally drained.  i feel like i am waiting for death to come and release the pain.  i have stared at the ceiling and the walls so much, i was at times losing myself in the paint.

i did goto two appointments, but i dont remember shit…  i went to dr. val and it sucked.  i dont remember what happened.  no clue.   i went to PT for my wrist and it sucked.  i dont remember what happened there, either.   i have food in my fridge, but i dont know how it got there.  i didnt even return KC’s phone call, because i couldnt move very much.  i was trying to get happy, but nothing was working…  so i laid there sleeping and staring at the ceiling…. ..my skinny ass was wasting away, because i didnt even feel hungry and didnt eat anything..  i felt nothing but tired.  nothing but sadness. nothing but depression.

… today as i rolled over and was about to fall asleep again,  i noticed both Moonlight and Shadow standing by the door that leads out to the balcony.  both tails were wagging and Shadow’s back paws were moving up and down.  i realized that since i moved in, i had seen this before, but i did not put 2 and 2 together.  you see, they were standing there, excited to go out and watch the world from their NEW balcony.  a balcony where they could watch people and cars and birds and enjoy the breezes and the sun and. .. ..

i got up, petted Moonlight and petted Shadow who could barely stay still, and i opened the door… letting them onto their throne.   as i looked at them watching the world below, i realized we were all home…

i should be happy… but i feel really sad

**dear kind readers, my posts are not suicide notes.  they are blogs of expression of feelings to keep me alive.  part of this blog is a release of deep pain resulting from my feelings and my life.  i so very much appreciate your notes of support, but i don’t want you to get “worried”.  so, here is the deal … unless i “disappear” for several days without a reason, no need to think suicide.  there are times that i can not do anything if i am stuck in my pain or engulfed in my feelings.  i literally do nothing but the minimal.  i see it as a way of processing.

i put the little note at the bottom of that post, so people would not get too nervous reading the blog.  they are my feelings.  as Dr. Val says  “all feelings are valid, but not all feelings need to be acted on.”   

the reality is that if i am going to kill myself,  i will not tell anyone…

            … so as long as i am writing, i am fighting. — peace

.

.

so i moved.

after 3+ months of living in my friend KC’s basement and living in a family because some fucker hit me with his car… yesterday, me, Moonlight, Shadow, and Harbor moved out.  KC, Page, and my one hand and three working fingers of the other hand moved my few items into my new apartment.

i have been sitting in my new apartment staring at my new ceiling and into space for 2 days; not feeling like celebrating, not feeling like unpacking the few items i own, and not feeling like doing anything… but staring at the ceiling.  don’t get me wrong, the apartment is fucking amazing.  CLICK HERE to read about when me and KC found it.  it has one bedroom, a little balcony for Moonlight and Shadow, it’s safe, the landlord is good, it has no exploding lightbulbs, it has AIR CONDITIONING, it is in an artistic, much safer part of the city, it is on the top floor (only THREE flights now), it has a dishwasher, GREEN countertops, and it has a kickass bay window.  it is more than i ever imagined i would have… more than i ever dreamed of.  more than i ever thought i would live in.

but instead of being happy, i am so very sad.

i am so depressed.

i had to leave another family, just when i was getting used to it.  i had to leave a place i was getting comfortable in.  i had to leave a place that met alot of my needs.  i had to leave a place where i “mattered.“  i know many people were amazed that Jessie invited me over for dinner weekly.  many comments, which were very nice and appreciated included things like “my family does not even do that!”  — and true, many families do not do that in today’s pressure packed life, families may not get together weekly or monthly…

but what i want all of you to understand is this:  while my chronilogical age is early 20s  and i am considered a “young adult,” my developmental/emotional age is that of a child.  so, a weekly invite to dinner is barely touching the surface of what i really need.. because i NEVER got what i needed.  i need so much.

i feel so little.

i feel so needy.

i feel so confused.

i feel so different.

i feel so empty.

i feel so alone.

i feel so unconnected.

i feel so terrified.

i feel so abandoned.

  i feel so… familyless.

and it hurts…more than you can ever imagine.