No More Excuses

Stop. Now.

Far too often, people will blame their disability, ranging from hardly noticeable to life altering, for bad behavior. Even more often are the excuses made by someone who thinks they're being genuine. Neither are helpful.

As I'm sure most of you have heard, there was a 4-year-old boy who bought over $2,600 worth of popsicles. He's getting all sorts of attention, people think it's cute, and all the brat has learned is that, if he does something bad, he gets rewarded. But there are so many clueless morons out there who believe he shouldn't be punished based on his age and, apparently, because he's "on the spectrum". 

People always assume that autism is an excuse for literally anything that person does. The idea that autism keeps people from knowing right from wrong, purple from blue, or up from down, is the most idiotic thing. I've been blessed enough to work with some beautiful souls, while I was working in a special education room. Some of these beautiful souls were autistic, and you will never convince me that autism is equal to stupidity or ignorance. I had one who could beat me at math, puzzles, and Uno. I had another, who didn't speak much, but was the best artist I'd seen. But my biggest argument is... When these kids broke rules, they were corrected, and they learned! 

People make excuses for anything. Here, in Salt Lake City, back in the 80's or 90's, there were two schizophrenics who decided to shoot up buildings. One at the Triad Center, and the other at the LDS church's Family History Library. Both ended with body counts. People actually tried the "They didn't know what they were doing" bull. At least one of the two had the mind to plan it out. They knew exactly what they were doing. It wasn't the illness-- it was the person.

I'm so bloody tired of people making excuses, therefore creating more fear, and/or less understanding. 

So, by the logic of people like this, I, a redhead, have no soul. Or that my twisted legs make it so I can't understand how it feels to be free. Or because I have green eyes, I'm evil. 

This needs to stop, but it never will. Especially these days, when "diversity" reigns, instead of facts.

One Thing After Another

I'm done with today. Maybe tomorrow, too.

Have you ever had something irritating happen, then everything that happens after that just follows the same path? That's me, today.

I went with my mom to go to the car wash, and grab something at McDonald's. While I was using the vacuum at the car wash, I bashed my head while getting into the car. This, in turn, made me absurdly aware of the ice pick trying to come out of my ear.

These two things had me beyond frustrated and annoyed. Then... When we got home, I dropped the McDonald's bag, spilling some fries. Since today is the day Henry decides to finally lift a finger and vacuum the dining room, I couldn't get to the trash bin. He wouldn't move, so I threw the fries in the general direction of the bin, silently praying it interfered with his moment of helpfulness. 

Things that followed were far too infuriating for how minor they were. My phone slid off the couch, I got yet another eyelash in my eye, the soundbar cuts the sound when I change the volume... The list goes on. And on. Aaaaaaannnnnnnd on.

I call times like these my "mini manic moments", because the way I feel, and the way I react to these chains of disasters, is 100% mania. There's no precursor, the irritant only lasts an hour or two, but it is full. blown. mania. 

I'm not in a manic state. My meds are usually just fine. I just get these mini manic moments, every now and then. It doesn't mean I need to up my dose. I simply have to step back, take a breath, take myself out of my own way, and chill. 

It took me years to recognize that this happens, and years more to figure out how to fix myself during these. It's nice to have more control over myself, my feelings, and my actions. 

Blasted Phones

Irritating. No... infuriating.

You know when you go literally anywhere, and you see teenagers "hanging out" with each one with their nose buried in their phone? That's my life with my mom. 

A solid 90% of the day, you can catch her with her nose buried in her phone. When I try to show her something, or, heaven forbid, talk to her, I get a half angry, half sigh, "What?!" What is she doing the other 10% of the day? Word searches, which get me the same reactions. 

Mom, I get that you're retired. I get that you can read or do other things while the TV is on. But do you really have to bury your nose so far into these things, where literally anything I do or say is an annoyance to you? When you were working at the office, you'd get annoyed at Henry (as in Henry VIII, notorious tyrant) in the evening, because he'd talk and talk and talk. Then you justified it with "He doesn't have anyone to talk to during the day". Fun fact: Neither do I! You're it! I can text my friends, but they all have lives, families, jobs, and are between 50 and 2,000 miles away. I'm not attention whore, but it would be nice to actually have a conversation that isn't interrupted by something on your phone.

I know you'll say something to the effect of, "You're on yours, too", but guess what... It's because I have nothing to do! And even at that, I'm on it a solid 75% less than you are!

I'm gonna make you a bet. You can choose to accept, or decide to continue blocking out the real world, like today's teenagers do. Your choice. I bet that you can't go one whole day without Facebook, news, or anything online. Text and phone calls, only.

One. Whole. Day.

24 hours.

No internet.

No Facebook.

Nothing.

One-Way Friendships

I won't make this mistake, again.

I was just thinking about something that I wanted to put out there for anyone who needs to hear it...

Quite a few years ago, my "sister" was cleaning out some of her stuff. One thing she was chucking was a dolphin statue. I had a friend, Kasey, who I hadn't spoken to in a couple years, but I knew likes dolphins. I contacted her, asked her if she wanted it, drove out to her place, and gave it to her. The thanks I got? I got deleted as a friend on Facebook. If you didn't want to be a friend, why the hell did you accept that?! Super person...

A few years later, I bought the full set of "Game of Thrones" books, but wasn't liking them. I knew my friend, Jake, in another state was a big fan. I asked if he wanted them, spent a ridiculous amount to send him the books, and he immediately stopped talking to me. You childish jackass. Do you drop everyone who gives you something?

I've always had a problem with being a giver. I see something, and I'll think of someone I could give it to. That's the difference between me and my "sister", and it's the chief reason we no longer speak. I'm an habitual giver, she's a chronic taker. Apparently she's not the only one.

These so-called friends, showed their true colors, and to be honest, I'm glad they did. I don't need ungrateful assholes in my life. There was a time when I was close to these two, but like so many, they couldn't handle anything outside their "puppies and sunshine" worlds. Even if the person disrupting it was apologizing for past wrongs.

People like this are toxic. If you're unfortunate enough to have one in your life, don't make the mistake of crying when they've left you. They obviously aren't your friends. Take a moment, be sad, then realize how much you're worth. You deserve real friends who treat you with the same kindness that you treat them with.

You are better than these types of people.

Max Level Ignorance

Always the scapegoat...

Every time there's a shooting, people blame one of two things: guns or mental illness. Fun fact: it's neither.

I have a gun. I loaded it, set it on the table, faced it towards me, and I'm still waiting for it to shoot me. I'm beginning to think it's defective...

I have mental illness. I wasn't properly medicated until after I turned 30. I've never even threatened to shoot anyone. I'm beginning to think I don't actually have an illness...

Why have these two things not happened? Because pulling the trigger is a choice.

There are millions upon millions of people suffering with some kind of mental illness. Less than half a percent of that number go on shooting rampages. Blaming mental illness is your ignorant way of trying to create awareness, but in actuality, you're creating more fear. It's not a mental health issue, it a societal issue.

Mental illness AND guns have been around a lot longer than mass shootings. Stop trying to blame them for the lack of self control and anger management, created by the "me first, and always" world we live in, today. People don't know how to deal with someone they disagree with, someone who has hurt their widdle feewings, or someone who simply didn't use their signal before changing lanes.

Stop. Blaming. Mental. Illness.

Pass/Fail

Step one: Pass. Step two: Fail.

As we all know, the first step is to admit you have a problem. The second step is to ask for help. I haven't had a problem with that second step. At least, not in a few years. Today, for the third time in a row, I chickened out.

Thanks to the constant, relentless abuse from the narcissist, the king narc, specifically, I have a serious problem when it comes to expressing anger in a psychologically healthy way. Whenever I'd get angry (which happened quite a lot when I was a kid), the narc would do one of two things: Make fun of me, so I couldn't get a word out, or spank me. Yes, really. 

This has stuck with me, to this day. Now, when I get angry, I can rant, I can write, but I literally shake the whole time, and it can take weeks to really get over it. However, the hardest part is when someone is taking their anger out on me. 

People suck. Anyone who has been in any kind of customer service position, knows this. Anyone who has been on social media for 0.3 seconds, also knows this. People take their anger and frustration out on the nearest person, or the person they've deemed as having done or said something "wrong". My own theory is that, since I never learned how properly express my own anger, I can't deal with the emotion, as a whole. As some of my friends have been unfortunate enough to see, I usually get super quiet when I'm seriously angry.  I bottle it up. Sometimes there's an eruption, later. Sometimes it just festers inside my mind. Not healthy.

Anyhow, I have a note in my phone, to talk to my therapist about how to process anger like a functioning, healthy adult. I've had it for the last three appointments. That's about six weeks. Every time I see her, she always asks what's going on, and each of these last three appointments, I've chickened out on bringing up what I really need. I get the sentence in my mind, get it into my throat, and what actually comes out is, "Mm. Not much."

I feel like a freaking coward. Why is this so hard to ask? All it takes is a simple, "I need help handling anger better". That's it. That's the dam breaking, letting every single bit of pent-up anger and resentment... Ugh. I don't get it.

I've got to be as brave as I was when I published the very first post, here. Dig my heels into the ground, take a deep breath, and just get it out. That's the only way I'm ever going to get through this.

Sad Excuse For Neighbors

Society is in trouble.

As we all know, 2021 is all about feelings. If you feel something, you're encouraged to act upon that feeling. Unless, of course, you have one of the socially unacceptable, "scary" mental illnesses which are not included in the popular acronym.

When someone's feelings get hurt, every major entity (government, social media, news media, and the like) encourages that person to (over)react, and to subsequently "cancel" the one who hurt their feelings. 

Mind you, nobody was physically injured, no property was damaged, and despite popular belief, you cannot get PTSD when someone disagrees with you, politically. Yet this "victim" is screaming at the top of his or her (because 2) voice that someone hurt their feelings, and quickly gains a riotous mob, determined to destroy the life of someone they've never met, in the name of feelings.

If your feelings are hurt by something someone said, which was not intended to be hurtful directly to you, you are the one with the problem. If someone looks at you, stares into your eyes, and tells you you're stupid/ugly/useless, that's something intended to hurt your feelings. Does this mean that you're allowed to eliminate that person from social media? Can you get that person fired, evict them from their home, and destroy their reputation, based on sore feelings? NO! You are allowed to cry, you are allowed to say something snide in return, you are allowed to blast them on social media.

People absolutely disgust me. 

If you're one of these overly-sensitive wankers, you have a serious problem! You have no idea how to properly process your overly-indulged feelings. This is possibly due to your upbringing, having your parents tell you that "you're allowed to feel this way or that", while not giving you productive ways to work through these feelings. Possibly because you have an underlying mental illness. Or possibly because you're a spoiled brat who needs a belt taken to your tush.

Freedom of speech does not belong to you, and you alone. It belongs to all Americans, even those you disagree with.

Don't be a whiny-ass loser, who needs a binky at the age of 30. Left, right, or right smack dab in the middle... we all get to express ourselves. And yes, we are allowed to do so at one another's expense. We should be free to do this without fear of wimps reporting us, because their feelings got hurt. Being offended is a choice.

America is in danger. Stop it, now, before we fall.

450

It's a milestone... or something.

This is post number 450, if that wasn't clear as mud, already. Lots has happened in the last six years. There's been good, bad, and embarrassingly bad. But, as always, you amazing readers keep me going through it all. Thank you!

Now for the point of this post...

I've been more or less steady for quite some time, now. Yes, I had to up my meds for both my sanity and sleep schedule, but still stable. Enter the amazingly big BUT... as always, things change.

I got a shot called Lupron, which most women, and probably many men, know the basics of. If you don't, look it up, because I'm too lazy to explain it. 

Anyhow, one side effect of Lupron can be depression. Seeing as how I've been chronically manic for quite some time, I thought this would either bring me down enough to lower my Seroquel, or simply be a welcome change. Wanna guess which one happened? Neither. At least, not yet.

I lowered my Seroquel back down to 400mg, but I still feel the darkness creeping inside. And since, when my moods change, I go from manic, to hypo-manic, to depression, I'm in that hypo place where I'm needing something to help me sleep. This helper is, you guessed it... SEROQUEL! 🎵All around the mulberry bush, the lady chased her sanity...🎵  (I know you sang that. Don't lie.)

Anyhow, I've been useless, lately. I walk between one and two miles per day. Total. For the entire day. My cello (I named it Flynn, judge me), has gotten zero love, this week. The piano (simply called the piano) has been touched for maybe 30 minutes total, this week. My Duolingo looks like a Wall Street crash, and I've read so little that I'm not entirely sure what's going on, anymore.

I'm not handling this well. 

Sometimes

Things are different, these days.

I watch a show called Random Acts, where they “do nice things for nice people”. Anyone can nominate someone they feel is deserving of a random act of kindness. The episode I just finished, really hit home with me.

The act was for a young girl, who has a love for aerobatic performing (I guess that’s the term?), who was traumatized by an undisclosed act of bullying. Her father mentioned her having night terrors, and everyone involved noticed that, a once happy child, was withdrawn and not as happy. It happens far too often.

This little girl was able to fight her way back to who she really is, thanks to the fact that she first came forward about what was happening to her. She began being more lively, happy, and had gone back to herself.

I looked at this child, and was actually bitter about my own experiences. But then I remembered... This isn’t the 90’s, anymore. There’s more awareness, more help, more encouragement to come forward. 

My life was pure, unadulterated hell because of certain members of my family, and one POS, who then got her followers to treat me the same. I’m over 30, and I still have night terrors. Yes, I’ve worked on much of my past, and have been able to make it over one mountain after another. But the fact remains, I was treated like, and lead to believe I was, useless, disposable, and not worth anything. Not just outside home, either...

But the thing that really connected me to this girl, was her love of dance and performing. She absolutely shone on that stage! 

For me, growing up, I always say I had two lives: One at school/home/church, and one at dance. Dance was my escape from everything and everyone. Yes, I danced on a team, but these were girls I didn’t know outside that studio (for the most part, anyhow), and therefore weren’t subject to two narcissists’, and POS’s mind-control tactics, so they judged me on who I was, not what these useless humans said I  was.

Yes, many adults knew what was going on, and tried to intervene. My mom tried talking to POS’s useless mom, which went about as well as you’d expect from the wording of this sentence. One of my teachers actually pulled POS aside, once, stared her in the face, and said, “I don’t like you”. But there wasn’t the help there is today.

Example: When I was in fourth grade, the Cracker Jack school psychologist decided that I was, in fact, the problem, stating that it was me who couldn’t get along with them. Yes, really. Her solution was to sit me in her office, and leave me there, all day long, for weeks on end, while giving me my schoolwork with no instruction or help. I didn’t get to go to recess, or even lunch. I was in there the entire day. I was being punished for being bullied. And POS got away with it.

Things she, my so-called sister, and the jackass narcissist have done, still haunt me. Jackass is probably the entire reason that, to this day, I can’t stand up for myself. Princess narcissist is the reason I’m super self-conscious about literally every move I make (“your handwriting is ugly”, “your face is making ugly looks”, “you can’t like that”, “that’s stupid that you do this”), and POS is the reason I have some serious trust issues. 

The funny thing about trauma from bullying is that, it’s that you remember; the people who defended you; the good times you had, even with them existing; every waking moment that they weren’t there to torture you... Those memories don’t stick. I can remember almost everything these useless humans have said, but the good times without them... Those memories are more sparse.

I’m glad there’s the help there is, today! And I’m thankful for the therapists I’ve had, who have helped me get to where I’m at! Trauma is permanent. Fact. But it doesn’t have to control your life, forever.

Discouraged

**SIGH**

It’s a well-known fact that I’ve not been good at keeping jobs over the last ten years. I honestly can’t even remember the vast majority of the jobs I’ve had, as most of them ended within just two weeks. However... Things have changed, for me, in the last year. Changed to the point of looking for full-time work.

I spend hours a day, just looking through job sites, as well as filling out applications on company sites. Of the, give or take, hundred jobs I’ve applied for, I’ve got just five interviews. They’ve all ended with the polite, if not damning, “We have a few more interviews to get through. We will let you know by the end of next week”. Anyone who has ever heard that, knows that that is code for, “We don’t want you, and we’re not going to call you. We just say this for politeness sake”.

It’s incredibly discouraging. Not working is a massive blow to my self-worth. Especially now that I’m ready to take the dive into functioning adulthood. I feel like this is definitely a step I’m ready to make, after spending years working on better managing my symptoms, and getting proper medications. Yes, I’m odd, but I’m fully capable of working. I want nothing more than for the right people, and the right job, to give me a chance! 

So, I guess the search for the proverbial needle in the haystack continues. As does the steady decline of my mental state, with each and every “no”.

Blown Away

Faith in humanity: restored!

So, long story short, my mom lives in a dump, and it’s 110% her husband’s fault. The two biggest problems upstairs are the kitchen floor and the master shower. “Awful” doesn’t even begin to describe them. No joke, this house should be condemned.

Anyhow, I decided to start a GoFundMe, since mom has no financial way of fixing these disaster zones. In twenty-four hours, it raised $240, and I’ve had no less than a dozen complete strangers offer their time and expertise! I’m blown away by the kindnesses people can do! These offers and donations have proven to me that, the real world is far from the negativity, hate, and general crap that social media has made us believe. People are awesome!

You can read the GoFundMe here (if I can get the link to work...)

GoFundMe for Mom

You may not know my mom, and the description of her in that link doesn’t even begin to explain just who she is. She gives and gives and gives. It’s her turn to have something given to her.

Constant Change Is Here To Stay

That was eye-opening...

Those who have followed my blog for a while (thank you), have probably noticed that I’m not the same person as when I started this, nearly seven years ago. I was going through some old posts, and was actually rather embarrassed at some of them.

Everyone changes. You grow up, your circumstances change, you find out you’ve got one or more mental illnesses. Literally anything can change who you are. Maybe not in massive, life-altering ways, but it happens. Best part is that we don’t always notice the changes in ourselves, unless you really look back.

One of the posts I read was about how I have nothing and no one. Back then, my brain was so foggy with anger, anxiety, and self-pity, that it wouldn’t allow me to see what I had. What I still have. I recently wrote some posts about all my amazing friends (not all of you were in it, but you are all very much appreciated). Those friends have had my back for years, and have never abandoned me. Those are real friends!

So many posts I’ve written have been obsolete for quite a while, now. The ones bemoaning my mania or deep depression, ones talking about how I couldn’t go out by myself, and some seriously heated rants that were far from appropriate (like calling out certain people).

No, I am not the same person I was when I first started this blog. I’m not even the same person I was a year ago. This is a good thing, in my case. It may have taken until my mid-thirties (yes, I’m really that old), but for the first time, in my entire life, I can see the top of this mountain I’ve been climbing. It’s a good feeling. 

Will I ever be “normal”? No. But, let’s face it, there’s no standard definition of normality, anyhow. My goal always has been, and probably will remain so for the foreseeable future, to appear as close to a functioning adult as possible. I’m almost there, but, like any other chronic, lifelong illness, I’ll have to keep treating it for the rest of my life.

Just want to say a giant thank you to all my supporters! Whether you’ve been with me for a month, a year, or the life of this blog, you mean the world to me! It’s you who keep me going! From family, to friends, to total strangers, it’s nice to see you all (in the “views” counter, at least)!

I Give Up

“No more.”— Bad Wolf (Rose) in Day of the Doctor.

Since my initial hearing loss, in September 2018, I’ve been to so many doctors that I’m pretty sure I’ve spent a solid six months’ time in offices and doing tests. Today, that ends.

I have been to ENTs, audiologists, and even a specialist who is supposed to be the best and has seen everything. Nobody has an answers, and nobody is willing to dig into the issue to find one. They’ve checked for holes, tumors, and even blood pressure, but there’s no answer.

As my friend put it, this is “... depressing, aggravating, and demoralizing...” Perfect words, dear friend. This is exactly how I feel.

When something goes wrong in your body, you expect a doctor to fix it. When that can’t be done, it’s beyond frustrating. I’m sure a solid 99.9% of you lovely readers have been through something similar. Maybe it was short-lived, maybe it has become a lifelong mystery. We have all been through trying to solve a health mystery. 

Modern medicine is marvelous, but doesn’t know everything. Despite what we want, sometimes there’s just no answer. The most frustrating part is when a doctor simply gives up, rather than digging deeper. I guess that’s just a TV medicine thing. 

Anyhow, I now have a a journey to take, to help me accept it. I am at the bottom of a cliff, having to climb straight up to find my acceptance. Here’s to learning to rock climb.

A Letter To Judy

Dear Judge Judy, 

Whenever someone does something irrational, you ask questions such as, “Are you on medication?” and “Have you been in a psychiatric facility, in the last six months?” These ignorant questions are a big reason why those who truly suffer can’t be taken seriously in this country. It also makes me wonder: Since you’re a grumpy, argumentative, demanding old bat, are you on the proper medication? 

By your own definition of mental illness, you need to be looking in a mirror when asking your signature questions. You often seem to be shouting at nothing, indicating schizophrenia. 

Example: Someone is explaining something further than you’d like, but since you don’t like it, so you proceed to tap your pen, while continuing to shout “I’m talking! Be quiet! I’ll shut off your mike!” long after that person has silenced.

Also by your own definition of mental illness, you could easily be diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder, simply because you decide to change your mind, after hearing both sides. 

Do you see the faults in these diagnoses? Neither have legitimate symptoms. Symptoms of mental illnesses are often not obvious. Simply shouting at another person, does not mean that that person has an illness which needs medication. 

In conclusion, Judge Judy, you’re a joke of a celebrity. Unfortunately, people look to you for advice, and are getting Cracker Jack notions of law, order, and mental illness.

One Step Back

Not bad, considering I’d gone a hundred steps forward; but still sucky.

A while ago, my med manager had to up my meds. I was on the max dose, but it wasn’t working. My med manager felt comfortable giving me a bit more, which I halved a bit later. It’s been working, and maybe a bit too well. I stopped the extra, about four or five days ago, and now I’m paying for it.

I felt it coming on this morning, but by three o’clock, I was ready to smash my head in with a mallet. **No, that is not a threat. All is well.** Anyone who has ever dealt with symptoms of Bipolar Disorder knows that there aren’t actual words to describe the feelings. We can come close with things like, agitated, irritable, or simply bah, but they don’t even come close to the way it is.

I went out to the store, with my mom, and that’s when it got really bad. Feeling like this, for me, is exacerbated by being around others. Going out in public, having visitors, or even going to see my friends is like giving meth to a sugar glider. It never turns out well. 

The way I feel is beyond words, and the way I want to act is far from appropriate. If I acted on my feelings, I’d be adding to the stigmas that I’m desperately trying to fight. I’d be yelling at everyone who annoyed me; I’d be darting around, changing subjects and ideas like said meth-filled sugar glider; I’d be digging my nails into my head and screaming, trying to make it stop. 

This behavior does nothing to create awareness around mental illness. It perpetuates the “Don’t shoot me, you mentally ill freak” stigmas that the media already spreads. It’s up to us, the real sufferers, to show the world that mental illness is not the same as evil. 

Being aware of your behavior, despite how you feel, can help you more than you think. It’s helped me understand myself, and given me back my self-control. I rule me; my brain does not! It’s not something I learned to do in one go, though. It took years to really be aware of myself. It’s a learning curve, and takes everyone their own time. There’s no time limit on learning. 

Do you, your way.

Pain Killers Suck

No. Just... no.

Yesterday, I went into surgery to get a couple screws removed. They were put in back in 2010, during the major surgery on my leg. These screws got to a point where, when they’d hurt, I couldn’t put weight on it at all, without severe pain. It was time to get them out.

When I woke up in recovery, I thought I was going to die! It hurt like mad! I could hardly breathe, it was so bad! As a result, the nurse, knowing my aversion to opioids, asked if I’d like something for the pain. I didn’t have a choice, because it hurt so bad, so I agreed to take a Percocet, and get half a dose of fentanyl. It didn’t kill all the pain, but it brought it down to tolerable. Kind of...

Opioids are uppers. Just the little I had in me, sent me into an eighteen-hour mania. I didn’t sleep at all, during the night. I did finally get sleep later, today, after the drugs were out of my system.

All I have to say is, I hate opioids. I see their need, but I can’t stand how they make me feel. I’m not in control of myself— they are. Bah!

Anyhow, today has been much better! I’ve had my ice pack on, the times I’ve been awake, and all I’ve had is a couple Tylenol. 

Random post.

Self Diagnosing

It’s dangerous. 

I’m watching a documentary on a missing person, who, in her blogs, said “I’m bipolar”. Again, nobody is bipolar! She continues to say that she found an antidepressant that was working for her. Yeah... anyone with actual Bipolar Disorder, or anyone who knows anything about it, knows that antidepressants make BD intolerable. It sends the sufferer into a spiraling mania, that gets dangerous. So, no, she didn’t have BD.

Thanks to the internet, there’s a ton of people self-diagnosing. Everything from thinking you’ve got COVID, when you actually have a cold, to thinking you’re dying from cancer, when it’s nothing more than a headache. I knew someone who self-diagnosed as having autism, based on a Facebook list of symptoms consisting of things like, being sensitive as a child, having an imagination growing up, and having a sensitive scalp. Ridiculous, as I dare you to find a child who isn’t sensitive, or who doesn’t have a vivid imagination. As for the sensitive scalp... It’s beyond common.

When you use the internet to diagnose your ailments, it does exactly no good, and causes you unnecessary stress. Always, always, ALWAYS see a professional, for any problems you’re having!!! Also, many times, it takes years to get a proper diagnosis. Why? Because your symptoms are going to shift, change, and morph as whatever’s causing you problems will also shift, change, and morph. 

You cannot look up something like Bipolar Disorder, look at the list of usually made-up symptoms, and say for certain that you have it. It’s a dangerous road, and often leads to even worse things.

In school, I knew a girl who insisted that she had BD, but she jumped from psychiatrist to psychiatrist, because they’d eventually say that she didn’t have it. When they told her differently, she’d find a new doctor, because, “He’s wrong”. Best part of it was when she started on lithium. It’s known that lithium can make you lose hair. However, it’s maybe ten more hairs per day, than you’d usually lose. She’d show up to school with systematically shaved lines, going farther and farther back, until she finally shaved her whole head. She did this to get pity and attention. Wanna guess which personality disorder craves pity and attention? Nah, I’ll just tell you... Borderline Personality Disorder! But she kept insisting that she had BD. I haven’t heard from her in years, and it makes me wonder if she’s giving up that disturbing dream of getting that diagnosis, or if she finally got the proper help.

If my point wasn’t clear enough...

Do not use the internet to diagnose yourself! No matter how much you think you know, you cannot properly diagnose something while looking inward. It takes someone on the outside, with the proper education and experience, to see what’s going on!

Deaf

Well this is just super fun...

As some may already know, I started losing my hearing in September, 2018, after I returned from a trip to the UK. Since then, my hearing has deteriorated to (R): severe/profound, and (L): moderate/severe. As much fun as it is, I have hearing aids, so it’s not all deathly silent.

Welp, I had to go have my aids adjusted, last week, and all I have to say is... Ed Sheeran at Wembley is quieter! It’s not like hearing aids make things clearer, at this stage of hearing loss; they simply make things louder. 

Imagine this: a blow horn, at max level, right next to your ear. It’s loud, it’s concussive, but you have zero idea what, if anything, anyone is saying.

It’s beyond painful. So, until I can get them tuned down, I’m on my own. My wrinkled brow, and constant “Eh??” are rather annoying to those trying to talk to me. However, fun fact: It’s much more frustrating to me, than it is for anyone else.

Since this started, back in 2018, I’ve had people legitimately tell me “You don’t look deaf”. Yeah, and you don’t look mentally deficient. My favorites are those who think that I should be able to communicate perfectly well with both the deaf and hearing communities. Another fun fact: One does not learn Sign Language by simply by going deaf, just the same as one cannot communicate with hearing people when they refuse to try talking to a suddenly deaf person. Many hearing people give up when they can’t make their points clear, and most deaf people exclude late-deafened because we’re “too hearing-minded”. 

Basically, late-deafened people are in their own community, which is much smaller than anyone realized. Yes, there’s ALDA, but their resources are slim, and not available everywhere. I live in a capital city, but there are zero ALDA groups, here. I have no idea why I wasted $30 to join them. To get emails about things way outside my area? No. 

If you’re late-deafened, do some serious investigating before joining ALDA. Make sure your $30+ go towards something you can actually  use.

Uncultured

Really? In this day and age?

Why is it that, when some expert or another, meets someone who finds no interest in that expertise, they feel the need to look down on them? Or, better still, when an expert meets someone with a different opinion!

Take, for example, an artist, or an art critic. 

A-“This painting was done by so-and-so, using this medium, and this technique, and is the best example of its age!” 

B-“I don’t care for it.”

A-“*GASP* You uncultured swine!”

So, just because this so-called expert thinks it’s great, that means everyone must like it? This goes for everything. Music, dance, food, home design... Literally everything is subject to personal opinion. Wanna take a guess whose opinion matters, when it comes to your preferences? Yours, and only yours.

Do you like the green couch? Buy it. Can you not stand the gross yellow color of those shirts? Fine. 

When it’s all said and done, no matter how many people have sneered at your home/fashion/food/whatever, as long as you like it, it’s perfect!

I don’t know about the rest of you, but I like what I like, and nobody’s going to bully me into thinking something different. I was relentlessly bullied for the music I like (still am, actually), but I still listen to it. I’m a die hard Hanson fan, have been since the beginning, and absolutely love where they’ve gone with their music! I also adore One Direction! Good music to dance to!

There was one instance where I allowed my “sister” and her husband bully me into putting a shrimp in my mouth. I very nearly threw up. I hate seafood! It smells gross, tastes gross, and has the most disgusting texture. This was a point of amusement for many when I went to England, but I swore that I’d never try it, ever again. The one and only time I submitted to peer pressure, and it taught me all the lessons I needed.

I’m always telling people, “do you, your way”, and I mean it. Not one single person on this planet deserves to not like, and be pressured into liking, anything. Everyone is also allowed to like whatever they dang well like! You are an absolutely unique person! Nobody else like you, on the planet! Even twins are their own person (to the dismay of many parents who like to dress them identically)!

Like I said...

Do you, your way!

Good Intentions

The road to Hell was paved with them...

I’ve got something to say to a friend of mine, but I’m actually afraid to. See, this friend is in a difficult situation, but doesn’t know it. Or should I say she doesn’t see it...

This friend is like a sister to me, and I’m afraid that, if I tell her exactly what’s on my mind, she’ll get super upset, and not talk to me, anymore. But it hurts me to see her go further down this path of darkness, when she really doesn’t have to.

As some readers know, I’m not typically one to keep my fingers tied. I’ve said some things that have hurt others— both necessarily and not. A lot of what I type is feelings, and how certain things and situations are seen, but there are facts, as well. Sometimes, these get meshed together into an emotional, fact-based post (such as my recent post titled “Useless”). These types of posts tend to be over-the-top with insults, and/or overly-dramatic appreciation. Either way, my words tend to have more of an impact than I intend.

I wrote what I’d say to her, in a note, but have reservations about sending it. It’s written straightforward, no prancing around the truth. This friend is one of the most understanding people on the planet, and even when I’ve been an absolute beast to her, she’s stuck by me. However, this isn’t about me— it’s about her, and how her situation is an absolutely awful one. 

I’m a fair writer, but what I mean doesn’t always come out in the nicest of ways. So, I call on you, my wonderful readers, to give me some advice. Should I send it? Should I not? Is there a better way to tell someone that their situation needs to change? 

Twitter readers, feel free to message me.

Facebook peeps, comments or private messages.

Many thanks!

I Repeat

Still a pet peeve of mine...

Recently, I’ve had two people tell me stories of bad behavior, and justify it by saying “they’re bipolar”. Let me make this perfectly clear...

NOBODY IS BIPOLAR!!!

Bipolar Disorder (usually shortened to simply, Bipolar), is a devastating disorder, which is much more difficult for the sufferer than it is for those around. 

Riddle me this: Would you say, “You’re Covid-19”? How about “You’re epilepsy”? No. You’d say “You have (insert illness of choice)”. Therefore, the unfortunate have Bipolar, we are not the disorder, itself.

Granted, there’s no “-ic” word to describe a person suffering with Bipolar Disorder, as there are for other diseases (diabetic, schizophrenic, hypochondriac, etc), but it’s still not alright to use mental illness justify poor behavior. It just perpetuates the stigmas that most of us are tirelessly fighting. Would you allow a person with a cold to treat you poorly? How about someone with cancer?

POOR BEHAVIOR IS NOT JUSTIFIED. EVER.

Yes, those of us suffering with this incredibly difficult disorder have a tendency to not always watch what we do and say, but, fun fact: Every single person on this planet, no matter their struggles and trials, has the option of keeping quiet, and/or striving to behave better than one’s mind would dictate.

Your personality cannot become one with your illness. You have to keep them separate, or people will identify you as your illness. Are you an illness, or are you a person?

AGAIN: STOP CALLING PEOPLE “BIPOLAR”, AND STOP USING IT TO JUSTIFY BAD BEHAVIOR!

Useless

What’s the point of you?

Dearest sister and brother-in-law,

Thank you so much for your participation in mom’s retirement festivities. Your financial assistance, as well as all the time you spent setting things up, were greatly appreciated. She especially loved your expressions of congratulations, and interest in her feelings and future plans. You have truly made this new chapter of her life a memorable one.

Was the sarcasm obvious enough? I sure hope so, because these two absolutely useless humans have done exactly none of this. No calls, no texts. Except when mom accidentally dialed her elder daughter, who then called back, and complained about her circumstances, nonstop, during mine and mom’s walk about the neighborhood..

I’m so beyond fed up, that I don’t even have words, anymore. They took $2,000 from mom, which we all know won’t be paid back, then hit the hills! They don’t care about anyone, which seriously pisses me off. Mom has done way more than necessary for all of us, but I’m the only one who feels the need to do anything, for her, in return.

Michone, Bryan... If you even have a gram of humanity left in you, know that you are among the most disgusting people to live in our age. If you want out of the family, fine. But that means you will stop asking for, or accepting, help from one of the kindest women alive.

Selfish

Chronic-takers

“Me, me, me”

Blamed

So done with Karen...

I’ve been at my job for less than two months, and have been reported to management, by customers, twice. Neither time did I do what was reported.

First, someone called and said I’d used curse words to describe a customer. I don’t curse at work. It’s called professionalism. But it still counted as my “first offense”. Today, I get called in because management got a call saying I was speaking against another customer, in a demeaning way. This happened, yes. But, as I told management, I was not the only one involved. But that didn’t seem to matter, as neither of the others were called in. I know exactly why this is, but I’m not going to get into it. This is my “second offense”. 

So, I pose this question to all the Karens in the world: What makes you think it’s okay to make a complaint, without knowing exactly what you heard? Is it “I think I heard a bad word, while the employee was mumbling under her breath, ten feet away”, now? Is that really grounds for endangering someone’s job?!?! 

All I have to say is, I hope someone calls in false accusations to your management, and your job is put in jeopardy. And believe me when I say that I’ll be watching each person, taking names, and keeping perfect records of what I say, and who else is saying the exact same things. 

I’m done being the scapegoat for literally everything. Someone hears something, and suddenly it’s my fault. It’s been this way, my entire life. I’ve been blamed for doing and saying things that I wasn’t even around for, and people think this is okay. 

Example: For a while, I had to have princess narcissist share my bedroom. When she moved back to her room, she blamed me for the clay that had got ground into the carpet... on her side of the room. And this was believed for years by mom and king narc. Wanna guess which one of us played with clay, and which one didn’t ever touch it? Or should I just tell you?

There’s a reason I’m quiet, and have never stood up for myself. It’s because of idiots, just like these, who take someone else’s word for gospel truth, and anything I say is apparently just lies, trying to get myself out of trouble. I’ve lost track of how many things I’ve been blamed for, because it’s been so damn common in my life. 

Masks make it impossible to know who’s talking, unless you are less than a foot away. People damn well better be 150% sure what they’re talking about, before they complain, and putting someone’s job at risk.

People like these, are actually the cause of suicide for many. I totally understand. It gets to a point where you just... give up. Stop trying, because nobody believes you. Yeah, I’ve lied. Many times. Who hasn’t? But when it comes to blaming someone, just to have someone to blame... I hope those people are happy knowing that they’ve not just ended jobs, but lives, as well.

THINK BEFORE YOU SPEAK

Blessed

I am incredibly humbled by the kindness that has been shown to me!

Things are now to a point with the jackass, where I’m hell bent on leaving before I punch it in the throat. With this decision comes some hard ones. With my cello payments, and lesson tuition, I can’t afford anything more than a parking spot at Walmart; and believe me when I tell you that living in my car is definitely an option. So, I put my cello up for sale, and told my teacher I’d have to quit. I was heartsick.

Down and defeated, I had resigned myself to never learning the instrument I’ve loved for so long. Then came this...

My mom texts me, and offers to pay off my cello. At first, I resisted, because she doesn’t have that kind of money. However, she’s allowing me to pay her back. I will do this, gladly, with interest!

The real shock came when I got this text from my teacher: “I like this turn of events! I am perfectly happy to pay it forward… And scholarship you!” Can someone please get my jaw off the floor?

I’ve put in for a full-time spot, at work. Now I just have to pray I get it! So send your prayers and good vibes my way! So much will change, and my life will finally be on the track it should have been on, over a decade ago!

Short post. Just wanted you to know that good people still exist. Be one, accept help from another.

You Have Zero Idea

People really need to stop talking about things they don’t know.

I have a few people who seem to think it’s ok to lecture me on my relationship with father and sister. Things like, “She’s going to be the only family you have, at some point”, and “He really is a good man”. Yes, these people have good intentions, but they only see one molecule of the universe. 

Here’s the truth.

Sibling has bullied me, my entire life. Yes, she’s my only sibling, but she’s the one who has ensured that we have no relationship. It’s her fault, and everyone knows that. “But she would say the same about you.” Yeah, she will. But her excuse is that I’m nothing like her. I don’t act like her, talk like her, dress like her, or anything else she would want. She can’t handle anyone, and I literally mean anyone, who isn’t just like she is. She has tried to change who I am, for as long as I can remember. She also can’t accept that, not everyone will give her things, for all eternity. When someone gets tired of giving, giving, and giving some more, getting nothing in return, she will dispose of them. It’s what she’s always done, and what she will always do. That’s what chronic takers do.

Jackass is a classic representation of narcissism. I heard that, when I wouldn’t eat something at family parties, it would go out and get something I’d like. That’s all fine and good, but I have exactly zero memory of it doing that. Literally the only thing I ever remember it doing for me, is figuring out how to get me my beloved clarinet. I was sixteen. Best part is that, since it retired, it’s got a quadrillion times worse. It’ll go out, pick up a treat, and not think of anyone else. It’s got its crap all over the house, but throws a tantrum if something is moved. It is incredibly condescending, it can’t admit it doesn’t know something (using, instead, “I’m not used to doing that”), and it will take out its own frustrations on me. 

So, good as your intentions may be, you haven’t lived in my house, with these two jackasses, for more than a couple hours. They both put on a good face, when company is around. As soon as company leaves, it’s back to hell. 

Please think twice before telling the victim of bullying or narcissistic abuse, exactly how good of a person the perpetrator is. Especially when you’ve been told, time after time, what that perp is doing. Don’t ever try to convince the victim that, if they’d put in more effort, their relationship with the abuser/bully will get better. You simply have no idea.

I appreciate that you have your amazing relationships with your families, but it’s not something I’ve ever had, or ever will have. Don’t feel badly for me. I’ve got some absolutely amazing friends, who are my chosen family. They say, “blood is thicker than water”. Fun fact: the people you choose to be around, and who choose to be around you... well, that’s a bond stronger than blood. 

Family isn’t based on genetics, it’s based on bonds.

Max Level Stupidity

People will never cease to amuse me with their stupidity.

Living in Utah comes with so many ignorant and sheltered people to laugh at. No, it’s not the norm, as most people would like to believe, but it’s still quite common.

My absolute favorite reaction most people have is actually towards coffee. I don’t drink alcohol (for many reasons I won’t get into), but I do drink coffee. When people smell my coffee, it’s almost like they’re seeing one of those Brazilian jungle tribes— new and foreign and strange. It’s funny.

There are so many people here, mostly members of a certain religion, who know literally nothing outside their church. Again: not the norm. I knew one lady who didn’t even know her neighbor had a dog. Yeah... that dog would bark day and night, and she was two houses down. Hard to miss. There are also those members of that church who can’t identify differing beliefs of other Christian denominations. I’m actually embarrassed for those people. I was raised in that church, but my parents are far more aware (my father being mostly more aware of himself, though). My mom is a representation of the norm for those church members— not all head-in-the-sand.

The reason for this post is because of a car theft I read about. 

As anyone with an ounce of common sense knows, you don’t leave your car running, and unlocked, while you run inside. Not even for thirty seconds. Around here, you’re basically telling criminals that they’re welcome to your $30,000 property. Every single day, there are reports of cars being stolen, thanks to people’s naivety. Every. Single. Day. Why it still happens, well, that’s a mystery that can’t ever be solved. Everyone sees these reports, but somehow think it won’t happen to them. Then, when it does, inevitably happen, they’re baffled and angry. 

I commented on that person’s post, calling out that it was partially their fault (when we all know it was entirely their own fault), and now I’m waiting for the backlash, and accusations of “victim blaming”. Well... when it’s the victim’s fault, then they have to take the blame. Common Sense: 101.

Why did I make a comment that I know will cause drama? Because, dear readers, I’m currently battling a full-blown manic episode. No, mania didn’t compel me to write it; mania took my inhibitions, and threw them in the fire. Mania makes me do and say things that I’d normally bite my tongue on. This time around, I’ve been trying desperately to keep my thoughts to myself, but it has proven to be more difficult than I can handle. I’m actually afraid that I’ll let someone have it, while I’m at work, and I’ll lose my job. I’ve been okay, so far, but keep your fingers crossed! 

No, I will not mention the “terrifying” disorder to anyone, not even my extremely understanding manager. I don’t want it to be a factor in my work. I’ve got more meds, as of tonight, and will continue to do my best.

Ta.

As Close As Sisters

That has a very different meaning to me than it does for most.

A while ago, I told you about the genetically similar human I was forced to call “sister”. She was the type of sister that makes you wonder how I survived childhood. She bullied me as much, if not more than, the kids at school. The worst part about that is, once in a while, she’d be nice to me, then hit harder.

She’s done some absolutely terrible things to me, but the worst, in my book, is something that can’t ever be forgiven.

Christmas 2010. I had had the major surgery on my leg on December 20, and was still is horrific pain on Christmas Day. She and her husband were over, as usual, and it was a nice day (the parts I was awake for, anyhow). That night, and for weeks after, my life was absolute hell.

When I went to take my dose of painkillers, there was a bottle missing. We looked all over, but never found it. They were on my bedside table, so the area they could have fallen to, was rather small. You can probably already guess where this is going...

She never admitted to it, nor do I ever expect her to come clean, but we all know she took them. I had three bottles: Valium, Percocet, and OxyContin. She couldn’t take the Percocet, no... She had to take the Oxy. The stronger of the two pain killers. Yeah... I had just had my leg surgically broken, twisted, had a rod shoved down it, and screws in my ankle and up by my knee. Real comfy.

For the next few weeks, I had to space out what she graciously left me, and the pain had me crying just about all day long. That was the epitome of A- selfishness, and B- addict. 

She subsequently took two more bottles of pain killers, which I didn’t get because I wanted a nice trip. I had some things that were only helped by those, but she thought she needed them more than I did. You know addicts.

No, I will never forgive her for this. Even if she goes to therapy, or some kind of recovery, and she makes amends for every other thing she’s done to me. She left me writhing in agony, because she thought only of herself. As usual.

Mick, I pray you know the kind of pain you me put me through- both physical and mental. And get some help. You need it. Really. For your narcissistic tendencies, if nothing else. Maybe then, you’ll have real friends, instead of people you dispose of when they’ve got tired of giving. Chronic takers aren’t lovable.

One Giant Step For Me-Kind

This really is a day to put on the books!

Today, I did something that I most literally have never done, before. I woke up, entirely intent that I didn’t want to go to work today. Since my very first job, thoughts like this have won, and I wouldn’t go to work. This was a day of immense change.

Despite not wanting to go, I got up, got dressed, and got to work. Just forty minutes into my day, I was beyond done. I wanted to get out of there, go home, and go back to bed. For the first time in my life, I pushed those thoughts from my mind, and made it through my entire shift! Granted, my shift is just four hours, but that’s never stopped my brain from winning, as I would talk myself out of a two-hour shift at one job. Gotta say, I’m pretty proud of myself, today.

Those four hours passed about as well as a kidney stone, and I was counting every single minute, but I was there! And what’s more, I did things, all by myself, which I’d not been confident on, up until today! I’m actually learning my job! No, I’m not totally independent, but there are no less than sixty million things to know. But learning some of the more common and basic functions, is rather a boost to my confidence and self-esteem!

I still can’t believe how far I’ve come! Three years ago, I needed someone to go with me to get the freaking mail. No joke. I’m surprising myself on a daily basis! 

I’m walking proof that anything is possible. I promise you, if you really want something, and you put in the work to get there, nothing can stop you! I’ve wanted steady employment for years, and now, I’m succeeding! 

Do not, under any circumstances, judge your journey on mine or anyone else’s. Your recovery, your journey, your life, your way.

2021

Happy New Year!!!

Last year, I posted about not having the traditional new year resolutions, because, when I fail at those, I feel like a total failure. I didn’t make resolutions last year, and I won’t this year. This year, I will make a goal.

As some may know, I’ve had a ridiculously hard time with employment since 2011. I’d get a good job, but something would happen, and I’d freak out. This lead to so many quit jobs that, I frankly can’t even remember how many, let alone the where’s and when’s. Things changed in 2020.

In October, I got a job that I absolutely loved, but couldn’t keep. It was constantly walking, running, and kneeling. Thanks to the lovely movement disorder that mainly affects my left foot, the pain was too much. After just a month, I injured my knee to a point of having to take leave. During that leave, I found a good job which wouldn’t require anywhere near the amount of walking. Here’s where the changes are really noticeable...

Fun fact: I do not now, nor have I ever, dealt well with angry people. Dealing with people, in general, is quite difficult, but when someone starts getting angry, I shut down. You can thank the sad excuse of a father I was cursed with... Anyhow, I’ve had to deal with some serious nightmares, but I’m still there. Four weeks, and only freaked out once! Even at that, the freak-out wasn’t career-ending! Pretty proud of myself.

So, my goal, this year, is to make it until the end of March. If I can keep working until the end of March, then I’ll push it out to the end of July... the end of November... so on, and so forth. 

I saw my therapist yesterday, who, as usual, asked how I thought I was doing. For the very first time in my life, I could say that I’m doing well! Even before the disaster of 2011, I couldn’t say I was doing well— at all— because my moods were far from controlled, and the way I treated people... I’m ashamed of myself. 

Now that things have pulled a total 180, I actually have hope that I’ll be able to get, and maintain, full-time employment! This has never happened! I’m not going to jump into the deep end, just yet. I’m going to keep my part-time status for at least a year, and hopefully grow within my company, to get that full-time trophy. Yes, in my world, full-time employment would be a trophy. In my life, employment— at all, and in any form— has been a competition between my illness and my stubborn desire to be better than it is.

 Anyhow, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: If you are going to make resolutions, this year, make them attainable. Most people, especially those dealing with self-depreciating illnesses, can’t handle failure. It adds to the stress we are already trying to hold up enough to not get crushed. So, instead of saying something like, “I’m going to lose a hundred pounds” or “I’m going to keep my house spotless”, try losing just ten pounds, or making a goal to clean one room each week. But, if you happen to be one of the few who is super motivated, take it on! Do you, your way.

Here’s to a better year!

Time For War

Time for a new flag to fly over this house.

My mom is so far gone, that she no longer even mentions that something it has done, is inconvenient for her and myself. She is so afraid of its tantrums, that she keeps her mouth shut. That is, until I challenge whatever is going on. Then she gets angry, and yells that she doesn’t want to be in the middle. So... you’ll take the side of the overly-controlling jackass, just to avoid its wrath, but you’re fine taking it out on me? Remind me why I fight for you, again...

This most recent battle is because of the ever-increasing laziness of the jackass. It is too lazy to open the cupboard, reach up, grab what it needs, and close the cupboard, so it has to have a special bowl of these things on the counter. The counter which it continually screams "MUST BE KEPT CLEAR!!!!!" But that only applies to jackasses. One day, very soon, it will learn what I will do to fight back.

As I’ve mentioned before, if you indulge someone’s personality disorder, it does so much more damage than you could imagine. You cannot tolerate even the tiniest behaviors, or you wind up in emotional prison. Every single time you think, “It’s not that bad”, is one more step towards total domination. You’ve heard “A journey of a thousand miles, begins with a single step”? It’s the same with personality disorders. For every concession you make, the other gets a step ahead. This goes for all personality disorders.

What happens when you make a single sympathetic comment to an overreaction voiced by a person with Borderline Personality Disorder? You feed the fire, and they will soon expect sympathy for a lost eyelash.

What happens when you allow a hoarder to leave something in the corner “for now”? That person will gradually leave more and more things in places “for now”, until you can’t breathe inside your home.

What happens when you give allowance to a narcissistic demand? All hell breaks loose. Narcissists are far from subtle, and far from capable of compromising. It will take over in less than a week, and it will dig its claws into you so deep, and so fast, that you won’t even notice until someone points it out. I know, you’re thinking, “If it’s that fast, how can someone not notice?” Welp, allow me to use an example... When you get a paper cut on the pad of your finger, you usually notice, but it won’t hurt immediately. Once that hand sanitizer hits it, it’s all you think about. However, no bandaid on earth will release you from the pain and control inflicted by a narcissist.

I will continue to pray for the quick, and extremely painful, death of this sad excuse of a human. That day, I will laugh, and dance, and party. However, I won’t give it a single thought for the rest of my life. It’ll be like having a cancerous tumor removed. Or, for all my Doctor Who nerds, the Narc is like a Silence. 

That’s all. 

Gross

People who do this, absolutely disgust me.

So, her highness (sometimes referred to as a sibling) has been out of a job, because 2020. Long story short, mom found out that princess has been trying to apply for jobs, just using her phone. As we all know, filling out forms on a phone, simply doesn’t work. It takes too long, and hitting one tiny thing wrong, will make you lose everything. So, because of this, my mom offered to buy her a laptop.

Here’s where it gets gross...

My brother-in-law, whom I typically like, came to mom with the laptop they'd chosen. $1,900. For a laptop! Why? Because “It’ll last, and it won’t need updates so soon”. 

Here’s my thoughts: So, instead of buying a cheap-o laptop which, while not fancy, would still connect to the internet, and allow you to create and store a resumé, then, once employed again, buy your own unnecessarily extravagant machine... you choose one that you wouldn’t be able to afford, even with both of you employed? And you think that’s ok? You’d damn well better pay her back every single penny. With 100% interest.

These two are blatantly taking advantage of my mom’s kindness. Beyond taking advantage. It’s disgusting. And they have exactly zero shame. The sad part is, this is far from unusual. They take and take and take, and never give anything in return. It’s happened way too many times, but this is the worst. My mom is finally retiring, next month, so every penny counts. To expect her to pay nearly two thousand dollars is the epitome of exploitation.

This is just one more reason that princess and I will never get along. She’s always been a taker, and I’m a fed-up giver. It’s been this way my entire life, and it’ll never stop. 

When the inevitable happens, and my mom is gone, I want exactly nothing to do with either princess or her adoring subject. I’m done pretending these two humans are any kind of respectable people. 

Beyond inexcusable.

Jerk

People suck.

So, as some of you may know, I started a new job. I’ve been here for almost three weeks. I’ve learned some of the more basic functions, but with as much as there is to know, it’s going to take, like, a year to learn it all. Most people are understanding, but there are those people...

Some jerk just came in, and I could do most of what he wanted, but when it came to something more complicated, he went off, telling me how I don’t know how to do my job. Well, duh! Did you know every tiny thing at your job after just three weeks?!

Then there are the ones who can’t handle dealing with someone who has hearing loss. Oh, the impatience of some people! You think you’re frustrated? I’m a million times more frustrated than you!

Especially during the Christmas season, there are loads of people learning new jobs. There’s not a single working person who hasn’t had to learn a job, and believe me when I tell you that, each job is entirely different from the last. Even if you keep the same title, your new company does things differently. But you already knew that...

Basically, the most simple of human kindnesses doesn’t seem to exist, anymore. If you can’t be kind to those you’ve chosen to do something for you— a cashier, a bank teller, a postal worker— you shouldn’t be going out in public.

To all the absolute jerks in the world, I hope you’re happy with the knowledge that employees do, in fact, talk about you after you’ve left. Not because you’re special, or particularly valuable to our companies, but so we learn. We make fun of you, we make hand gestures that you can’t see, and we all learn to avoid you, so your experience at our companies keeps getting worse and worse. 

Customer service does not mean customer slave.

Stop Begging

We’ve all done it, but we shouldn’t.

When I started this blog, I lost so many “friends”, because they didn’t want to deal with my behavior when it had a name like Bipolar Disorder. They seemed to be alright with it before the diagnosis, though. I guess they fell in with the morons who fear the label...

Welp, a few years ago, I wrote a blog post, directed at some of these people, practically begging them to come back into my life. It was absolutely disgusting. If I could find it, without having to read every single post, I’d delete it. Nobody, and I mean nobody should lower themselves down to the ground, and kiss the feet of people who obviously don’t want to be in their lives.

I know that this is so much easier said than done, but believe me when I tell you that you are worth so much more! For every person who is shallow enough to not want to deal with your illness, there is someone dealing with their own illness, just waiting to meet you! Your kindred spirits will be some of your best friends. People who willfully don’t understand these things, and refuse to stand strong through each of your storms, are not your friends. Those people are beyond shallow— liking you for very few reasons. More often than not, those people are actually using you, and aren’t friends, at all. 

Please understand your worth! You are an absolutely incredible human, who deserves love and real friends! Fighting your own brain, on a daily basis, has proven exactly how strong you are! You’re still here, so your success rate is 100%! Those who refuse to stand by you, well, those are the weakest people in the world. Everything and everyone in their world, has to be puppies and sunshine, because they simply can’t handle darkness and struggle. 

You are strong!

You are worth it!

You are succeeding!

KEEP FIGHTING 

Fighting Back

Will this cause problems? Yes. Will it get the point across? Probably not.

Ok, this post was going to be about fighting a narcissist, but as I wrote the intro, I had other thoughts.

Narcissists will walk all over you, unless you start defending yourself, early on. Don’t get me wrong, they’ll do it, no matter what, but there’s a possibility that they’ll see that you’ve got boundaries. Yes, they’ll push those boundaries, but if you hold strong, you can keep them. The problem comes when it’s a constant, “I don’t mind” from the beginning.

There are loads of things that my mom “doesn’t mind”, which has made it so the jackass doesn’t just walk all over her, it actually twists things into being her fault. Yes, mom will put her foot down, sometimes, but it will then retaliate with some childish tit-for-tat. The best day of my life was when she got so angry with it, that she called it a jackass. Not to its face, of course, but oh... it was glorious!

Ok, so my original idea has now fused with the opening line to make something entirely different, and much more mature. I was going to fight everything it did, but that would make my mom’s life a living hell, because let’s face it, that’s not the best idea, on my part. Don’t get me wrong, I will fight it, and I will win, but maybe just on the important things. 

Example: Today, while I was at work, the jackass used my very expensive, very irreplaceable music stand, as its own personal coaster. Yeah, really. It has been told, thousands of times, that things, like my stand and the piano, are not to have drinks or food on them. Add on its ever-decreasing memory, and we find its crap everywhere. So, I threw it in the trash. I gave it one warning, and one only. From now on, any time I see something on my stand or the piano, it gets chucked.

Because of that piece of excrement, our house wouldn’t even pass for Section 8. There’s more mold than there is wall (in the basement, anyhow...), we’ve only ever painted three rooms, and only two have been done in the last twenty years, and so many other things that would take a year to type out. The jackass is so afraid of change, that it had a panic attack when mom finally put her foot down, and replaced our twenty-five-year-old couch (no actual padding, anymore... just fabric and springs).

Anyhow, should you find yourself trapped by a narcissist, make your boundaries clear, and do not, under any circumstances, allow those to be crossed. 

Crap

Today, I’d like to talk about butts.

As we all know, there are two things that come from butts— wind and crap. The wind may stink, but it doesn’t cause as big a problem as the crap. The wind dissipates fairly quickly, and there’s no need for cleanup, except an air freshener. Crap, on the other hand, is messy, and as some children love to do, it gets smeared, causing major problems.

Why am I talking about bodily functions? Short answer: I’m not. These unattractive things are more than literal— they’re metaphorical. This, readers, is narcissism.

A narcissist is capable of exactly two things when it speaks. It can blow hot air, which stinks, but is fairly tolerable, and is over relatively quickly. This hot air is often aimed at defending its own behaviors, telling someone how great it is, and can usually be ignored. Sometimes, leaving the room, and getting a clean breath, helps to keep going. The hard part is the crap.

Crap can be flushed down the toilet, but only by those who are professional-level when dealing with a narcissist. For those of us who have been emotionally abused by these sad excuses for humans, often find the crap smeared all over. It gets on the walls, in the carpet, but the hardest to clean, is the crap that gets on us. It has become such a part of our identities that, we’re not sure how to get it off, or what to do once it’s finally gone.

This metaphorical crap are things like, feeling like we’re the problem, thinking that their anger is our fault, and backing down to their commands, so as to not incur their wrath. Unfortunately, these feelings aren’t associated with just the narcissist; we continue these patterns within other relationships. Whether it be friendships, romantic relationships, or how we deal with job-related stress, we have been conditioned to think and act the way the narcissist taught us to.

Don’t look in this blog for a way to overcome that, because I have no idea. The farthest I’ve gone in healing is, understanding that, I am a person, I do deserve happiness and love, and I am not what the narcissist taught me to believe I am. If you can get these three thought patterns in your conscious mind, you can start your journey to freedom. 

Healing from narcissistic abuse is not ever going to be complete. It leaves a scar that rivals one from an open heart surgery. And, let’s face it, it really is heart surgery. You have to learn that you are capable, worthy, and not a verbal punching bag.

One piece of advice... Don’t try to speak to, argue with, or attempt to negotiate with a narcissist. They’re called “assholes” for a reason. An ass has no ears, and won’t listen. All it will know is that it feels attacked, and then comes the crap...

Thanks-Getting

Well, this is fun...

Thanksgiving is (usually) a time to gather with family, and share stories, thankfulness, and general happiness. Not in my house.

Today, I’m locked in a house with two of the most insufferable narcissists in history. Her royal highness, often referred to as Know-It-All, hasn’t even looked at me, let alone said so much as a “hello”. She’s going on, and on, and on about how much she knows about this and that. And the reigning narcissist is soaking up every word, despite never listening to, let alone believing, a single work any woman has ever said. Oh, and it keeps going back to the same topics, well after the subject has ended. 

I like maybe ten whole people in my so-called family. Cousins, aunts and uncles... I avoid the vast majority of them. I’ll spare you the reasons, because today is all about the narcissists (or so they’d like to think).

Literally everything is about them. The only reason King Narc said any word of thanks, was so that he got acknowledgment. And Princess Narc won’t shut up long enough to let my mom or me say anything. 

When these two get together, it’s intolerable. Mouths moving, competing for most words said in ten seconds, as well as those two stroking each other’s ego, so as to get it in return.

Princess Narc has been out of work because, well, 2020. Mom asked her about any new leads, and it was “Not many new jobs are posted.” So, I come back with how there are hundreds of new jobs on the sites I use. Her response was to go on about “junk jobs”, insinuating that jobs like mine are below her. I mean, how could I possibly have a “good” job, when I have the audacity to wear jeans?!?! I’ll say this one more time: No, my job isn’t glamorous, regular, or going to make me rich, but I love my job. I don’t care what she, or anyone else, thinks. I’m happy, for the first time in a decade, and nobody is going to make me feel like a lesser being. How many times have we heard the old, “If you like what you do, you’ll never work a day in your life”? Learn that quote, and live it, because it’s true.

I’m writing this, during dinner, counting the seconds until I can lock myself in my room, and be alone. 

But... As this is a day to express our thankfulness, I’m going to make a list. Feel free to share yours, in the comments. I’d love to read them!

- I’m thankful for my mom. She’s always been there, and rarely complains.

- I’m thankful for my aunt Ria, whose sassy-pants attitude is exactly what an aunt should be.

- I’m thankful for the time I got to spend with my dear Uncle Dick before he left us for a much better place.

- I’m thankful for music, and my ability to make it.

- I’m thankful for the job I get to be at. 

- I’m thankful for all my wonderful friends, near and far.

- I’m thankful for my ability to express myself through writing.

- I’m thankful for those family members who support each other, despite differing opinions and beliefs.

- I’m thankful for each experience, good and bad, that allow me to learn.

How’s about you?

Realization And Addition

Sometimes, what I want to say, isn’t what comes out.

My last post was dedicated to my amazing friends; one of whom was not properly described, and many were left out, completely. So, today, I’ll fix that.

Ms K, I am so sorry that I didn’t elaborate on who you are, and why you are amazing! This wonderful woman, who has been by my side for over twenty-five years, is the biggest contradiction. She is the kindest, most soft-spoken woman... until she needs to kick some major tush. She can go from screaming at a bully, to comforting her friend, in a millisecond. She is most definitely not afraid to face any roadblock she comes to. Moving family, home, and life with each military transfer? Conquered. Fighting literally anything? Grand champion! Basically, Wonder Woman in disguise. No lie.

I have quite a few other people I am lucky enough to call friends. No, I’m not best friends with them all, but we all know we’re all there for each other.

I’ve got a friend in Ogden, Utah, who is freaking amazing. Beautiful, inside and out, and one of the strongest wills I’ve seen. Empath, mother, friend. 

I have a friend who frankly makes me wicked jealous. In high school, she was a beautiful dancer, and could do anything choreography asked! Now, she’s a computer whiz, kicking butt and taking names!

There’s an awesome woman in a small town, whose husband became a doctor. While he was doing his doctor... training... stuff, she was raising a houseful of boys. They have all boys, still. I’m sure some of you can understand how young boys can be. The way this woman finds humor in absolute disasters... Wow! That’s an incredible trait!

There’s one lady, in particular, who never ceases to amaze me. She can’t have the one thing she wants, but the way she gives back to those who can... I’m in constant awe. We only went to school together for one year, but we still talk.

I have a friend, whom I have been talking with since the days of MySpace, but I’ve never gotten a chance to meet her. The funny part about that is, she even lived right near me for a bit. Anyhow, this mini powerhouse went through a sudden event in her life that she kept standing through. To give you an idea, this woman has over 1,500 Facebook friends. She has affected each one, and thanks to her being a first responder (at least, used to be), has affected thousands more.

Sorry if I didn’t get you in this post. Just know that, even though we don’t talk all the time, I am so blessed to have you as my friend. 

Thank you, all. Thank you for being you.

Great Friends

Good friends aren’t always great friends.

Most of my life, I envied TV and movie characters who have their best friend right there with them, know each other better than they know themselves, and do everything together. No, I don’t have that kind of friends. I’ve got better friends.

There are three amazing women whom I call my closest friends. Not one of them lives in my state, and haven’t for quite some time, but we have never lost contact. That, dear readers, is a great friend.

In chronological order, these amazing examples of true friendship are:

Ms K (sorry, not using names). This beautiful woman came into my life when we were just seven years old. That’s second grade, for my American readers. We had a period of time where we lost contact, but once we found each other again, you wouldn’t have been able to tell that we’d been apart. Not long after we reconnected, she joined the United States Army. There, she met an incredible man (who is career Army, to boot!). Their adorable little family lived in different countries, but we still kept in contact. We’ve held on, despite distances. I’ve only actually been able to be with her, to actually see her, just a handful of times in the last fifteen years, but we’re still besties.

Captain B was in one of my classes in seventh grade. Pretty sure we were both thirteen when we met. Maybe twelve...? Anyhow... After (give or take) twenty-one years, she still surprises me with the absolutely hilarious things that come out of her mouth. This very driven woman has such a way with words. She doesn’t say things the way most people do. She has her own flair that can’t really be described. She’s always known what she wanted, and she worked her tush off to get it. The hardest-working person I know, and I get to call her my friend.

Ms A was in band during our sophomore year of high school. She has got to be the wisest person I know. I mean, when I’m complaining about something, she can see it from an outside viewpoint, and completely change how I look at it. She also has a knack for research, which I probably abuse. Got a question? She’s got the answer. Whether it’s medical, philosophical, or theoretical, she’s up for the challenge. She’s been through a lot, but rarely do I hear her complain. She’s always there, even if just in spirit.

I have known these brave, kind, intelligent women for decades. We don’t finish each other’s sentences, we’ve never shared a wardrobe, but I am tied to each of them with a bond stronger than blood.

I have many other awesome friends, and I hope they know how amazing they are. Each and every person I call my friend, has their own amazing talent, style, and story. No, I will never have TV friendships, but that’s ok, because I’ve got real friends.

Bout Time

Sad, but seriously relieved!

The narc has a 1970 Pontiac GTO. It died in October 2001, and has been sitting in the driveway, ever since. Nineteen years. In those years, a lovely community of moss grew, countless wasps have made a home in mystery spots, and we made a game of finding rusted pieces that had fallen off. The vinyl roof was gone long ago.

Mom and I have been trying to convince it to sell the thing, but always got the response of, “It’s a dream”. Yeah... a dream. Not ever going to be a reality. Ever.

Very suddenly, it decided to sell it. I suck at keeping track of time, but it’s been maybe a month. Today, the classic was taken away. It was sold to a nice guy who is going to fix it up. He even said he’d let us come look at it, and keep track of the renovations! 

This is the car I spent my childhood in. It drove me to and from school, dance classes/performances/competitions, and is what I took my first clarinet home in. Ah... memories. 

Enjoy some pictures of our dear rust-bucket...

And the moss I mentioned...

Double Standards

Do I really need to say what this post is about?

Narcissists are full of double standards. They can do something horrible, but do it to them, and you’re in for it. To clarify, nobody likes having something mean they do, done back to them. Narcissists take this to an extreme.

The most annoying double standard it has, is the way it talks to my mom. It is condescending, rude, and can get as angry as it likes, but mom has to be peaches and cream, or gets a “Don't get so upset”.

Example: Tonight, it put itself in a stressful situation, which would not have happened if a narcissist had any honor to begin with. Mom simply asked if it was coming to eat dinner. Upset, and loud enough for me to hear, it uses the most condescending tone, and words, I’d heard in a while. It was throwing a tantrum because of the situation it put itself in.

Now, let’s turn this around...

A narcissist will needle you, until you give it the response it wants. Not the actual truth, its own truth. So, when asked the exact same question, five straight times, mom will give in, and give it what it wants. Mind you, all she does is sigh. Its response? “Don’t get so upset”.

Bonus that the thing is continuing to lose its memory, making it even angrier if it is told it is being reminded. It won’t go to a doctor, because, well, narcissism keeps it from seeing anything wrong with itself.

Counting the days...

Just Something Fun

Laugh a little!

So, I’ve been doing something that I have found amusing. I go onto Google Street View, and find people. Most of the time, these people look great, but there are a a few gems. Some have some funny looks, others get butchered, stretched, and even find themselves multiple times in one shot.

To these unfortunate souls, thank you for being at the right place, at the wrong time.

I present with no further comments.

**Talk about getting ahead of yourself 😂😂**

Fake Is Fake

“Fake it till you make it”

We’ve all heard the line. It’s overused, and frankly, it’s tired. We’ve heard it from so many people, who all seem to have a PhD in psychology, based on their survival of a hard day. Well, I’m here to tell you that it’s 100% crap.

Do you know what happens when you fake it? You wind up doing far more damage, and not helping yourself, at all. Think of it this way: You’re driving, out in the middle of nowhere. No towns, no other traffic, just you. Suddenly, your car breaks down. What now? Can you fake it till you make it? No. You need both the tools and the knowledge, or you’re just gonna break it further.

I’ve been having a particular difficult time, lately, and I have exactly zero idea why. Literally everything is irritating. No, I’m not manic. I have no other symptoms of mania. I just feel completely done with things.

Today, it seemed as if everything I touched, I dropped. Every time I moved, I smacked some body part into something much harder than I am. I have bruises all over my body, just from today. 

Oh! The best part of today was when I screwed up, not once, but twice. And these screw-ups weren’t minor, no... I went all out for these mistakes. I told my manager what I’d done, and he was entirely unconcerned, except when it came to how I was. I had to laugh when he said I looked like I was going to cry. Yeah... That’s literally how I look all... the... time... 

Anyhow, don’t let people tell you to “fake it till you make it”, because it can, and most definitely will, blow up in your face. If you have a problem, ask a licensed professional for tips and tricks that can help you. Apply those tools every chance you get. I can promise you, though it may take years, with practice, and unfailing willpower, anything is possible. I mean, three years ago, I couldn’t step out on my front porch without someone going with me. Now, I’m working, running my own errands, and actually enjoying life! 

It may take you longer, or it may take you less time. Don’t be in a rush. Healing takes its own sweet time, and your journey is purely your own. Don’t judge your progress based on someone else’s. Do you, your way.

It Sure Is A Day

Can I crawl under the blankets, now?

Today is one of those days where nothing goes right, and everything goes wrong. There’s no middle ground. It’s an extreme. Here I am, on my lunch break at work, and I’m back to contemplating quitting. 

I keep doing this. Something goes wrong, my brain freaks out, and I wind up screwing myself over. Someone says something rude, and my brain goes into overdrive with “Everything sucks”, instead of “Look at all this amazing stuff, compared to the one bad thing”.

This feeling has cost me no less than ten jobs in as many years. Thanks to all the ridicule and useless criticism I got growing up, I don’t take even constructive criticism well. At all. Suddenly, it’s all, “I’m horrible. I do nothing right. Nobody likes me”. 

This is my reality.

I like this job, I really do, but I can’t get my conscious mind to speak to my subconscious mind. Rational thought has no power against irrationality with me. The worst part is not knowing how to fix this. 

I read too much into the negative, blocking out the overwhelming positives.

Awesome...