Thursday, December 29, 2011

Potential Breaking Point

My head is spinning, I can't stop thinking
I can't control where my mind wanders to
I don't understand, it's getting out of hand
Some peaceful sleep is long overdue

For you see the time, and it feels like a crime
To deprive my body of rest well deserved
Thoughts in my skull, oh anything but dull
I resume the game from an energy reserve

I close these eyes, but to my demise
In this state of mind that's almost impossible to do
Breathe in slow and out, relax to sleep no doubt
But it's not that easy for my body its true

All the sounds are specific, in my ears nearly terrific
The purest form of feeling the realm which I exist
To bottle this serum, inject directly this venom
These thoughts are forced and I can't resist

Will power defeated, my emotions mistreated
So worn out I fathom I look ghostly grim
No earthly potion, seeking the perfect concoction
And witch doctors brews are wearing me thin

A manic's rant.. posted in a support group but I decided to share the entertainment

How does one know their thoughts are racing if they were never slow? What is a normal speed for thoughts? Can we measure it like we do typing? I.guess we could, but we would somehow would have to go into.someones mind while they were thinking.. I have a million dollar idea! I was thinking of creating a detangler solution for hair for ppl who.are tender headed. My daughter has a horrible time when i.detangle her hair bc it hurts so badly on her scalp. I was thinking of taking up knitting for nights like this. Theres a knitting group at the starbucks near where i used to live. I wonder how many of them have bipolar disorder. I wonder how many artist choose to go undiagnosed for the sake of their art... I wonder if they know that u dont have to sacrifice ur artistic mind for the sake of stability. I hate that when i write on my phone instead of the spacebar i.hit th period.. See i.just did it! And again! Ugh.. The little things that bother me.. I.was thinking that one day i will play a trick on my kids whem they get olfer and cover te house in yarn. Not just thrown but actually tie it across the room like to different things! It would look like a mission impossible lazer covered room but w yarn! Lol they would probably have me hospitalized lmao

 No stealing my idea or at least share the profits.. Better yet we can donate it to mental health awareness projects or toys for tots!

a group member asked: what does it feel like when u have so many thoughts?

extremely fast.. like I cant slow down. like just going from my room to the kitchen and back i had about 3 different conversations w myself from here to there and as the hours past it kinda just goes faster but the words haven't merged yet so i'm still ok for the time being..its when the words start to turn to gibberish that i should b worried but that's when i have my thinking language and its fun.. my theory on that is that i have this gibberish that goes on in my head and I can feel what it means but can't translate it into any english language, or spanish for that matter.. but i think thats were some of the anger and rage and irritableness (<~~not a word according to google chrome spell check and apparently neither is "google" Google is tho.) well anyway.. i think that lack of being able to give themselves away to express themselves is why we get so irritable and angry and annoyed at everything so easily.. i think that's why we are so creative.. i mean look at the amount of artist that have bipolar disorder.. creativity is our outlet for us to take out all the thoughts that we are rushing through in our minds and can't translate always into words.. the times that i have put them into words I put them on my blog which u are welcome to go read anytime... its feel free to check it out .. it'll keep u busy if u bother to go through some of it.. i have a lot of post.. sorry I didnt answer ur question.. what it feels like to have so many thoughts at once.. its like a bowl of gulash.. its just a mixture of all these ingredients that to anyone who has never experienced it would look at it and go "eww" but to someone who has experienced it knows how great it can be, but only when made right..if u put the wrong ingredients or go overboard on some seasoning it'll be ruined.. in summary: racing thoughts or whatever u want to call them is like gulash

Friday, December 23, 2011

Day 2 of Brewing

And you breathe the medicine
Breathe and your lung open wide
To welcome the air
That's been choked out of you
And you run rabid in effect
Of what they've given you
For they know not the poison
That they've allowed you to take
And you lose your mind
And laugh out loud
Because no one knows your capable hands
And while some laughed at you
Revenge taste sweet in the end
With blood poured in each stab
And rushing out the door
In new clothes and a car waiting
You jump in and to w friends hiding
Rushing w the rush of doing stupid things
Like being a klepto and not giving a shit
And driving through red lights
In the pouring rain
You're alive again
You crave it all again
You can smell it again
You can taste it again
You want to feel it again
And in time it brews inside of you
And all beware when it's ready

Thursday, December 22, 2011


I've been made fragile, but not made dumb
I've been made different, and sometimes I'm numb
They're all defenses, to hide what they may see
When the demons show out, they scare even me

Because in my head are whirlwinds, like back in Kansas
There's no comparing my anguish, or my stances
From flying high on broom sticks, to being crushed by a house
And melting from water, who I am I still have doubts

I thought I was good, but evils inside me
Simultaneously improbable, none of this can be
So many reasons, to call it all quits
Such deeper reasons, I can't let it win

Sunday, December 18, 2011

You Do Not...You Will Never

You do not understand my tears
Because you have never asked
You do not understand my fears
Because you assume I'm strong
You have never understood my anguish
Because I'm a pro at hiding the truth
You have never known my hurt
Because you are indifferent
You do not understand my mind
Because you never sat and listened
You will never understand me
Because in my shoes you do not fit

Saturday, December 17, 2011

They Love Us

The fantasies become real
And from rooftops we fly
Unknowing that this world
The rules do apply

And as quickly as we laugh
Waterfalls thrash
Into a pool of sorrow
The highs never last

For those that dare
Their love is true
But push we try
To prevent the doom

For all that promise
Empty baskets they fill
But we're bearable
As we drown in pills

Because as long as we hide
They don't have to see
The burning and ache
That lives within me

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Do you Know me?

this is just the beginning of this cycle of mine
feeding the monsters that live in my mind
they thrash at my soul until I submit
and they take me by pieces bit by bit

the voices they shout no matter the day
they scream in my head they won't go away
so loud its deafening can't hear others speak
til the point of no matter I welcome defeat

for they say the cuts heal but scars remind
of the weakness that we have tried to hide
smiles and laughter we gave and we gave
no one suspecting the depths of our graves

sometimes I hear the sound of bells ring
I hear the angels from above sing
I wonder if this day will relief it bring
then shadows come along with the burning

suicide has no guide we live on experience
the sadness that we pour to others oblivious
and when they ask us what's wrong
we ask them what's right
with awkward stares they turn
and walk out of sight

Friday, December 9, 2011

Take These Pills

My soul wants to scream
And my heart wants to ache
But in leiu of this I can't
Because of the pills I take

For my soul wants to scream
And my heart wants to ache
My eyes wish to cry
But I can't for sanity's sake

This soul has been numbed
This heart soley beats
No job they have any longer
Than for my blood's flow to keep

My mind has been melted
Into a goop of apathy
My heart is nothing but a muscle
My soul is a hole filled entity

Monday, December 5, 2011


My passion's my addiction
To be high or low no in between
Reckless behavior I'm not proud of
But nothing else works it seems

I can hide it all away now
Wait til it all heals into scars
This is not all that I'm made of
But relief has me float on stars

Hypnotized as my life drips down
Never enough for me to slip away
The pain others are so afraid of
Keeps me from spiraling insane

They don't seem to understand
Full of anger rage confusion
What have you done to yourself
You're living in delusions

The wounds are getting longer
And soon they'll get deeper
No longer can I release the tears
That used to be my healer

So when I'm numb I hold it in
My smiles the best illusion
Dumbfounded by the paradox
The sting rids me of frustration

I fantasize about it at first
I then become obsessive
Til the thoughts overwhelm
And I can no longer help it

Temporary relief it brings
Instant gratification
Long sleeves in the summer breeze
Theres never a vacation
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Published with Blogger-droid v1.7.4

Friday, December 2, 2011

I know she hates me or thinks little of me what did I do to gain another enemy why does she hate me so much and why do I care because she's always there no matter what she's made her judgement on me because she thinks I'm sort of evil person that doesn't care about other people but I do care sometimes too much and so I have to back off I can't help the way I am sometimes I can but other times it seems I can get carried away and I can't control what I say or do it's like an evil curse to know so many things that you want to say but not be able to control the order in which it comes out and then it just sounds like mashed up gibberish I hate that I am not as smart as I want to be but yet everyone thinks I am I don't see this person they see and doubt I ever will I have no sense in whom I am or who I am it seems like I'm a garbled mess of pieces of my history put together with Elmer's glue waiting for the glue to dry and in the meantime I have it stuck on my fingers and under my nails and there are spots of glue in places where there shouldn't be and little specks of dust and yarn pieces get stuck on it and make what I'm making seem less than perfect because it's so unclean and just when I think it can't get worse the wind takes the paper away and I'm left with the scraps of what I thought was me but instead it's just the leftover pieces of me that no one wants not even me punctuation is important I should have included some in this but in all honesty I don't know where they would fit because this is exactly how my thoughts are running in my head and my hands cannot keep up I keep hitting backspace and delete and hitting wrong keys because my nails are too long and I wish my doctor could see this side of my but I can't show her because she'll think I'm crazy which back before I wouldn't care but now for some reason I crave to be normal and to just blend in and have no one think me any different from the person next to me where once I wanted to stand out I now just with to fade into the background like old wallpaper that no one pays attention to or rather the small piece that is tearing off slowly that no one bothers to fix even they know it's there it just seems to get worse but everyone figures why bother it's not hurting anyone so the tear stays there separating itself from the larger pieces until one day some gets annoyed and tries to fix it by putting glue behind it and slapping it back but the wrinkles form and the imperfection cannot be made perfect cannot can not I hate the word because it should be can not and not cannot because it sounds completely different.
Sometimes it seems I don't know what I mean
For on days like today I can't sit at bay
The waters run rampant wild oh so free
But my thoughts let loose and lose control of me
Nothing's coherent nothing's what it seems
For this scheme I am rhyming sounds like a dream
Still waters are unhealthy for they breed disease
Fresh waves are of plenty for they bring much ease
My writings aren't worthy of publish nor praise
Yet I keep ticking and yet I still amaze
In the end what is is what it's never
And is never is forever
What does it matter
What I do today

Monday, November 28, 2011

Been a Long Time

So between my new rotation at the ER and having 12 hour shifts and the new support group I'm a part of, I haven't really been posting much.  I'm finally feeling like I belong somewhere and it feels pretty great.  I can be myself and not hide anything in worry that someone will freak out or get scared by my thoughts.  It's pretty amazing.  I have honestly made some true friends in such a short period of time that I know genuinely care about me.  Part of me wants to say its too good to be true, but I'm trying to not be so cynical about it.  I've been learning what my triggers are - anxiety and situations that I feel trapped in.  I've always been in denial of being an anxious person because I didn't want to be one of those nervous kind of people.  I wanted to be the type that was always calm and cool under stress.  So when it would happen I would act like I wanted to be in the situation and progressively I think I was inducing a state of hypomania and eventually mania.  I guess I still have a lot to learn about myself, but sometimes I feel like there's nothing wrong with me and I'm just being a hypochondriac.  I have to remind myself of what the world looked like when I was off my meds, that usually does the trick.

I miss dreaming though.  I have always been one to have vivid dreams even if it was just a nap and now I don't remember any of my dreams.  That's probably the biggest part that makes me sad.  Even if they were nightmares they were always in such detail.  I miss my vivid dreams, even if they did border on being hallucinations.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

the Crash

Exotic fulfillment engulfed in wildfires
Smiles across the sun burnt skies
The greater the height we fly higher
Until the chill of reality settles in

And we begin to plummet down
Far into the earth's ground
Until silence is the only sound
That our ears become akin

And the darkness it holds us
Paranoia breaks our trust
Into death's abyss we're thrust
And all we want is out of this skin

Friday, November 18, 2011


Can't Sleep

sweet dreams, with eyes wide open
the darkness of skies and the world dead
thoughts continue to pry of what can happen
and full blown conversations in my head

who do you speak to?
I speak to myself.
who answers your questions?
I have yet to figure it out

Who do you speak to?
I speak to myself
who answers your questions?
demons no doubt

Collided words, explosive disasters
hurricane winds messing with my mind
plethora of plans of said risky behavior
voices they comment with words so unkind

Friday, November 11, 2011

Another Morning

I'm trying to pay more attention to my mood lately.  I still feel numb in that I can't cry if you paid me to.  I can laugh a bit more easily though.  It's confusing if nothing else.  Am I laughing or am I having spurts of hypomania? I can say with certainty that I am feeling depressed, I just don't have the physical effects of being depressed.  I can still laugh at things my kids do and I'm not so quick to be annoyed.  I guess it's safe to say I feel a bit melancholic.  I'm sad.  My baseline right now is sad.

I want to drink.  I want to run wild and crazy and scream and shout and laugh myself into hysteria!  But I've been told that's not normal and I already know it's not socially acceptable.  I miss being hyper, or rather manic.  It feels so great.  I remember wanting to go out and party and hang out with friends.  To be social and friendly, sometimes too friendly.  Apparently that is what happens with people with bipolar disorder.  They miss the manic episodes.  If I could bottle it up I'd make millions.  I think it's already called Ecstasy though.

I self medicated a lot in college. Always looking for that perfect high.  That high I felt when I was manic.  Thankfully, I never found it or I'd probably be an addict a well.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Tidbits of Memory

I can't recall when my first manic episode was because I've always the "hyper" type.  I do remember randomly wanting to go cruising with my best friend at the wheel while I hung out the car window yelling at unsuspecting people on the street.  I remember being to riled up on the inside. Like I was just waiting to burst into pieces if I didn't start yelling at people.  My friends thought nothing of it. I was always weird.  I remember having so much energy I would decide to gear up and just run around my block a few dozen times.  The neighborhood kids never thought twice.

I remember all too well my depressive episodes.  I remember being 16 and at home and wanting to hurt myself.  I took the blade out of my razor.  I cut my wrist.  I watched the blood pour out and just sat there waiting fir my blood to clot.  Once it did, I wrapped it up and carried on as usual.  The next time wasn't so neat.  A few weeks later I took the same razor and began slashing away at my left forearm.  Borderline Personality much?  I was tired.  My whole world felt as though it was crumbling into little pieces and I was trying so hard to keep it together.  I had no reason to be depressed, but I wanted it to end.

The next day, first thing in the morning, I showed two friends.  They didn't hesitate to take me to the counselor.  My counselor called my mom.  My mom took me to a therapist.  My therapist mentioned something about manic depression.  I remember crying a lot and then being dead silent towards him.  Therapy lasted a few months and that was all that was done.  I began self medicating with weed. If I was high, I was allowed to feel happy, or at least not sad.

I wasn't feeling so depressed anymore.  Matter of fact, I was feeling exuberant! At school especially.  I was back to bouncing off walls and going to bed late and waking up early.  Sleep shmeep!  Other times, I kept to myself.  That was the cycle at school and life.  When I was manic, others just saw me as being hyper; when I was depressed, I just kept to myself.  

Wednesday, November 9, 2011


It's day 8 of lamictal (mood stabilizer) and day 8 of being back on my effexor (antidepressant).  I'm watching my husband and kids play with cars and I should feel - something.  I watch them and I know I should feel this warmth inside of happiness and joy but I can only faintly smile.  Is it the medication or is it me?

Last week I wanted to die.  I wouldn't admit it then, but I'll admit it now that I don't feel that way.  I felt useless and hopeless.  I'd scream and cry in the shower so no one could hear me.  I cut myself where no one would see.  I cried like I hadn't cried in what feels like months.

For whatever odd reason, I wish I could cry like I did last week again.  It felt so real.  It's hard to explain.  It's not that I want to be in that place again.  It was miserable and I wouldn't wish it upon anyone, but it was me.  So am I feeling down because I'm still feeling it from last week, or is it the medications numbing me out?  When do the medications end and I begin?

Prisoner's view

New Manic Daze

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

First Time in T&R

"Day 2 of Week 2.  I missed yesterday because I pretty much had a massive panic attack in the am because I was so bloated that my brand new pants didn't fit.  Talk about depressing upon depression.  My excuse to them, I had a massive migraine.  Thankfully, the bloating is gone and I can be on my merry way.

At the prison, only one door is allowed to be opened at one time in any area with more than one door.  (I guess the latter of that sentence was a given, eh?)  Anyway, I can't see how you can ever get accustomed to waiting as someone buzzes you in through a door.  This is especially true when you're in an area with inmates just staring at you because well they have nothing else do to!  

It's my second week and I'm a little more at ease with the signing in and showing my badge to the guards upon entering.  To avoid any awkwardness I say good morning to everyone that I pass.  I know what you're think, "Oh em gee, she is voluntarily saying good morning to STRANGERS??" But to be frank, these people that work here are different.  They're not your everyday strangers!!

So I had a 3 hr break between my stranger comment and now.  I saw 3 inmates in the transfer and receiving area (T&R).  You know how some people just look crazy, or there's something significantly off about them.  Ladies and gentlemen, meet Rodnee.  (The name has been changed of course).  Well, Rodnee is a schizophrenic that sees sparkly silver shineys and hears voices talking to him inside his head.  They don't tell him what to do nor do they criticize.  Matter of fact they help him play cards! Go freaking figure.  Anyway, I mention Rodnee because there was something so "off" about him and I just couldn't pinpoint it out.  Then I realized, he was a child in a grown man's body.  He has been puppy pathetic eyes and looks at you like a terrified kid who's about to get his ass whooped on.  I kid you not, I was hypnotized.  Not in a fatal attraction hypnotized.  More of a I'm sorry life handed you these circumstances type of hypnotized.  If nothing else, I have a rekindled want to work in child psychiatry and get them before they end up like Rodnee.  By the way, because I know you're curious, he is serving time for throwing a rock at a window. It's considered shooting a deadly missile. Yeah I know.

Family Affair

I'm sorry, but I can't stand people who walk around they have bipolar disorder; or that they think they are schizophrenic.  Both those diseases run in my family and there is nothing fun about them.  They are scary when you see someone one day perfectly fine and the next day the entire family is holding a vigil because they have become catatonic.  It's funny because I remember clearly being at my grandmother's house in Puerto Rico and my uncle just sitting in the rocking chair that was on the front porch.  From the couch I could peek through the front door and see him just sit there, completely unaware of the people around him.
"He's in space," my mother reassured me.  Instead of making me calm about what was going on, it just made me more confused.  How could he be in space while sitting on the front porch.  My mom would call his name.  No response.  His older brother would call his name.  Nothing.  My grandmother would sit their crying asking him to please respond, but his mother's tears meant nothing to him.

I'm pretty sure that my uncle is either bipolar or schizophrenic.  I don't know the details but I do know once he snapped and threatened his kids' friends with a knife to get out of his house.  It was late and he had to work early, needless to say, a knife was a bit much; especially given his size at the time.  He was always a strong and in shape.

 He had, what I believe to be, paranoid delusions.  I asked my mom about his behavior and she told me that he swore up and down that when he was in the army he was being persecuted for being of darker complexion.  He attacked a commanding officer because supposedly he was talking trash about my grandmother.  The way my mom made it sound, not that she meant for it, was that he was very paranoid about those outside his family.

From all I gather, he sounds to be more schizophrenic, paranoid type, schizoaffective, which is schizophrenia with a mood disorder, or bipolar with paranoid delusions.  I wish I knew more about the details about him.  I was friends with him on facebook and he deleted me.  Never thought being deleted on facebook would hurt so much.  It just seemed so callous.  It was such a Borderline thing to do.

He deleted me after I got into a fight with my aunt.  It was none of his business and not even that big of a deal, but he deleted me.  I refuse to ask how he's doing now. It may be childish, but hey, it must run in the family.

Monday, October 31, 2011


Sometimes I look like I dont give a damn
These times of disinterest, I need your hand
Because ghost arent all that can haunt me at night
My past it chokes me til I can see heaven's light

And I'm screaming the tears away
Can no one see my anguish and pain
Selfishly thinking I'm pouring out
Just to seek attention, they've no doubt
And I'm screaming the tears away
Clawing at myself trying to numb the pain

You use the eyes of an outsider
Never question what's wrong inside her
She does it to herself, self inflicting the burn
Attention seeking they say, so no heads turn

Opened my eyes in time to realize
Most are as lost, if not worse off than me
Sometimes I wonder I must have found favor
To have made it a midst all these razors

And I'm screaming the tears away
Can no one see my anguish and pain
Selfishly thinking I'm pouring out
Just to seek attention, they've no doubt
And I'm screaming the tears away
Clawing at myself trying to numb the pain
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That is my mother's solution to my depression, get motivated. Its as pointless as telling someone with aortic stenosis to stop getting dizzy. She means well I am sure, I just wish she had a clue. I wish I didn't get so pissed off at her. I have to keep reminding myself that she means well, and that is not am easy thing to do.

I am sitting on the swing that is in the back porch, blogging from my phone. I wish I had something poignant to say, but in all honesty I just feel empty, guilty, and a bit bitter. I see people around me get through ups and downs and not have much change in their life. They do not have to deal with the regret of their thouht content. They probably do not even know that there is content separate from their thoughts.

Are you currently suicidal? No. Have you recently? That is not an easy question to answer. You see, I'm never suicidal, but I think of my death quite often. I will state time and time again, if it were not for my kids and my fear of what my death would do to them, I would have attempted it by now.

My four angels, my reason for living. My babies. And, as life would have it, I've become quite attached to my hubby. It took a long time for me to believe that he loves me, and now that I do, he gets put into the equation of guilt as well. My parents I'm sure would feel horrible if I were to die, but I can't say I really care. Its good for them that I grew up fearing death more than life. Maybe I have developed Borderline PD.

I was not always like this, you know. I was a happy kid, or so I've been told. Pictures don't lie; then again its just a snapshot of a single moment. I was pretty aware of myself as being an individual at a very young age. I can only assume that I could have easily lied to a camera with a simple "cheese."
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In the Shower

Overly sensitive? Possibly.  Lately people's comments to my stuff on facebook was as bad as being stabbed in the trachea with a red hot blade.  Why?  I know why, but whatever.  Not posting on facebook is my own way of self harm I guess.  Kind of like when an inmate refuses to take their insulin because they're pissed at a CO.  They're not hurting anyone, but it gives a sense of control of sorts.  I wish I wasn't so scared to write my unfiltered thoughts.  The thoughts I have when I'm screaming and crying in the shower.  The thoughts I have when I fantasize about my razor.  Yeah, those thoughts.  It's not a cry for help.  I write because I can only listen to my voices for so long.  If I'm dictating to myself at least everything is more controlled.  The thoughts aren't so left field and the end product doesn't leave me feeling as guilty.

I wonder what people think of me.  She writes to get attention, all she wants is attention.  Maybe that's true, then again, maybe they can just go fuck themselves.

I can't afford to dress my kids up for Halloween and it sucks.  I feel even worse because I know hubby feels ever worse about it.  You see how easily I can go into a cycle?  I have an appointment today with a new doctor today.  I'm hoping just get all the bullshit straightened out in my head.  Even if it does mean taking more or new meds.  I hate how I feel on them, but at least I can function.  And at least I can look at my kids without crying or yelling.  If chemical restraints are what is necessary to be a "healthy" mom for my kids, then so be it.

I should also say goodbye.  Once I start on meds again, the writing has a tendency to slow down if not stop entirely.  
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Diva's Challenge #46 - Halloweenangle

Funds are low so I had to use a blue ink pen.. nonetheless, Happy Halloween!

Sunday, October 30, 2011

I Sing

All these recordings, Playing in my head
All these recordings, Wishing me dead

All of these voices, Trampling my mind
All of these voices, Words so unkind

I sing of suicide
I sing of mental death
I sing of anxieties
I sing of a life depressed

I can sing of all the anguish that my life brings me down
I'm walking across the stage, waiting for the water to drown

all of these souls
all of them grieve
hear them clearly
as I breathe

Chances gone
never to be found
Nothing but this darkness
is what surrounds

I sing of suicide
I sing of a mental death
I sing of anxieties
Of the ghosts that keep me depressed

All these recorded, thoughts float inside
All these years, but the cure did subside
Take these pills, swallow them whole
Just to be normal, here and at home

Friday, October 28, 2011

This is My Story, For You

Today was very difficult for me.  A woman came at lunch to speak about domestic violence and it took every ounce of my being to not break down and cry in front of everyone.  It's been over 3 years since I got out, but I'm still haunted by the feelings of fear and inadequacy.  I survived almost 7 years of being in an abusive relationship.  I thought I got out unscathed.  Anytime someone talks about women getting hurt by someone that they are supposed to trust, I break down into tears.  I still have flashbacks of his open hand, of looking in the mirror wondering "will that leave a bruise?"  Wondering, maybe he'll get into a car accident and die today.  I prayed for him to die so I could escape.  I can see how murder seems to be the only way out for some women.  You really pent up a lot of anger and hate towards someone that is supposed to care about you.

My oldest was 4 months old when he first hit me, the yelling and screaming was a daily occurrence by then.  He laughed saying I walked into his closed fist. I WALKED INTO A CLOSED FIST!  And I was in shock. I actually let myself believe that that was what happened.  I felt so ashamed that I ostracized myself from my closest friends.  I didn't know if they saw what he did to me, but I was so scared that they would find out that I was ALLOWING someone to treat me like garbage.  So I stopped hanging out.  Then I started to wonder if anyone even cared.  Why did no one SAY anything?  Was I hiding the abuse that well?

And yes, it did go get to the point that I knew it was abuse, but I was terrified of leaving.  HE'D KILL ME if I ever left.  He threatened any guy I spoke to.  He accused me of trying to hook up with guys behind his back.  And I made up excuse after excuse and convinced myself, if I PRAY HARDER then God will change him.  So I prayed, and prayed and prayed for God to change him.  And I thought that staying would be a testament to my faith.

I was FOOLED.  I was BRAINWASHED. I was TERRIFIED.  Even after I was taken to the hospital and my sweet innocent children saw me with a bloody nose, I tried to make it work out.  And finally I realized that all the praying I was doing for change - it happened.  I CHANGED.  I decided come hell or high water, let him try and kill me if that was what was going to happen.  I WAS DONE.  No more slapping me until I was covered in black and blue.  No more throwing me down the stairs.  No more pinning me down. NO MORE.

Knowing now what it feels like to be in a great relationship where I'm loved and respected makes me even angrier that I allowed anyone to control me the way that I allowed for in the past.  It angers me to the nth degree when I see people that I love and care about be in a relationship that is so similar to what I went through.  To hear the stories that he hit her, he picked her up by her neck, he threatens her, I just want to kidnap them away!  When I cry from the flashbacks, the tears I shed are for them also.  THE TEARS I CRY ARE FOR YOU! If you're reading this, and you think I'm talking about you - I AM.  Get out, GET OUT!

There is someone that God has for you that will treat YOU LIKE A QUEEN! That would never fathom to raise their voice or hand at you.  That would never insult you, threaten you, or make you feel worthless.  GET OUT while you have a chance.  Don't let the fantasy he feeds fool you like it fooled me for so long.  A real man will not PROMISE you a fantasy, a real man will PROVE it to you.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Diva's Challenge #43- Punzel

the tangle reminded me of a rare flower of sorts, so that's what I attempted to do w it :)

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

The Turtle Suit Cure and "Tad"

Suicide Protection Gown and Blanket
When an inmate is suicidal, they are admitted into the Y-dorms aka Self Harm Observation Section (SHOS).  They are further stripped of their own identity and made so wear a dark green shroud.  Maybe shroud is the wrong word.  Imagine a dark green hospital gown without sleeves and is somehow padded.  In order to wear it, the turtle suit must be attached by velcro.  (See picture). To add to the comfort of an inmates new living quarters they are given a matching padded blankets and twin sized plastic mattress on the floor.  Like they're not depressed already.  Forget meds, these guys are acutely suicidal.  One inmate was admited to the Y dorms last night and miraculously after one night in that turtle hell he was cured.  When asked how he was feeling, he was just fine and ready to return to general population.  I'm telling you, all you need is a night in a turtle suit to cure you of suicidal tendencies!  His neighboring inmate was not as blessed.

We had two follow ups and an admit today.  I'll tell you about the more interesting case that also let me show off some skills on my psychotropic knowledge.  Let's call him Tad (don't ask, I like the name and it suits him).
It wasn't until his first visit to a juvenile detention center, at age 8, that it was discovered that he was schizophrenic.  He's been in and out of facilities since then.  He presented to us today for severe akathisia, which is a movement disorder side effect of his antipsychotic medication.  He was on such a low dose of antipsychotics because of his movement disorder that he was having active audio visual hallucinations while being interviewed.  I genuinely felt bad for him.  I have no clue what he did to arrive at the prison, nor do I really care.  I did care however that the residents were contemplating on giving him a new medication to control his movements not realizing that a side effect of it was to cause or worsen psychosis!  So yes, I said something to that effect.  One resident immediately got out his Synopsis of Psychiatry to look it up for himself and low and behold there it was in black and white.  One point med student.  I continued by making mention of another (cheap formulary) medication that was used to treat the movement disorder that had minimal side effects, a beta blocker.  And yes, it felt great that when they were on the computer googling it they found recommendations stating that a trial a beta blockers be done for akathisia. Two points.

Needless to say, besides flat out falling asleep at my chair this morning even after having coffee, it felt good to show that I knew something and am more than just an observing student.  Also, I look forward to following Tad's case.  Interesting doesn't even scratch the surface on this guy.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Get Out of Jail Free Card

So today was my official first day at the prison. It was full of informational information like, don't get manipulated by someone that's drug seeking aka someone that says that they're a bipolar schizophrenic.  They indeed have instead FOS syndrome -_-.  Though I only observed two inmate/patient encounters, it was not a day without its memorable moments.  Like when one of the attendings asked the Jewish resident about details in the book of Revelations.  The response, "The Jew doesn't know."  That was only one of that many one liner jokes thrown out there today.  I wrote some down, if I remember I'll post them later.

Needless to say, it was quite uncomfortable when I went to get my ID badge.  Having to wait in a large room full of a myriad of convicts in varying degrees of dress (naked to assigned blues) was quite an unnerving experience. Especially when you KNOW they are staring at you and you obviously are walking around like a bumbling idiot because you're so nervous about the place you are in.

Apparently during morning report, we were informed that it's no big deal if you don't remember the inmates that go to the names that you're talking about because afterall "we're in the business of processing human units."  Yes, since this is a reception center (inmates come here from their original destination to their new location) and this is a state prison, were I have learned you lose all sense of self and have all human rights removed.  You are degraded by being yelled at and told when to eat sleep and shit.

The state prison is no joke, and the inmates know this.  You would think that with this much traffic there would be hell broken loose at the drop of a hat.  It's surprisingly organized.  Through the chaos of corrections officers telling inmate to hurry the fuck up and get their shit together, intakers yelling out inmate names as though she were calling cattle to the slaughter, there's a system that works.

As far as the people I'll be working with, well, they are what high school nerds grow up to be.  I mean who works 20 years as an ophthalmologist, retires, goes to law school and then goes into a psych residency? One of the residents, that's who.  The other isn't any better.  He worked as an assistant district attorney, retired and went to med school.  He has children my age.  They are quirky though awkward and they do help the down time go bye.  Can't really complain since they let me bullshit on the computer when I'm bored.

All in all not the worst of first days, but I'm hoping to report back on more excitement.   

Makeup in Prison

So I am contemplating on whether wering makeup to the prison is a bad idea or not. I mean is it vain of me to think that wearing it will really make a difference? Is it not bad enough that I am of the few females already there? This is, if nothing else, definitely a unique experience.
Yesterday, I couldnt help but notice that most of the female staff had something strange about them. Was it a requirement? Or, did their work make them that way? I wish I could give an example, but I cant. It was just that something was a little off about them.

On another note, I actually had a nightmare about my test scores. And some exercise for me to not be afraid of my ex and all the things he could do to hurt me. 337 came up twice in a row in said dream-mare. Also, something w a 4, and fractions like 1/10. Weird.
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Saturday, October 22, 2011

Out of Coma into Nightmare

These are the days that most suck because its when I realize that the only reason I am sane most days is because I'm being medicated.  I ran out of one and stopped another pill.  I want to cry myself into nothingness right now. I don't care about anything else other than my head won't stop spinning and I don't fit into these clothes.  I'm overweight and can't stop thinking about when it all just went downhill.  There was no set anniversary date.  It all just seemed to creep up on me.  The only benefit of not being on any meds right now is that i'm writing and feeling every word that I type.  I'm out of my coma................but what kind of life is this?  Which is the lesser of two evils?  To live with a fake smile to get through each day meanwhile being comatosed, or to be sincerely sad and want the world to stop spinning?  I love them I do, but I am useless to them in this form. I'm useless and nearing the brink of hopeless as well.  I don't want to cry, but I can't help it.  I haven't cried in months.  I haven't felt emotions in months.  I'm back to awake, but the nightmare has just begun.  

Monday, October 17, 2011

Diva's Challenge #44- Tangled on the Inside

Since I have a tendency to go overboard and I am still just learning all the tangles, I decided to try and keep this simple.  I'm happy with the outcome :)

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Happiness Rhymes with Emptiness

Dangerous are the waters of my mind
Dare you touch the skin that lives inside 
Thoughts unbearable in a life so sublime
Only heavy shadows here reside

Hold onto broken promises,
Pieces of truths glued again.
Cutting myself on the remnants,
I'm sorry I'm such a pessimist.
But these words ring loud...
Can't deafen the sound...

Voices in my head, toxins they spread.
Shifting in my seat, and pounding defeat.
In circles I run around, in my ocean underground.
Drowning slowly away, still finding my way.
Out of this skin...
That I'm forced in...

No, I'm not depressed, not living in some emptiness.
Yes, I'm frustrated, happiness is overrated.

Amy for Claudia

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Family Found

I love my family, and by that I don't mean just my husband and kids or even my parents.  I was fortunate enough to be raised with my cousins and just recently I found them all on Facebook.  Thank you technology! If you read my previous post, you know that I've been feeling pretty miserable with my life.  Just dealing with the down effects of having Bipolar Disorder I guess.  Nonetheless, finding my cousin and her siblings was one of the most meaningful times in my life.  It's right up there with giving birth to my monsters.  There's nothing like family to make you feel like you're not the only one in this world.  To share the same bloodline as someone else, there's really no way to explain it.  If you don't have that relationship with someone that is a blood relative I truly feel sorry for you.  Nothing can replace the feeling that no matter how you feel and how ostracized you feel from the rest of the world, you have a group you belong to.  Isn't that what we look for in life anyway? To have a group or place that we feel like we belong in; it is for me.  I just found my missing links and I couldn't be happier.

Diva's Challenge #43- Sunflower Fund

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Thoughts I won't put on my status but will in my blog

Do you ever wonder if your life was a mistake? Like all the good things that you have are actually meant for someone else and you just accidentally got it instead. #Imamistake

I want to stop existing a lot of times, but having my family keeps me here. #suicide

I listen to depressing music when I'm depressed so I can feel more depressed. #wayoflife

I lie to myself on a daily basis. #selfhate

I usually feel really stupid, so I like when I find out I'm smarter than someone.  #insecurenarcissist

There are very few days that pass by that I don't fantasize about cutting myself...again. #cutter

I've been clinically diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder Type I.  I get severely depressed if I'm not on my meds and I have extreme hallucinations of people turning into demons.  #paranoidpsycho

I have no enemies... I wish I did. #selffulfilledprophecy

I want to be a good Christian woman.. but I want to hate people. #confused

I'm scared of being angry at God. #religion

I'm in love with a man that loves me more than I love myself. #selfloathe

Since I can't be thankful, I pretend I am. #fakeittilyoumakeit

I'm ashamed of most of the things on this page. #realme

Friday, October 7, 2011

No Words

And they won't hear you scream
With his hand over me
And you'll clean the bloody mess
And his forgiveness you'll accept
Sweeter words never spoken
Though his hands grasped and choked
And your head hit the stairs
Blacked out you lied there
I can hear my name called now
But no one will hear you shout
Dwindled to no self worth
Belittled to believe the words
Whore idiot stupid fuck
Til the first hand was struck
Upon her face bright lights shine
Those are sirens outside

Thursday, October 6, 2011

In A Box

Stored away is the vast world we once knew
Trying to salvage that time in our youth
Where we didn't dream because life was grand
And sleep was just for the weary at hand

Where water had their magick ways
And we'd dance night into days
And despite all our illnesses
We had no use for their medicines

While they looked in, we looked out
We could walk on wind, we had no doubt
There were never rules but endless truths
In the garden, where Adam never ate Eve's fruit

The smoke we exhaled cleared our eyes
The sand helped welcome each sunrise
Barefoot we each paved the road
Hand in hand we would tread home

And though memories seem a bit askew
That was the life that I once knew
Through fanfares, ballads, and suicides
The past is who I'm left to hide

Each pill swallowed, is a memory erased
Each bottle thrown away, is time replaced
The smiles I own are manufactured
And how I crave to hear their laughter

The Headache

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Blessed Beyond Measure

I'd count my blessings, but there'd be no time
Enough allowed to count them all
I'd show you my fortunes, but you'd need the eyes
To see not what the world gives worth

Because I'm..

Blessed beyond measures
Nothing I own
Compares to the love
That I've been shown
Because the Lord's forgiven
Through His story known
That He pured us of sin
In Him we've grown

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Swallowing Normalcy

My thoughts are under arrest
Found guilty on all charges
Due to my plea of insanity
Imprisoned in their own home
To chaotically bounce off walls
Never to be allowed out
Each swallow of a pill
Is a reminder
of the true cost of normal

Monday, October 3, 2011


She smiles blankly at the sky
Not understanding why people wish to die
When the sun is shining and there's a nice breeze
Why leave earth without a disease?

She smiles at me with that same blank stare
Not knowing I have thoughts I'll never share
She thinks that with a hug all can be healed
So I smile kindly and let her believe

That dreams are full of rainbows and unicorns
and that nightmares are as rare as a leprechaun
That Santa brings toys at Christmas
And that parents stay together forever
That everyone scores straight As
And that no one is teased for being different
That the tooth fairy left her the money
And that innocence can never be destroyed

Her world is perfect
Her world is serene
Who am I to damage
A life so pristine?

Diva's Challenge #42 - Hope

Hope - to expect with confidence. 

Saturday, October 1, 2011

Misery, back from vacation

I'm on clearance

I am restlessly searching for the person everyone sees in me
I'm praying for half the faith they have in me or so it seems
Because everyday it gets harder for me to see
this fantastic person they say resides within me

I am not trying to sell myself short, but I do feel like I'm on clearance

I wake up in the morning
Wondering why has God brought me to another day
I can't sleep at night
For fear of my own thoughts
of negativity
and self hate

I don't want to be this way,
screw the fountain of youth
I'm looking for the fountain of truth
Tell me why am I here
When everyday I want to crawl out of this skin.

Thursday, September 29, 2011

And I am torn, and I am a mishap
And I am not who you think
This pedestal I'm placed on
Is made of paper cups
Soon to be washed away
By the waves of my insecurity
And I am tattered, my edges are undone
This is unammendable