There are worse things I could do
Than chug eight drinks, do a cutting or two
Even though I know I’m trashy and no good
In a gutter that’s true too
But there are worse things I could do

I could flirt with every pill
Smile at them and test my will
Pour them all around my bed
Make me think I’m better dead
Then refuse to see it through
A total coward that’s true too

I could stay home every night
Wait around for Sanity’s Flight
My Flights are drinking every day
And throwing my life away
On a “me” that won’t come true

Would you hurt if you’re like me
So much hubris, too blind to see
I always steal and forever lie
But can I feel? Do I bother to cry?
These facts I’ll bet you never knew
But to cry in front of you
That’s the worst thing…

…I’d ruin you…


I can no longer do it on my own. Not llike before? I’m going through so much triggerery shit read now, but so what?

Well, it’s a perfect time for an addict (that would be me!) to completely get run over the bandwagon she I feel off it.
I can’t believe it, but I’m going to ask Sweetie GP to put me into a proper Rehab Facility. That is, in case I don’t change my mind in the morning.

But it’s nagging at me. This feeling that I really need help. No more wake up calls, coming too close to whatever harm or danger. I

It’s like an ache in my bones, and if quitting drinking is the only way to stop it, I have to. Otherwise, I’ll be left in perpetual madness.

And you thought drinking was perpetual madness.

The worst madness is it’s completely fucking up my life. That’s a huge sign you need help.

I’m missing appts, by sleeping in other things I should be on top of easily if I wasn’t drinking. Letting “me” disappear.

I can’t function.

I even shit my pants a couple of times not long ago. NEVER have I done THAT in my alcoholic lifetime.

So I guess I need some help this time around. Even if don’t feel so sick.

Actually, it’s been like I’ve been teleported back a bit to my 20s. Undiagnosed Bipolar and the biggest “Functional Alcoholic” ever.

Now with everything else, the triggers, Damocles, an Albatross, even an Anvil around my neck.

This will be fun. Considering I love going into hospital so much. Let’s not forget any waiting lists for proper treatment facilities either.

Okay. Done.

Will WordPress on my mobile FINALLY work?


Let’s write a post.  Maybe an important one too.  Then I’ll try to get to Twitter.  Maybe.  I’ve done a lot today.  How about an email response to my mother.

‘Nuff said?

For someone going through Detox and Withdrawal (again) I know I can’t push myself.  I might slip.  I can’t even believe I’m sitting in my regular pub, drinking a can of pop.  I had to run to the bartender before he started pouring me my drink and putting it on my table as soon as I walked in the door.

Yes, this is kind of like the TV show “Cheers” but definitely an updated version.  For at least two reasons: we all dress better (well most of us…) but we all have MUCH better hair! We ALL have seriously, better hair!

What did I buy? A “Cplus orange BURST!” o.O

I thought it would be rather amusing.  I couldn’t recall drinking one since I was 10-years-old at the most.  It also wasn’t called that back then. Still tastes the same though!

Not drinking sucks.  Well, if you’re an addict, alcoholic, whatever. Especially when I’ve only been sober for THREE FUCKING DAYS AND I CAN MAKE IT OUTSIDE!!! Much worse, all I hear is people ordering drinks.

“Well, PA? Why don’t you go somewhere they don’t serve alcohol?”

THERE IS NO PLACE AROUND ME WHERE THEY DON’T SERVE ALCOHOL!!!

Except for a Public Library (with Internet) but it closes around what? 1700hrs? I mean, just stay home! Continue being a hermit! I’m trying NOT to be a hermit!

I just can’t win…  Kidding.  Total sarcasm.

I had some plans for the summer.  Things to get involved in.  I did! Get my Loser Arse out of the house.  I called and they all take Summer Breaks.  I’m going to have a “Broken Summer.”  Just when I tried?

That’s okay.  I’m literally going to have a “Broken Summer.” I FINALLY found a place for Physiotherapy that is covered by the Stoopid Guvmunt©.  This is a very good thing.

I have been trying to find a decent place for ages! Moreover, the timing is Super-Duper-Absolooper-ImportanTOOper©!

I thought this was only an issue when I was walking too much.  My right ankle (and foot) get so sore!!! Sometimes I’ve even had to wrap it all up in a bandage, elevate, and keep it still in the evening up until bed.  It’s like a killer sprain.

Now? It’s happening every day.  It doesn’t matter how far I go.  Not good.  I’m even watching how I walk and my foot can get all bent.

I have a case of “spazzy foot.”

Nonetheless, fix spazzy foot, get my entire body strong again and maybe a dream fulfilled…? Later on that one.  If I keep blogging and find it a form of “Therapy” too.


Or better put I’M a fucking mess.

I had to bust up a relationship for good when I thought I could really, really be friends–which I have never been able to do.

It hurt too much. But this time it will be different.

But this time it will be different. But this time it will be different. How many times have we all said that.

One brutal thing was that I thought I was ending things but things woman had decided it wasn’t going to work at all.  It wasn’t with malice though. Two people running around in circles trying not to hurt each other.

Saying goodbyes are not my forte. This was known. So it was even harder. Then the egg on my face once I finally got the words out. No upsetting reaction. Just a yes. That would be best. That clued me in.

If you’re having problems in a relationship and trying to work things out, someone just saying out of nowhere they’re leaving would get a different reaction.

Then my fish…well didn’t really die.  He’s very sick so I was watching for signs of deterioration.

Last night he wasn’t really swimming and wouldn’t eat. Shit. Always voracious and always moving.

I was more concerned with how he was feeling. What, from being so ill? Even pain too? Of course he couldn’t tell me, but he came straight to the front of the tank, every time I went to talk to him.

His gills would flip even faster than when ever getting oxygen or anything else. My baby was one happy fish. And I was one proud Mommy.

I’ve seriously fallen off the wagon. I’ve been drinking every day, not caring how much. I’m smoking too. Less than the drinking but I still can’t do it.

I did a cutting last night because of everything regarding the above. I haven’t done a cutting in so long. I actually have to stop typing soon as it hurts.

I didn’t even get to sleep. That was great as well.

Now it’s back to withdrawal/detox hell. That will be great as well. Uh, no. I deserve it though.

There’s gonna be a lot of bed and a lot of sickness around here for a while. I feel like I’m sitting in the middle of a Chernobyl but it’s of my life, not just relationships.

And I’m just a confused little child.


Infanticide.

He got just too sick.

*crying*

Who cares what the fuck Category?


What the fuck is it with me and relationships?

Hiroshima?

Maybe Chernobyl. *nods*

Like I’ve had a decent one in real life in how many years? Uh.  Never mind.  But hey! We’re in “the digitital age!”

Why the fuck did I recently hop on an online Dating Site? I have no answer to that.  Except stupidity.  Maybe lonely, stupidity? Probably, Amnesiac Chernobyl Lonely Confused Hermit Stupidity.

Maybe?

Met LDR.  Won’t get into details but sure, looking good.  And I knew the hazards of LDRs. 

Wonderful woman.  It didn’t work out but that’s okay.

I crash and burn with EVERY relationship I’ve ever had.  And after it being so long since my last?

‘Nuff said.

Single.Forever.


I have been wanting these forever.  They would have cost me hundreds of dollars.  They just kept being put on the back burner because my body kept falling apart.  These “things” and what I hoped they would reveal, related to almost 100 years ago.  Long before my body started decided started to fall apart.  That’s the loss of the Clobazam story.

I was “just fine” that 100 years ago…  Letting all that frustration out with a 2L bottle of Red Wine, a lot of bottles of pills full and shiny and new.  Pick what you’d like but you’re too tired so you just grab the ones that are close enough.

…handful…gulp…handful…gulp…

The ANSWER!!! No money! Doctors don’t have to pay a penny to get a patient’s records transferred from anywhere! All I had to do was scrawl my signature on a Release Form.  And so I did.

From the above, it’s pretty obvious I attempted suicide.  I even landed in the ICU for a few days. I also developed a MASSIVE TBI. I also developed SEVERE ANTEROGRADE AND RETROGRADE AMNESIA.  Although I don’t think that’s so much to do with the MASSIVE TBI.  I think it’s more to do with the MASSIVE OVERDOSE OF MY MEDS.

Or both.

Today I picked up what they sent from Sweetie GPs Office.  She wasn’t in but it didn’t matter.  I just got them to make me copies. However, it might matter now.  There might be enough holes in all the paperwork as in my head surrounding it.

I’ve been staring at the pages forever, and now I’ve had a chance to do some preliminary research on what the hell I did to myself. Not to mention a few of the cascading events that took me (further) into a downward spiral?

HOLY SHIT.

I haven’t had time to go over all of my labs.  A lot more complicated, but there were even levels of a drug in me that I wasn’t taking anymore! That’s just one insane thing! I don’t even know if I should go on! It’s the Depakene I quit.  I quit it a long time ago, until I decided to leave this shitty-assed, fuck me over any way you want to, I don’t care world.

At least that’s how I saw it at the time.

I was found outside in the winter with no coat and my body temperature was 33.8 degrees Celsius.  I figured out days later how I fell (seizure) due to clothes and injury on hands and it was a tonic-clonic (TBI.)  Presumably a Complex-partial first because what the hell was I doing wandering around without my coat in the freezing snow?

Found totally unresponsive.  I must have been breathing though (at the hospital.)  I could have already been a coma when the Paramedics picked me up but still breathing.  However, in the ER, it said I had a Complex partial and a tonic clonic when admitted. I’m confused but I’m unconscious for both anyway?

So, I guess then I took an absolute nosedive? Sorry, bad pun for a TBI…  Immediate 7.5 Endotrachial Tube and BANG! Straight to the ICU and get a machine to breathe for me.

If you know the Glasgow Coma Scale (sorry, too tired to give you a link) I was already a 3 IN the ER! That’s why I’m kinda thinking I was already in a coma when they picked me up.  Or I was pretty damn close to losing it–because I lost it in the ER.

I’ll just add this in before I “go.”  I couldn’t believe it when I read it. I was SO FUCKED UP they had to call the Poison Control Centre for a consultation.  An actual medical consultation.  Not a rinse your eyes, drink milk and go to the ER consultation.  A bloody Hospital calling Poison Control.

Oh, and my heart got really messed up too.  It required extremely, vigilant monitoring in case it stopped.

Kids, don’t do this at home.

Or anywhere.

It’s not a pleasant thing to go through.  Even now that I’ve gotten these records to “help” me? They’ve only increased my memory loss and made me MORE confused.


Okay.  Yes.  There it is.

If I don’t post this now, immediately after everything has disappeared, blown up, said, “See ya! Cry me a river, build me a bridge and get over it!”

…waiting to post this would NOT be a good idea. Also, I should grab my Senns to listen to tunes on baby.  Waking up everyone on my floor with “break up music” would NOT be a good idea either.

I’m actually okay with it.  It’s just the DrAmArAmthat came along with it, because of the nature of the relationship it was (specifically) and then of course how the other person factored in to it–NOT that she caused any DrAmA.  

Well, okay.  Let’s be real.  There’s always DrAmA.  However, when you break up with someone?

WHAT’S THE NUMBER ONE RULE?

THE MOST IMPORTANT THING!

GO FOR THE JUGULAR!!!

AHEM.

PEOPLE! ARE YOU SAVAGES???

The correct answer to the question if any of you even remember *straightens glasses* is this: When you break up with someone, what is the NUMBER ONE RULE? Somebody breaks up with you, you break up with somebody else, an entire relationship in your life goes…

COMPLETELY ROYAL,TOTALLY OUT OF CONTROL SAVAGALLY!!!

Okay. *removes glasses and sighs while picking up a glass of water*  You’re a tough crowd.  And I don’t mean that in a Charlie Chaplin sort of way.  No.  It would seem that you’re all a bunch of savages from perhaps the Paleolithic Period, have had some horrific relationship endings or both.  Let’s try this one more time.

When you break up with someone, OH FUCK ME ALL TO HELL! PLEASE GIVE ME THE RIGHT ANSWER!!! SOMEONE!!!!  

Helllooo? Does anybody know? Because let me tell ya what!

YOU’RE NOT HELPING! I’M THE ONE WHO JUST ROMANTICALLY CRASHED AND BURNED!!! 

Here’s your obvious answer dimwits! When you break up with someone, whatever, the whole damn thing, what.the.fuck.do.you.do?  Rule Number One.  And to keep it simple stoopid fer y’all, let’s make it the only rule.  Just.One.Rule.

DAMAGE CONTROL!!!

Again, this was a specific type of relationship that honestly? I’d say are about 90% doomed from the start.  But why not go for it? Everyone has their reasons.  What kind of relationship? Can you read my totally trashed head, but more heart, WTF but NOOOOOOO!!! But wait!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Can’t we still…..?……why am I surprised? WAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

L…

D…

R…

Does that clear things up? LDR? Long…Distance…Rel…

Yes.  A Long Distance Relationship (aka LDR) that lasted about three months.  Actually, almost to the date! So you could very well say three months.  Not that it matters.  As an Aspie, I have this “number thing.”  I like things to be all round and even.  It makes me feel all keen and groovy.  Balance and Symmetry is a PA Aspie Gig (or one of them.)

Anyway, like this whole thing was going to work? Have a look again at my completely, impossibly, and in no way researched, thus cannot be proven stats, on how many LDRs actually stay alive.  I rest my case.

No, I don’t rest my case.  The woman knows of my blog.  Maybe this post might give her a little laugh.  She was engrossed in reading it from the start.  For some reason I will never know! *crosses eyes*

It’s just not going to be able to continue due to certain circumstances.  That then places us in a different position.  Or it did.  Would a friendship be possible?

After days and even weeks? I kept chasing my tail (and maybe hers too?) to only come back to the very first answer I had given to her.  Right from the start.  I wanted to change.  I wanted to change every time before.  Too.  Not to say this woman was any less important than them or her or when and that…..

I can try, but I won’t win.  Then nobody wins.  I can’t remain friends with my ex-girlfriends/ex-partners.  I will probably still be in love with them (or if I “think” I’m not–hello unconscious mind!) That actually has happened! o.O

I am GREENGREENGREEN!!! Oh, Wee PA is SO,SO,GREENGREENGREEN!!! Jealous!Jealous!Jealous! 

Not exactly happy about it, but I will admit it.  That’s another hurdle.  Seeing your ex- with someone else and you sit and watch, gagged sometimes, but inside, YOU ARE SCREAMING!!!

WHY HER? WHY NOT ME? I’M STILL HERE? YOU SAID YOU’D COME BACK? 

…oh, yes……she’s very nice……….i’…i’m….i…iii….i’m….vv….very….hhapppy for y…ou.

“Yes, she’s very nice.  I’m very happy for you.” *forces forward awkward smile and forces backward awkward tears*


Really.  This blog is barely alive and a huge spike in traffic on that day.  Well, thank you everybody who’s still on this ship with half a mast (at best.)

I hope to be back on Twitter soon.  It’s messed up my accounts. Maybe because I haven’t used them in so long. o.O

So I’m working that out too.  Maybe we’re at 3/4 mast right now. Not drowning yet though.

Ahoy!

I see her comin’! 

One of her biggest! The biggest she’s got to show then?

Aye.  

She’s still a lady, lads.   But we’ve got to show her nonetheless. It’s we, the ones! It’s we must live, not perish, not die.

Even still, she’s a lady, m’boys.  We’ll treat her well.

Or something like that.  I think I read it somewhere.  In a Fairytail? Where every story has a good ending?


While I was not giving a fuck about my blog (or maybe giving a fuck about it too) who the hell came up with the expression: “A Fool’s Paradise.”

Now, I can be a pretty big fool a lot of the time.  I’ll admit that. However, I’ve never spent any time, in any type of “PaRaDiSe” while being as fooly as possible.

Yeah, yeah.  I get it.  That whole “Ignorance is Bliss” sort of thing, right?

“YOUR HONOUR! I OBJECT!”

…ingorance…foolishness…my chambers…*sighs*

Being ignorant does not mean you’re a fool.  Ditto, vice-versary, Happy Anniversary!

My title? My problem? I was both.  I’m STILL both!

By not giving a fuck about my blog (ignorance) and giving a fuck and worrying and not checking things, paying attention (foolish) I’m drowning in a tsunami of an Inbox.  A monumental tsunami. That monumental tsunami being more monumental than it always is.

Moreover, my mobile has syncing problems. *shrieks in frustration entire building hears*  Due to that, I can miss a lot of things.  They can come in later–or they bloody damn well should! Things can get even more sneaky! If I’m on baby MacBook with one specific email account, I won’t get notifications for it on my mobile.  Well, I might? I’m not sure.

Samsung? All of your employees can shove every product you have ever made and shove them up your shit covered asses ALL AT ONCE!!!!!!!

My Inbox.  Oh, my god.  Granted, I do find cleaning/clearing out my Inbox a near orgasmic experience, it looks like I’m going to have some multiple orgasms here!

Not that multiple orgasms are bad! Hardly! *smiles and begins to polish Halo*

Just not with my Inbox.

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