Hi.  Do whatever you want with your Livers or mine.  Mine’s up to me.  And mine?

I blew a week of sobriety tonight.  And Outpatient Group is tomorrow.

I’m still sitting in the bar where at one (recent) point I was drinking (now?) such heavy amounts of alcohol every day.  

Cheese and Rice! I’m so altered, I have my Senns on but I haven’t pumped up iTunes!

Y’see? Okay.  iTunes.  Goth.

Why am I drinking after that week was so goddamn easy? It was!!!

Work in my apartment that took hours.  My neighbourhood? Exactly the title of the song I’m listening to right now: “Wasteland” (by The Mission UK.”)  There’s nothing here.

Except a Public Library.  But the work was done too late.  Closed.  Only one place to go.  Three to four hours to wait to go home…where I drink…all the time…and recently every day, or if it was closed, a place across the street.

I brought books, notebooks to write…summon the muse…let her summon you…

Within a half hour hour I caved.  But it’s worse.  While I’m typing this to you? I went home.  I smelled my apartment and felt so sick that I was going to be fumigated too…fucking bedbugs…I opened the window, grabbed baby MacBook and headed right back to the pub.

Now I’m over limit.

I’d rather drink until I fall down…that would take?…well, I’ve had four double Vodkas Neat (i.e. no ice, soda or any of that shit–it’s a sipping drink like whisky.)  So eight drinks? That’s past my limit (limit=three.)  Fuck it.

Genetics.  But as a teenager, always the “good girl.”  Sure, the “initiation” to drinking alcohol for the first time, your first hangover.  You’re a total joke when you look back on yourself.

Enter Bipolar.  Not even knowing I was for about seven years? I could drink most men under the table.  I’m not joking.  That’s why I can sit here and and write a blog post to you.  All calm, treated…no, no…my meds are perfect.  Actually, I mean that.  After SO many years, my cocktail is perfect *takes last ounce of vodka as a shot and heads to bar*

Two more shots=drinks etc. yeah, okay, whatever.  And I’m still here writing.  Does it make sense to you? Still? Maybe it never did from the start.  That’s okay.  It never made any sense to me from the start.

Those years.  Seven? Party.  Go out for lunch with colleagues, then do the same after work.  Alcohol was always downed and drowned.  The first thing out of the mouth I heard when I one of new Manager: “I don’t trust people who don’t drink.”

I partied with friends too.  A wonderful friend always said to me, “It sure helps to sleep fast, doesn’t it, PA?” That was during the Fet. Scene but I drank every day, every night.

There were casualties.  Far too many.

I don’t even know if I was one of them.  If so, surely a lesser one.  That’s how I see it anyway.

Cheers.  And a good song running through my Senns…

“But Not Tonight” by Depeche Mode.

When you AD(H)D Stims kick in hard if they’re the right ones or if they’re going to work at all.  I took my first dose of (then) Concerta and I couldn’t believe it! I had a jaunty little step as this song came up on my iPod (perfect?) and I cried.

That what I might be.  If I’m not already.  If I am, I’ll just become a bigger one. 

Still Comments waiting for responses.  More left will be not forgotten.  They will only take even more time.

I was trying to draw up a schedule of all the things I need to do now.  On a napkin in a bar.  How many times have I said this is the end? No more drinking.  No more smoking.  I can’t even count.

Today (or tonight) is it.  It must be.  I’ll get to why.  The “why” is how the fuck to get the schedule sorted.  I don’t want have a fuck of a clue about the biggest one.

Outpatient Treatment to get me clean or treated and things to do to try and stop, shit like CBT or DBT? Making plans and that garbage.

Goddamn DBT.  I hate that broad and she severely needs to dress better.  I can’t decide which is worse.  Her Treatment Model or her Wardrobe.

So.  My Therapist every two weeks.  The Outpatient Program two days every week.  I desperately need Physio now so who knows heaven or that will bring.

Wednesday and/or Friday best for that, but what will be needed and what will my schedule be for them?

Any doctors appts I can squeeze in probably anywhere.  Am I missing anything? I’m too tired to think.

Partly because I drank so much to give myself a serious Going Away Party.  Music for the party was blasting The Offspring.

But why am I REALLY doing it now?

20 year dream.  And they believe in me.  Even if I can’t do it now.  A Dojo right beside me.  I’ve always wanted my Black but I’ll take any bloody colour now.

Just because I did it.  I made it.  20 years of dicking around, pissing about, and procrastination now biting me hard in the ass.

But if and when I can get stronger.  I can probably do something.

And back to my crazy schedule and being some kind of ghost? I might kill myself trying to do all of this all at once.
Just so you know.

Will WordPress on my mobile FINALLY work?

A few more.






Will WordPress on my mobile FINALLY work?

They’re gonna love me when I go for my appt. for my Addition Treatment. On Tuesday.

“When was your last drink?”

So far, today. I’m sitting here with some of it left. I’ll probably have another. I’m such an asshole. I was doing so well.

Would my last one be the day before the appt.? That might knock their socks off.

It might get me sent straight into a 10-day Detox Program before any Outpatient Program that then, leads to the three week Inpatient Program.

I care and I don’t care. Oh, the smoking too. Excuse me while I go out for one. I really wish the days when you could still smoke in restos and bars.

Back now.

I know I can still get enough of my shit together for a trip on accessible transit to take me to a Graphic Novel and Comic Shop. I forgot I have a bundle of shit to pick up. On hold. I’ll buy more stuff there too.

I need to make a separete Category for GNs. Wow! Neuronal Activity! Except it’s spelled wrong. Not so much Neuronal Activity.

I think I’ve said all I need. You get the picture.

But one final question. Why the fuck do guys always pull at their crotches so much? I keep looking and I never see that they have a hard on.

Unless their dicks are seriously small.

1. My Internet keeps crashing.
2. My HEAD keeps crashing.
3. An older man in the pub is now talking to me. He can’t bring himself to tell me that he’s in love with me, so his heart is crashing.

They’re doing a lot of construction a few blocks away and they keep messing up on the job.

Will WordPress on my mobile FINALLY work?

I think you should all be aware that PA is suffering a fair amount of anxiety at the moment.  That anxiety would be due to her approaching treatment for Addiction.  Also, it would be appropriate for you to know that she has also started smoking again.  She had quit before.

This presents quite another problem.  You should never try to quit multiple Addictive Substances at the same time.  I am doing my best to try and keep her smoking under control.

As far as her alcohol consumption? Oh, dear.  It is like she has reverted back her days in University! Attending many parties before she must, as she sees it, a rather large Guillotine.

I am not doing a very good job in trying to convince her that she should stop doing all of these things.  I really am trying, flapping my flippers all around as much as I can.  She might be alright for a couple of days or so.  I almost feel guilty in my duties.  Am I not flapping enough to get her attention as I should do? Are my flippers not strong enough.

I will keep trying.  I will never abandon her.  It is my purpose, my one and only duty to help and take care of my PA.

Well, what’s really stupid is to type with a touchpad on your mobile–in a moving car.  Accessible Transit to see Therapist.

The really BIG stupid? I’ve told two women something. One was a LDR, bound to fail in a lot of cases but hey! We’re still going to give friendship a shot.

So I’ve told you two women basically the same sort of thing.  I’m backing off, backing out, whatever, because they have “Lives.”

Things that are real and tangible.  Partners, friends, jobs etc.  I have none of these things.  If you put it in that context, then I have no “Life.”

But I get it.  I do.  I totally understand their situations.  I used to have types of “Lives” years ago as well.

In one case, I asked if I was too high maintenance.  Super Duper Full Life (aka LDR.)

In the other, I just made it simple.  My decision, but blunted: “I think…” vs. “I will…”  You know.  One of those types?

And I said it last night.

It’s like waking up with a verbal hangover.©  What I said has been making me feel like me crap, and so guilty ever since I woke up.

PERFECT ANALOGY RIGHT NOW: I’m currently locked out of my Therapist’s Office when it’s always open.

And I need caffeine to somehow Un-STUPID me a little.

I guess my dilemma is, am I hurting these people? In sounding like I’m making some sort of dramatic abandonment of them?

I’m only saying that because of misinterpretation to the max.! And nobody bothering to talk it out.  Plus the English language is ridiculous! Maybe I am hurting them?

But talk it out.  Which is always my preference.  Except the little problem where  I’ve been the one to say I won’t talk.

The other part of the dilemma? Am I actually protecting myself and my own emotions?

Because I don’t do that.  And if that’s what I’m doing, it feels REALLY strange.

And scary.  Because if I’m protecting myself in not talking to them, it feels like I’ve forced them to abandon me by my own hand.  Would you care for a second pretzel with that?

I know it’s not black and white.  Things in life never are.  They can’t be! It goes against the law of nature itself.  Something changes every second you breathe.  Even faster than that!

What am I doing? I just about stormed out of my Therapist’s Office three times. My appointment is over now.

Nothing was getting through her head.  She didn’t sign a form right so that went into the trash.  That was the first explosion of my verbal hangover.©

It was like her ears were stuffed with cotton.  I was too exhausted to keep explaining things.  She’s never like this! Well, I’m pretty fucked up too.

I extremely, hugely, vaguely danced around this business with me: taking care of my emotions or upsetting someone else.  That sort of linked to something else were talking about.

She kept repeating things that I should have done something regarding a problem I had.  It was a big problem, but as above, no damn energy to explain MORE.  Second puke of verbal hangover.©

I just sat staring at paintings on the wall.  Then it hit me! A True Revelation!

I shouted, “We’re all human! We all make mistakes!” Uh, yeah.

There’s a longstanding joke about Aspies and others on the Spectrum going to Therapy.  Google Alexithymia for a start.  That’s one of my problems.

I don’t know how my “Grand Proclamation” fits in with all of this.  I know it probably does somewhere.  That makes me feel a little less Stupidupider.

But one thing my Therapist said made me my ears perk up.  Well, all of me really.  Did I end up becoming her Therapist? Her Priest? No, I don’t think she’s Catholic.

Not strong enough to be counter-transference? I don’t think so.  But when I said that was really sweet a couple of times, she kind of changed her demeanor.

She said she felt like she was “My Protector.”  She didn’t want to see me have to take on everyone’s problems and everything else they had to deal with.

It’s obvious that’s a huge issue for me.  We both know that!

But hearing what she said.  I’m too close to the situation.  Votes.  Counter-transference or not? I don’t care.  No Transference on my side.

She can protect me as much as she wants! When we first met she said how she worked was “very eclectic.”  I knew she was for me and I didn’t need simple Garden Variety.  Focus on my PTSD and Dissociative Amnesia and really crazy stuff.

You can’t find Therapists that can take on that just anywhere.  She’s human.  Maybe because tiny, crazy, wee PA requires extra care.  And maybe it’s something she just feels about wee PA.

I think I can fix what I said to that one woman if it came off wrong now.

Will WordPress on my mobile FINALLY work?

Sorry.  You have to read the Post I wrote before this one.  I can’t break my window.  Even with my MAGLITE.  But that’s not exactly the problem.

I just got a “Like” on it, by someone I really “Like” now.  Both blogging and music is weird.  That is completely redundant and confusing on more than “so many levels.”

Goth tunes are happening now.  I can’t defenestrate at this point. Now way! AWESOME!!!

P.S. Regarding that (on) “so many levels.”  CAN EVERYBODY STOP SAYING “GAME CHANGER!!!” Fer feck’s sake!!! Can’t anybody be original anymore? Even if I’m not sometimes? Bloody hell!

I have Therapy tomorrow.  I’m not looking forward to it.  I think it’s because I’m still drinking and even smoking.  Which I had already quit.

But when some motherfucker not even capable of licking a cunt decently.  Only a cow’s asshole full of shit? An ex-friend like that? And those are just two minor descriptions? Someone that comes back into your life out of nowhere? 

That causes no bother except you to take Legal Counsel? Well, I think it’s only fair for me to FALL OFF THE WAGON.

Thankfully, I’m in the clear.  Legally and with no Threat To Harm.

It’s been a fun week or so.  I didn’t blog about this until I knew everything was okay.  Thus, I could tell the person who is more of a mental case than me (if you can believe THAT!) to get the hell out of my life.

After he told me to get out of my life a fair time ago.

I tried to help someone with a problem tonight via text messages.  I hope I did a good job.  Sometimes you don’t know what hemisphere you really are in.  Well, more than sometimes for me.  If I’m even on the planet.

That is not related to the person mentioned above.  Absolutely not! Nope.  Just me.

Does anybody know of the WONDERFUL Band Junior Boys? Electronica with a singer that is purely sublime.  I can never stop listening to them.  Like now.

First Album.  “So This Is Goodbye.”  Written about and/or inspired by his breakups with relationships, I believe.

The title track is my favourite.  Then, “Count Souvenirs.”  But watch out for “No Kinda Man.”  It just might defenestrate you.

Excuse me while I listen to my favourite tracks, maybe some more and the defenestrate.  Oh, the lightbulb just went out.  I can’t see my keyboard very well.  I’ll take baby MacBook with me when I defenestrate then.

Hmmm…hard to proof when I can’t see here.  Even though I just grabbed my MAGLITE. *shrugs*


Tell me how happy I am right now.

Several years ago, I managed to get the fuckers out of my apartment by non-stop cleaning (and re-cleaning) for a week.

I cannot do that here for a lot of reasons.

Approximately(?) 20% of the population have reactions to bedbug bites.

I fall into that approximate number and look like I have hives all over me.

Way, way, way, way, way back in time, some people used pepper to get rid of them.

Whoa, a natural solution!

Shit on toast, a BANDAID solution.

The Building Manager is away on Vacation.

The little pricks (pun intended) are attracted to CO2 first.

That’s why their goddamn hivey-bites appear mostly on your upper body, arms, hands, neck and face.

Alright, I won’t breathe.

Except in maybe a plastic bag secured around my neck so they can’t bite me there.

However, because I’m SO OUT OF MY MIND WITH IRE I TIE…!!!

Well, at least I won’t have to worry about bedbugs anymore.

I won’t have to worry about anything anymore.

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