Archive for September, 2010


It’s been two months since I admitted I was so stupid about blog ratings. I was going to write this post earlier, but I thought it most auspicious to do it today as somehow WP cacked.  Plus, it is still an “anniversary” of sorts (my initial target date was one month after “launch.”)

You see, I set up my whole “Ratings Concept” as a bit of a lark.  Well, a bit.  I do still stand by the fact that I was completely dense regarding this feature.  However, I must sincerely apologize to everyone out there for my tiny, wee lark.  Especially to all of you who did cast votes.  My lark was really small, though.  I swear! Nonetheless, something happened that did encourage my lark.

As soon as I implemented the “Ratings Concept,” a day or two later (just 24-48 hours!) I received at least 20 posts or more, all marked as “Very Poor.”  Yes.  Most of them were recent ones, as well.  I found that rather interesting.  Did someone else have a “Lark Agenda” of their own?

Or was it Pure Malice! *laughing*

Seriously.  I did want to give it a shot.  More of the serious? I don’t need readers to tell me what they think of my blog, its content, whatever, by a ratings system.  I don’t need little stars, or thumbs pointing up or down, to tell me what people think.  That is why I have a Comment Section.

That is just me.  Some people may really like seeing ratings.  I just see it as another statistical way of somehow trying to measure things.  My blog stats have never really been important to me.  If anyone gets something out of what I write here, that’s all that matters.


I’ve been out in the rain and have just come home.  My jeans are clinging, damp; tight against my legs.  This may be the first “feeling” of any said “reality” I’ve had in a while.  Even better that it is tactile; appealing to my senses.

I am not changing my clothes.  I want to feel the coldness of the rain against me for as long as I can.  I may go outside to soak myself in that rain more if it hasn’t stopped.

I said today would be a New Day.  A (Bit of a) New Me.  I don’t think I will ever be “New” but some changes need to be made.  Absolutely.

I’m trying to figure out how I have arrived where I am right now.  I’m not sure how important that is.  What is most important, is getting myself out of a very, terrible fix.  You see, I have become extremely unstable.  Did I get tossed into a rather nasty, Bipolar Cycling whirlwind? This would not surprise me at all, by several actions of late.  I have so clearly not been acting as my “regular” self.

I have begun to engage in somewhat “ritualized” cutting.  Or at least “regular” cutting.  Yes, yes…let’s be honest and bring it out of the closet.  What on earth? What am I doing??? I have done two cuttings in less than a week! I have NEVER done that!!!

The suicidal thoughts have come back, too.  Although, the other night, I sat amongst them and tossed the one of many arguments across the table.  No, to kill myself would hurt some people I would leave behind.

Have I done some kind of bizarre and twisted, mental-out-of-your-mind, bait and switch? Nonetheless, this all has to stop.  I can’t keep going on like this.

I’m going back out in the rain now, to try and feel more “real.”


*ahem*

Yes.  After throwing a fair bit of energy into throwing a fair bit of things in my flat into garbage, recycling…I’m throwing a fair bit of energy into my writing.  This is good.

Things have gotten a bit rowdy around here.  Again.

I fear I may have scared some people off in the online world.  Perhaps not.  Still, I have a feeling.  Deceptions always loom, but no matter.  Even if it is change.  Even if it is the fact that people do not know what to say.  I respect all perspectives.

There are ways to deal with things.  Some for me right now are straight up the middle, some are by being gentle.

I will do my best.  Both for myself and for anyone who still reads me or who keeps track of me.

Thank you for those of you that do.  You are all very important to me.  This blog would be nothing without you.


I wrote some time ago that I wanted to have everything in my life fall apart.  This was based upon what someone else I knew had said.  It happened to them.  They said it gave them strength, they felt, to get through anything then.

Therefore, I had wished this to happen to me.  So now, should I not be embracing it?

I’m going to start getting rid of things I no longer need.  Possessions that are useless to me.

Why should I bother keeping them?


I said that yesterday.  It was a real “ADD Day.”  I could just as easily say the same today.  No.

Most times I have no idea how my day will be for a few hours after I wake up.  In fact, I generally feel quite fine as soon as I am vertical.  I’m still rather slow, I definitely need my caffeine, and I do putter around a lot.  You might think that affords me a certain “luxury” in being able to lounge about to see what greets me.  That is not true.  After those few hours, I may not feel as fine as when I first woke up.  Therefore, it really isn’t always a luxury so much.

At best, I need a routine.  And a very strict one at that.  I will need to wake up at the same time every day.  I will need my Concerta/Extended Release Methylphenidate to kick in as it should.  I will need at least some caffeine.  Then, my routine must be so strict, it will involve me doing something constructive on a regular basis every day.  Like leaving the house and doing something with a purpose.  Like having a job?

At worst, I have no routine period.  My mind is left to its own devices.  It may become so bad, that those devices break down, need repairs, or fall apart altogether.  I cannot create a regular routine for myself no matter how hard I try.

My mind has been preoccupied with several things.  Not just what I have already written about.  I wasn’t even going to write about this.  However, I realized, what’s the point? It may even become future blog fodder, should it come to fruition.

I am quickly becoming closer and closer to our Stoopid Guvmunt’s funding for people who are “Disabled.”  It will radically change my life.  I have more information (a little more) than what little I had before.  What I already knew is that it can barely sustain people who are single.  I cannot bear to even do the research.

Another thing I “know” is that people have had to face bad times much worse than me.  That makes me feel a whole lot worse, than how bad I feel right now! Why should I be complaining so much?

Last night was another “Cry Myself to (Sorta) Sleep Night.”  My sleep meds weren’t working, so a Valium/Diazepam needed to be tossed into me after an hour and a half? I don’t remember.  A few more tears came and then finally, sleep.

Other things, too, are on my mind.  More “wait and see’s.”  More fears surround them.  I need to be patient, I do.  I know that, as well.  No one can ever know the future.  Still, time becomes so warped when you lay in wait for its outcome.  I keep looking at the calendar as each day passes, trying to remind myself of that fact.  Sometimes it works; sometimes it doesn’t.


Not fun at all, actually.  No.  The people were really nice but I had no idea what I was walking into.  I’ve never been to a Food Bank.

I lost a job that I’d held for years a very long time ago.  They were a bunch of fucktards that basically “fired” me for being mentally ill.  No one could get away with what they did to me with current legislation.  I won’t go further, but point being, back then and still today, I feel there are so many more people in need than I am.  I should not be going to a Food Bank.

My Dietician convinced me.  She said I am just as much “in need” as anyone else due to my life’s circumstances.  That still doesn’t make me feel any better about it.  I suppose she’s right, though.  Maybe now more than ever.

So, before I proceed with the rest of this tale, maybe other folks can share their experiences of going to Food Banks.  That is if they feel comfortable.

There were so many people! I thought we got there early enough.  They had a “Take A Number” system and oh, my.  I can’t remember but there were 30+ people ahead of me.  I asked how long it would take.  The guy said an hour.  Poor Grocery Man! The irony of me calling him Grocery Man as he drove me to a Food Bank instead of shopping for groceries.  You see, after the Food Bank, we had to talk about some other things regarding my future.  Some really, really bad things.

I ran outside with my ticket in hand to ask him what to do.  I didn’t want him to have to wait an hour! I started crying and he asked what I wanted to do.  Then I said I didn’t know, what did he want to do.  This went on for a while until my crying got nearly out of control.  Then he said to just go and get the damn food!

I thought you’d just walk in, give them ID, and start scrounging around through a bunch of boxes.  No.  That was kind of the point of having a number.  To keep things orderly in terms of all of us, the starving throng, plus they prepared your little packages for you.

Since I had never been there, they had to “process me.”  That also took a bit longer.  I have to provide them with more information (income, rent, dependents, ID with address–but that’s for every visit.)  I was told today I can go there four times a month, so basically every week.  All the information I am thinking is to determine your number of visits and maybe how much loot you can get.

While being “processed” there was a bunch of stuff on the woman’s desk.  I could have “one” of the items.  Whatever I wanted.  I didn’t even know what some of the things were.  So, I took…you’ll see at the bottom.  It seems kind of weird and it surprised me.  I thought it was something else and half of it is but…

They give you these little tickets for whatever you want.  Then you give those tickets to the folks who have what you want.  They even had some second hand clothes.  They even had perishables wrapped up in bags.  Would have been nice to nail one of those, but they disappeared long before my number was called.

I got what you’d pretty much expect (apart from the weird and/or surprising?) Rice, pasta, crackers, peanut butter, a couple of granola bars, some buns that look alright, soup, spaghetti sauce, a tin of tuna, and a tiny bottle of juice.

The kinda weird and unexpected?

What I took from intake looked like a big jar of honey.  It sort of is.  Honey and Ginger Tea.  It’s a big jar of honey that appears to have big hunks of ginger in it.  It says to put two to three teaspoons of it into boiling water and there’s your tea.  Okay.

More tea.  This was left on the “Perishables Table.”  Some kind of “Chinese Tea” the guy said.  I love tea so I scooped up all the packets and just threw them into my coat pocket.  When I got home, I felt them and it’s like they have tiny pebbles in their little bags.  On a couple, there’s a Pharmaceutical Company’s name.  Huh? The characters also look Korean to me, but I can’t read that, Cantonese or Mandarin either, so what’s the difference.  Still, Big Pharma Tea? I probably shouldn’t drink that.  Not with all the damn meds I’m on.

And, last but not least? I am going to taste powdered milk for the first time ever.  That should be interesting.

Also “interesting” were all of us, the starving throng.  Quite a group.  I brought Wonder Cane as in the morning I was a bit post-“ick”tal© wobbly.  So, I probably looked pretty groovy there m’self. *shakes head*


While eating dinner I seized.  It has been two months since I’ve had a seizure.  That’s been very good.   Very.  It wasn’t serious.  A Simple partial, I lost my vision for a bit, a kind of floppy head but I was sitting down.

However, I really wanted it to progress to a Complex partial where I was wandering around unconscious, then eventually I would explode in one grand tonic-clonic.

Isn’t that disgusting? To want to put myself through that?

Well, I surely have put myself through worse by choice (I can’t choose to have a seizure.)

On the heels of wanting to throw out all of my possessions last night and really, I suppose, throw out all of me…  One more confirmation that I am…

If I write “useless” you are all going to jump on me and say that I am not.  But do you really know? For so long and even to this day, this is what I am apparently being told.  I am trying, on all fronts…I am doing everything I can but sometimes, try as hard as I might, it still doesn’t matter.

With anything.  Everything.

I may be immediately post-“ick”tal© right now so that may speak to some “drama” of this post, but really.  Nonetheless, I won’t “speak” to a list of “reasons” why I’m tired of this, tired of that.  So many “excuses.”  I’m not sure if they’re even relevant anymore.  I doubt it.

I may very well be sickly worse post-“ick”tal© tomorrow when it wasn’t even a significant seizure.  More “uselessness!”  Hopefully I’ll be okay for my wonderful trip to the Food Bank and then to discuss something very indicative of “uselesness” that…well, certainly I can’t write about here.

Yeah, yeah…I know some of you care out there and I am sounding like a whiny, pathetic piece of…useless…  I’m sorry.

Don’t comment.  Please.

EDIT: Oops.  That wasn’t the right thing to say.  Not to comment.  Indeed.  I am immediately post-“ick”tal©.  You see? This makes you “useless…”


I really feel like I should just be quiet now.  I do.  Yet, here I am! Writing away on my blog, again! I should work on my “other” writing. *shakes head*

JDP (Job Disability Place) was good today.  Oh, dumb PA! You knew it would be! Granted I needed a Valium, as I thought I was going to be late because of stupid transit! Nothing like being a totally “disabled” mentalcase, going to a place dealing with people that are just that–and you have severe issues with being late! *rolls eyes*

But I knew it would be good.  I’ve just been such a tightly, bound…ugh! Crazy, wee, ball of stress, lately.  I won’t even tell you the thoughts running through my mind last night! And no they weren’t about killing myself.  But totally absurd.  Or maybe not with my unbelievable head!

Undoubtedly, complete depression talking but…well, alright! Let’s just say in a very simple manner, I wanted to throw my life in the trash! Even literally! I mean, just get rid of everything! Every single thing in my flat! Everything I own! Throw it in the garbage! WHO CARES!!!

Then I thought, well…could I maybe keep baby MacBook? My books? I love my books.  And my DVDs? At least some of my DVDs? I want all my anime ones! *pouts*

I elevate ridiculous to “High Art.”  Even still, I am quickly approaching poverty, so I’m not quite sure that these thoughts were that irrational.

Anyway, it was great to meet the one woman where we’d spent a significant amount of time on the phone orchestrating so much.  A couple of things, too.  One interesting and one funny.  The interesting was that I noticed she has quite a tremor in her hands.  How lovely for JDP to employ people with “disabilities.”  That shouldn’t surprise me so much, I guess.  The funny? *laughing*

There was a problem with the projector for the presentation.  Of course someone in the room had vision problems and couldn’t see the slides.  Maybe that’s not so funny.  Well, I’m evil and twisted so I find it funny.  Oh, come on! We were all messed up in some way or another!

The woman said that had been an ongoing problem with a filter being over the lens, and they hadn’t been able to fix it.  She asked if anyone in the room thought that they might be able to try.  Can you see it coming?

I offered, but with the caveat that I’m not an uber-techie.  Hell, I couldn’t even see the lens as I was sitting behind it.  I didn’t know if it was threaded and attached like a camera (therefore stuck with super glue?) Someone had “painted” the lens with pink “super glue” or a marker, crayon…  Was it a malfunction with the settings? Huh? Who the hell would want a pink filter on a projector???

I picked it up to look at it, set it back down and voila! Pink turned to white! One woman in the room yelled out: “YOU’RE HIRED!”

So, I have just emailed some files to “my guy” that I worked with before.  Some other things mentioned to him and hey, let me know when we can get together! *sighs*


For those that are new (or for those that aren’t and can’t even remember) I’m headed back to the “JDP.”  That would be: “Job Disability Place.”  That’s what I chose to call it on my blog before.

It’s been a very long time.  I didn’t even know if I’d end up back there due to so many variables that I don’t think I can count! It is a good thing, though.  I suppose. *sighs*  Well, no.  It is.  Bugger, me! I’ve got a lot of things spinning around in my head, but it is good.  I’m so damn spinny right now, I’m having a hard time trying to write about this in any organized fashion.

HAAAALLLLPPPP!!! Someone throw me a line!!!

I had said before, that I never referred to myself as “disabled” when I started with them.  However, I’d call myself whatever the hell they wanted, if they’d get me a job.  Things were different then.  I was cruising along, actively applying for jobs, my health issues weren’t…well, I don’t know what to say there except Merlin #2 “questioning” my “abilities” in certain areas and capacities.  If you don’t read those two posts, he said it was something to “keep in mind” but let’s just say I’m really keeping it mind.  A lot in mind.

So, back to the JDP.  Really crazy lapse in time.  First, they went through some sort of re-org. and my file got lost for three months.  I ended up going through Hospitalization #7.  I told them about that.  They then told me I required a letter from Merlin #2 to say I could go back to work.  He wrote it, but by that point, I started going back to school! Finally, I am now ready to go see them again, as I am (desperately) actively searching for work and school is finished.

Did you get all of that? Oh, one more thing.  Since they lost my file, I have to start from the beginning.  I must (re-)attend their Orientation! I tried to fight to get out of that one! No dice.  At least the gentlemen I was working with before is still there.  I requested to be (re-)assigned to him, so at least we could pick up from where we left off! Both the JDP and he said, not a problem.

I also don’t know if they need my letter from Merlin #2.  It was written when I started school–at the beginning of this year! I read and stared.  Good grief.  I just shook my head.  He wrote that I was ready to “…begin reintegration into…”  So…what? Does that mean I had “disintegrated?” Fell apart and became a wee pile of dust on the floor?

Anyway, I’ll ‘fess up to my guy about it all.  I have to, really.  But this is good, though.  I mean, how often do you meet with a “regular” Recruiter or Headhunter every week.  Still, PA scared.


I’ve been crying a bit over the last few days.  Probably the only thing that kept me from doing it last night, was being too doped up on meds from being sick.

I don’t know why.  I’m not sure.  Well, I may know why but that doesn’t mean I’m sure at all.  Or maybe I am sure but I just don’t know it.

I’ve been trying to keep myself busy.  Sometimes that’s not always a good idea, though.  Sometimes you need to just sit.  In silence.

But don’t you dare start thinking.  A tall order.  Especially for me.  So try and do nothing.  Let silent, empty waves crash over you, as you just sit (or lay) there.

Time marches on to the beat of its own drum.  Even if you can’t hear it.  Maybe that’s a good thing, too.  I don’t know or maybe I am sure of it.  Perhaps like sitting quiet and still, you should be deaf to the beating drum, as well.