ItHasNotHealedWithTimeItJustShotDownMySpine's Blurty
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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in ItHasNotHealedWithTimeItJustShotDownMySpine's Blurty:

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    Wednesday, June 4th, 2008
    2:33 pm
    Treborn Chris Antigone
    This is the story of a new-age prophet. Like all great stories, it is filled with miracles and terrors and is truly tragic.

    This story begins, as most great ones do, not so long ago in the Gables of South Florida. But we aren't going to start at the beginning. We're going to start at the end. It ends in a cornfield outside of Cheney, Kansas, near a reservoir where a body is discovered. The body in question is of a young man, much older than his prepubescent awkward form makes him out to be and much more worn than even the numerous scars criscrossing his skin illuminate. They say that "t'is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." They are morons. Any idiot knows to know sweet love and have true love caressing your body and creating a sense of safety and security and wholeness is a wonderful thing. When love is ripped away and lost though, the abyss deepens whilst consuming lovesick fools. To never know love at all, one would never miss it. One would never know the pain of losing it and would be better off for their ignorance. Chris never had a chance. From the moment he saw her to their first embrace and first kiss, he was gone. Love is not kind when it leaves. It is never kind when it is lost. Love's cruelty surpasses even Hate's, for Hate's cruelty is expected and common and Love's cruelty is extraordinary and awful and sudden. Wars have been fought for the loss of Love. Chris' life was taken by his own hand, because he could not bear to live having tasted the richness of True Pure Love which he could never hope to find quite so pure ever again.

    Tragic? Maybe. Through his perspective though, the only tragedy was that when he had tried his hardest to cut all ties, so as to make his passing easier on his friends- one connection slipped through and snagged on. Despite his timing and great elaborate planning, this one connection was what delayed his suicide. The delay infuriated him, even as it comforted him. He had already answered enough questions and come to terms with dying and leaving people and the mark it would leave on those who knew him. What sort of Gd would play with life by presenting him with this connection when he was so close to his goal of a Happy Death, a peaceful journey to the Other Side? But even that Need for compassion and connection was not Enough to tether him to life forever. It served as a major frustration and irritated him to no end, practical as he was when faced with obligations. He waited it out impatiently and when the time was right and he found someone else to take care of the connection, he Left.

    A lifetime collection from a lifelong disease of injection and punctures and computerized blood tests. Numbers. His whole life was about numbers. In the end, that's what killed him. Not the Love he lost forever. Not the Father he never understood- even in Death. Not even the mountain of Stress that threatened to drown him daily. Numbers are what he succombed to. 81 pills of 25 mg (each) of Clomipramine, 3 bottles of wine, 500 units of Novolog, 250 units of Levemir...and one last stroke. One last swim in Cheney. Start out on your back and end on your stomach, choking on the drinking water supply for the largest city in Kansas and the smallest Chris had ever lived in.

    Tragically perspective, when you consider it. Isn't it? Nobody left to tell. Nobody left to care. Nobody left. Nobody. At least, not as far as he was concerned about. Selfish? Maybe. He saw it as the last selfless act he would commit and the only selfish thing he ever succeeded at. The irony is a bit galling. The symbolism, moreso. Another unsung Tragic Hero dies another unsung, unnoticed death and only the narrator mourns him. So it goes.

    Current Mood: depressed
    Current Music: SKILLET
    Thursday, April 24th, 2008
    3:40 pm
    A life not lived for oneself is not worth living. (Dark)
    (My father died on April 6, 2008. That would be the father who abused me from the ages of 2-21 and even a few instances after that. The one who got me pregnant three times. The one who I was developing a better healthier relationship with. He was calling me "Izzy," even "Isaac," and referred to me as his son in our last phone conversation. The rest of my family has not been as quick.)

    So, I've been thinking a lot lately about why I'm here. Why I can't seem to get past certain issues and what makes me happiest and why those things make me happy to begin with.

    I've figured out that I'm not living for myself and I find it difficult to do so. So many people in our lives have expectations of us and whether intentional or not, those expectations influence how we live our lives- sometimes too much so.

    Examples? If I were living my life for myself, here is what would be different:
    I would have-
    -started hormones a year ago,
    -legally changed my name before I started at Newman,
    -not gone back to college at all,
    -been working as a paraeducator at a Special Education school,
    -already had my Beit Din,
    -been living NOT IN WICHITA,
    -be already professionally published,
    -the list goes on...

    I don't want to be in college. It isn't absolutely necessary (aside from having a higher salary while teaching) and in many cases, it has hurt me moreso than helped me.

    But, people have expectations of me. So, I run around and try to make them happy by living my life the way they want me to...talking about different things with different people until I can't even remember what I wanted to believe in the first place. That's just it. I'm losing my faith. I'm losing it, because the people I was living my life for are slipping away one by one, either distancing themselves or cutting off all contact. I don't think this is perspective. I only know what I see. I put my faith (all of it, the existence of Gd, etc.) into believing that if I served others and made them happy enough to stick around when I needed them in return, they would be there when the weather became torrential, when life became really really really tough. I lived my life for them. I "recovered" from mental illness and unhealthy behaviors for them. And like most things in my life, eventually I was disappointed. But, this time, because of how much I put into the expectations from others who I was living my life for- it was too much. It broke them. It broke me.

    I cannot recover for myself, because I cannot even live for myself. In my entire life, I've only made 3 major decisions that were entirely for me and me alone- without any outside input or advice or expectations.

    Those are:
    1. Buying men's clothes for the first time and getting my hair cut.
    2. Legally changing my first and middle name, going by "Isaac."
    3. Deciding to investigate and adopt Native and Jewish traditions.

    I have never decided that recovery was right for me. I have only attempted to recover for others, so that their expectations would be fulfilled and they would be happy with me.

    Living my life for myself and no one else, aside from HaShem- but no...I'm losing faith in everything. In everyone. All the candles, rituals, prayers, and warm fuzzies in the world can't change that. I can't feel them. I can't feel G-d. I used to feel so close and I crave that closeness now like a drug, but I can't find it any more. I need a bonafide miracle. I cannot live my life for a G-d Who seems to be disappearing from my life. If I must live my life for myself and nobody else, there will be a lot of changes to come. I will have to reevaluate who my real friends are and who I should excise from my life for my own health. I might change my mind and come back to college. I won't be happy about it. Living my life the way that I want is what makes me happy. Losing family and friends because of these new "choices" is upsetting, but is apparently unavoidable.

    I am starting Testosterone on July 8th. (If I make it to that date and nothing else goes horribly wrong before then, that is.) I know it is my choice and mine alone. I refuse to be influenced by those I was living my life for, because I'm the only one who can really make myself happy.

    Living my life for others has only caused me to be miserable. I'm tired of being miserable all the time, walking on eggshells, keeping my true self so close at hand yet being afraid to show myself unmasked and lose "friends" or "family."

    I no longer feel a part of the college Queer community of Wichita. There were times in the past when I felt I almost belonged. I no longer feel that way. For now, I have the Two-Spirit Society and a million online blogs to attempt to fill a void that cannot be filled.

    All I wanted out of life was shalom. Peace, wholeness...salaam. If I fail to find that in life, I know another place I will find it. I pray I can find it here. Pray I can salvage what little of my faith remains and try to build it back up.

    But I am through making promises to and being threatened by people who I once lived my life for. This is my life. I'm taking it back.....for however long it is mine to live.

    I'm not going to hang on much longer though. I grow weary of trying strategy after strategy with little or no results to show for it. What business is it of anyone if I cannot be fixed? Cannot be put back together? I have the right to live as long as I like. If that period of time is shorter than someone else would like, that's not my problem. Either give me a fucking miracle, G-d, or leave me to die in the peace You wouldn't grant me in life...

    Current Mood: depressed
    Saturday, May 26th, 2007
    10:57 pm
    Where to begin?
    First off, I want to apologize to any readers who were concerned for my well-being since my last post (about how I was fairly certain my family was going to beat me to death and hide my body) before I dropped off the face of the earth was so.......worry-inducing. My health has been getting worse and worse throughout the semester and that, plus stress from school and finances has made it near impossible for me to keep anything updated save for Facebook.

    Quick rundown of the semester:

    I kept up gender therapy appointments and saw my therapist about once or twice a month. She was ready to start me on testosterone (T) in March, but I felt I needed to work on eating disorder issues first and am currently working weekly with another therapist on those issues. To those of you who keep up with my multiple issues, I’ve no idea what number I am at. Somewhere in the 10-20 range, we haven’t really been keeping track and I’ve lost much of my semester. I remember very little of my work and school time. I know I wasn’t sleeping very much and eating was a chore.

    *sighs and shrugs*

    I let things drop off with Rabbi for a bit, because I was too stressed with other things. I have been reading and studying on my own, however. I was supposed to go to England on May 22nd with the rest of the NU study abroad folks, but my doctor grounded me for health reasons. I have spent more time in the ER and hospital, and at doctor, specialist, and therapy appointments, than I have actually in class or at work.

    Remarkably and at the same time unremarkably, my GPA for the semester was a 3.0. That’s one C, two B’s, and an A, plus a Pass in a Pass/Fail course. Unfortunately, while I started the semester with a load of 19 credits, I ended it with only 12- wait, 9 credits after my medical withdrawal from the England Abroad class. (And no, I don't want to talk about it. I'm upset that my doctor grounded me and forbade me from travelling overseas. I'm upset that my health is bad enough for her to do that and that nothing seems to be helping improve my diabetes control yet. At least I was allowed to go to Sam's graduation from UNLV. Of course, that's just because I didn't tell my endo that I was going to Vegas.) I am considering taking the Fall semester off and will decide for sure sometime in the 2nd week of August.

    I had a lot of travel plans this semester and did manage to go to the Big Gay Conference (MBLGTACC aka Alphabet Soup) in the weekend after Valentine’s Day. I went to workshops on being OUT in seminary and ministry, Two-Spiritedness, transitioning as an educator (Debra Davis), GLBTIQA in the Deaf (or was it Deaf in the GLBTIQA) Community, saw a short doc called "Toilet Training" about transpeople and restrooms, heard Faisal Alam talk about starting (it’s all about the Yahoo! Group listservs) al-Fatiha, and heard Loren Cameron speak about his photography. This conference is where I met my now girlfriend, Rosie. She is the love of my life and possibly past lives as well. I am so lucky to have found her. I truly believe she is my bashert. She is very supportive of me in all of my endeavors and struggles. I only hope I can be equally supportive of her, my pretty girl with red hair. Yay for Irish redheads! Spring Break was originally to be spent in Sacramento visiting/meeting Jody IRL, but Joders was busy and so I went back to Minneapolis and spent the week with Rosie, who was having surgery. I think I helped her by being there, or so she told me. Of course, I fell even more in love and especially with all of the unexpected things. Like going to Smitten Kitten and purchasing something of which I am very happy to call my own. Or ordering in from Davanni’s and going to an Iraq War student protest on campus. :-)

    I managed to finish the semester with 7 ER visits, 1 psych hospital stay, and 1 regular hospital stay. The doctors still haven’t figured out exactly what is wrong, but my insulin was changed. I’m now on Levemir, instead of Lantus. So far, there is little change with my diabetes. For the past month or so, my sugars have been up and down (20s to 600s) and they keep getting worse and worse. I suffered a seizure shortly before Spidey 3’s midnight showing. I’ve been having really unbearable back pain, anxiety, and migraines for the past 2 months and my less masculine parts have really been stressing me out healthwise. I am going to be seeing a chiropractor regularly for the next 2 weeks, to see if that will alleviate the pain any.

    My car was broken into 3 times this semester. The one time that anything was taken, all they took was my bookbag with my Tehillim, digital camera, an anti-suicide book by Kate Bornstein (which I still need to replace), my Spidey mask (which I replaced with a more expensive costume, courtesy of major credit card debt), a Swing CD, and an ED recovery book. Ironic, no? The last time it was broken into was the night before my seizure. I was also roughed up a bit by some drunks who thought I was a “fag.” I don’t know if the incidents are related and the police were less than helpful after they realized the “ma’am” they thought they were addressing had a male name. I’m leaving my car unlocked from now on and I have been more strategic with which bumper stickers I have on my car.


    Beau died on February 4th, 2007, a mere week after his lifelong friend Cathy died from kidney failure. Beau TwoFeather Dussault was a neighbor of mine at the Commodore. This guy adopted me unofficially as one of his kids, back when I first moved into the Commodore apartments and told him about my family. When I came out as trans*, he started calling me “Mr. Izzy” ‘cause he said it helped him remember my gender better. He taught me almost everything I know about Native culture and showed me how to make regalia and knives and other Native craft items. He had promised to take me hunting one day (bow & arrow) and we were planning on doing it this summer. He looked out for kids like me. He was like a dad to M and S, too. Well, he was a recovering addict and he had been off of Methadone for a long time due to heart and blood pressure issues. He was also on painkillers for his back. This guy was a Vietnam Vet and a good ol’ boy, so his love and acceptance of me and M and S meant even more than it normally would.
    Anywho, in early February a doctor put him back on Methadone (at way too high of a dose) and ignored his ER visit the weekend before for heart trouble. That Friday night, I went to go hang out with Kalli and Cheryl and he stopped me in the lobby. He gave me a big bear hug and said, “MR. IZZY! Why don’t you come see me no more?” I promised him I would hang out with him Saturday night and apologized for being so busy lately. He chastised me and said I wasn’t gonna hang out with him and demanded to know why I hadn’t talked to Rosa, his wife, about taking better care of her diabetes. He was so happy with Rosa. They had only been married since November 10th, but I had known Beau a long time and he’d never found true love until he met her. He wouldn’t let me out of the bear hug until I swore that I would see him Saturday night. So, I did and wriggled out of his arms. Well, I wound up doing a NUM3ERS marathon with Kalli and Cheryl...........and didn’t make it home until Sunday around 7 am.
    I reminded myself that I needed to stop by Beau’s that afternoon and apologize and then I curled up in my bed and tried to sleep. Around 9:30 am, I woke up because I heard Rosa sobbing in the hallway. Their apartment is caddy corner to my bedroom. My heart jumped into my throat when I heard her crying. I threw on some clothes and ran into the hallway. I went up and held her, holding back tears, and asked what was wrong. She said that Beau was dead, that she had woken up next to his cold body. I though about how ironic it was that Beau had wanted to die next to a beautiful woman he loved who loved him back and that it had actually happened that way. Then I was angry and I held her and said, “He’s not. He’s not dead.” I waited and watched as the paramedics tried to revive his pale body, while I held his sobbing wife. It all felt so surreal. Looking back, it still seems surreal. I burned sage, cedar, and sweetgrass outside his door while we waited for the morgue to come pick up his body. The funeral was a week later at the United Methodist Indian Church.
    It still doesn’t feel real. I dance for him now at the pow wow, or rather I am learning how. He helped me make my leggings, moccasins, and breechcloth. I remember asking him for his ribbon shirt and he said, “Over my dead body.” Well, Rosa remembered that and gave it to me. I now wear it every pow wow. It’s a little big for me, but I am hoping I will grow into it some more once I start T- which will be in about 2 years, but still. Rosa also gave me all of his craft stuff and tools. I was honored and gratified that she realized that I was probably the only one who would put the items to any use. I’m working on a knife, fan, and walking stick right now. Beau passed away right before the Alphabet Soup conference and I am still mourning him. I hope he is proud of me.

    I felt very responsible for Rosa after Beau’s death and I watched her as close as I could. Spending time with her and watching movies. However, when I left town for the Conference and arrived home on Tuesday, I was exhausted and decided to sleep and check on her in the morning. Well, she ODed on meth shortly afterward which exacerbated my already high levels of anxiety and stress. Eventually, I had to admit myself to Good Shepherd because whatever med I was on was definitely not helping the situation. Ironically, Rosa wound up being my roommate. I was grateful for this, because CL had lied and told me that she hadn’t even come out of the coma yet which was worrying me even more. Rosa and I were both released on the same day and after giving her the talk about her diabetes that Beau wanted me to have, I have since relinquished any responsibility for her. She is old enough to take care of herself. I knew both her and Beau from the BreakThrough Club, which Beau introduced me to. BTC helped me go back to college and they also help pay my rent. Regardless of what Beau said, I know he does not expect me to watch over her every move. I have heard that Rosa is using again and that worries me, but I can do nothing about it. C’est la vie. I need to take care of myself anyhow. CL caused drama over Beau’s death, claiming him as his Native father, too. (Which is funny only because Beau really didn’t like CL, since he was obnoxious and always critiquing Beau’s cooking ability. Beau had been a professional chef for over 20 years.) He even went so far as to try to arrange funeral and memorial services behind Rosa’s back. Anyway, drama aside, CL fell sick shortly afterward. I have even heard that he is also using again. In fact, he told me himself that he was using again. This upsets me a lot, but I am not responsible for him. He is 29 years old and if he wants to take a fast track to death, so be it. He knows how I feel about it and how I worry about him, but he still chooses this. At least his counts are better, although he’s had three car accidents this semester and one or two hospital stays. I am frustrated with my big bro, CL, because all the prayers in the world aren’t going to help him if he refuses to take care of his health- regarding his HIV status, diabetes, epilepsy, and asthma… I have stopped feeling responsible for his well-being. After all, he’s a big boy. He should be able to take care of himself.

    CL and I did go to the Tulsa Two-Spirit Gathering together with the Wichita Two-Spirit Society. That was an incredible experience for me. Jon and Tommy came from Wichita and I learned they live nearby. They are a COMCARE couple, but they complement each other well and I really think they’ll do okay. Jon and I share disorders. Thankfully, his weight (and my own health in that area) is much better now. The weekend before the Gathering, I participated in my first sweat. It was a very good sweat. At the Tulsa Two-Spirit Gathering, I participated in drag (well, it wasn’t drag for me) for the first time ever. I met Richard (aka Simone) who has the most gorgeous soprano voice I have ever heard. Richard helped me fix my leggings which were fashioned hastily with Beau and also said that if we kept in touch, might be able to help me make fancier regalia. We posed as Spider-Man and Superman, fellow nerds in action. Unfortunately, the picture was taken with a digital camera that has since been stolen. I am hoping others took many pictures of the Gathering, because I lost all of mine. I met a Blackfoot Elder FTM in Tulsa, named Marcus, who spoke with me about my transition and my path. He gave me a warrior silver cuff at the Giveaway. I learned that tobacco and sage are the best gifts and you should never apologize for giving them. The Giveaway was great. Marcus lives in San Francisco and is helping with the Montana Two-Spirit Retreat the weekend after Labor Day. (As a side note, Marcus knew Robert Eads and Lola who are in the documentary, Southern Comfort.) I have since realized that not only can I not afford to go to this retreat, but I cannot afford to go to Gender Odyssey in Seattle Labor Day weekend either. I am trying very hard to accept this and not put myself into more debt, trying to go. I will simply save up for next year and hope that Pam and Michael let me go. Antonio is going with Pam and Michael this year, because he gave an impassioned speech at the Giveaway about being Positive and not speaking very good English when he first arrived here from Mexico. They want Antonio to give a workshop at the Montana Two-Spirit Retreat. He has found a family in our Native community and we are grateful to have him. Michael is being honored with a naming ceremony (which is why he and Pam must go) by his tribe, the Chippewa.

    Transition-wise, my name has been legally changed for almost 6 months now. I think I will wait until right after graduation to start testosterone. I do not think I will be teaching in Wichita and would like to go straight to Grad school, most likely at Emporia State or University of Minnesota. If I get a handle on my finances, I can start saving money for top surgery. Of course, most of this is subject to change. I am waiting for a few reasons. One reason is that I have a beautiful girlfriend who will see me as I want and need to be seen, no matter what. Another reason is that I have many younger cousins whom I fear I would be forbidden contact with if/when I came out and started T while they are still in their “formative” years. The final reason is that even though my gender therapist feels I am ready, from how easily I fell apart this semester from stress and anxiety- I would be afraid to subject my diabetes control to yet another variable, as of yet. I need to be much healthier when I start hormones. I am trying to bide my time and be patient for now.

    Also, I am trying to keep more kosher by sticking to a largely vegetarian diet. When I do choose to eat meat, I am more conscious of my choices. I am eating as organically and healthily as possible on a limited budget. So far, I haven’t completely cut meat out. I still have it about once or twice (tuna, lamb, etc.) a month. However, I am very impressed with how often I don’t have it. I already know how to make matzo ball soup, Gran’s spaghetti and meatballs, and Coq au Vin without using actual meat. (And it tastes pretty darn close to the original, too!) I’m still getting protein (I didn’t cut out eggs or dairy) from cheese, beans, nuts, and meat substitutes- so don’t worry. I am severely limiting my intake of alcohol due to my recent health issues. I am actually pretty excited with my attempts so far at vegetarianism and will keep you all apprised of my efforts. (This isn’t just because I am dating a vegetarian. After all, Elanora was vegetarian. I have been considering this for some time and decided it would be a good thing to try out now. The fact that I am dating a vegetarian does make it easier to try though.) By the way, if anyone knows of a good corned beef or roast lamb meatless substitute, do let me know please?

    I am also trying to be more frugal with my spending. I still have problems spending money, but I am learning to be more careful. I am very much in debt right now and I am formulating a plan to get out of it on my own. See, every time I felt pain or had bad blood sugars or experienced heightened anxiety, my first reaction was to purchase something- whether I could afford it or not. I am getting out of this habit now. I am seeing a chiropractor right now to help with my migraines, anxiety, and back pain. I will see my diabetes doctor again in about 2 weeks, with hopefully much tighter reins on the Big D. If all goes well, in about three weeks, I plan on driving to Minneapolis to spend a couple of months with Rosie. I’m bringing all of the food I have with me and am not planning on spending more than maybe 50 bucks tops the entire time I am there- aside from gas money and emergency cash, that is. But, I am so worn out. If this summer break is not enough for me, I may be taking the Fall semester off. Financially, I cannot really afford to do this. But my semesters have been getting progressively worse and I may HAVE TO for my health and peace of mind. If I do not attend classes this Fall, I will be concentrating on my health, individual study with Rabbi for my conversion, and learning self defense. Those are my basic goals. I may add to them. I definitely need to learn self defense. I’m tired of being pegged an easy mark. If I do take the Fall off, I will definitely return in the Spring.


    Wow. So, yeah that was very long. Let me end with saying that your prayers would be very much appreciated and that I am mostly concentrating on myself and my health right now. So, if I don’t answer my cell or seem to be ignoring you or ditching a lot when I have said I would hang out with you- don’t take it too personally. My health is very unstable right now and I need to focus on getting better and finding a better balance.

    (P.S. In addition to all of my friends, I am very grateful to the friendships I have found recently: Rafi, Lizz B, Cristina Siman, Emily, Marcus, Michael, Jon, Tommy, Minnesota people, Kate B, Daniel, Qwo-Li, Shira, and many others...)

    Current Mood: drained
    Current Music: "Breathe Into Me" (By Drops of Red)
    Monday, October 23rd, 2006
    6:57 pm
    Stranger than Fiction... Who the f*ck is Mouse?!?
    You're sitting on the couch and watching Stargate:SG1 on TV, when your mind starts to wander. Before you know it, you're dreaming. You don't feel asleep fully, but you can't quite pull yourself out of it. You find yourself in a dark hall. There are voices very far down the hall and a brief glimpse of light. All around you, arms reach out and try to grab you...try to make you hold still. But you don't want to be swallowed whole again. It took you so long to break free in the first place. You can hear bits and pieces of a song and so you go towards the music, which ironically is in the opposite direction of the light. You strain to hear its rhythm pulsing and drawing you towards it.

    It becomes darker and darker, impossible to see your hand in front of your face and the path you walk begins to feel rocky and you can feel a brisk wind and wonder where the hall went. Is this too dangerous? You want to turn back, but now you can't see anything. No light and no voices save for the syncopated beat that has drawn you into this wasteland. You head towards the music (is that rap?) again and trip over a mass of some sort. It appears to be a pile of rags, except it's moving slightly. It lets out a whimper and you bend down and offer your arms to the frightened mass. This is when you realize it's only a child, no older than 7. A scrawny little thing who smells musty and whose skin feels like ice.

    Suddenly, an arm comes up behind you and the child cries out a warning. Already the arm has wrapped itself around your neck as tight as a vice. The child cries and begs forgiveness as you start to black out.

    The last thing you hear is, "They din't mean nut'in, Mouse. They's lost."
    And the reply, "As we all are. Still gotta learn 'em some r'spect."

    And then all is dark and you feel suffocated by the heaviness. You try to move, but cannot. You feel like you just might be dying, when-

    Suddenly, it's light out. The recliner chair beneath you moves slightly and you can feel yourself gasp for air gratefully. You shiver, because it's colder than ice in your apartment. The apartment doesn't look quite like you left yours, but it's close enough to satisfy your need for normalcy. You sit up and stretch and check your calendar...and then your clock. You missed classes today, yet you don't feel like you were sleeping. Actually, you feel exhausted. No matter. You have to go to school now.

    You get ready and check your sugar (normal) and then climb into your car. Why is the gas tank down a quarter? Did you go somewhere?

    Your cat was looking at you so strangely this morning. It was like he wasn't sure who you were. And you haven't quite felt yourself all day. And while you have your suspicions, you don't really want to know why that is.

    Current Mood: confused
    Current Music: "Enough Man" (by Katastrophe)
    Monday, June 12th, 2006
    11:37 pm
    Cuts deep to the bone, but never heartfelt...
    So what is important? So what if I finished school? So what if I made good grades and survived, even thrived under the immense pressure? What does it really mean in the end?

    What? Participating in Day Of Silence, the documentary, and CrossWalk wasn't enough for you? When will anything ever be enough for you if you can't stop and take a breath and acknowledge all you've accomplished? Pride is not the sin you make it out to be. Not the way you're thinking. It's okay to be proud of yourself for overcoming adversity.

    This is stupid. It's pointless. It's the ultimate uncensorship act. I feel like I am double plus ungood for doing it. Yet I must, despite the thoughtcrime or doublethink involved in the insurrection.

    Current Mood: contemplative
    Current Music: "Forsaken" by KORN and disturbed...
    Thursday, February 16th, 2006
    2:53 am
    High school all over again...
    I made all A's my first semester of college. Yet these days, I'm reminded of high school. I would get to high school at 6 in the morning (sometimes earlier), have class from 7:30 am to 1:30 or 2:30 pm and then I would have afterschool activities - normally keeping me at school until at least 10, preferrably 11 at night. I did this to avoid home, where nothing felt safe. I also did this as a distraction and probably for other reasons. The majority of time when I stayed after - I was alone. I had clubs I went to, but I spent as much alone time at school as possible. Because frankly, people scare the crap out of me. I have severe social anxiety disorder and ADHD/OCD doesn't help.


    And now, I'm in a college a thousand-plus miles away from home and I'm getting uber-involved and once more spending as little time at home as possible. Is this because I fear what has gone on in my bedroom before? The memories are so real, it's hard to believe that they're only memories. I'm losing my mind, spending this much time at school. I spent a couple of nights in McNeill (until 3 am) and one in Beata on some friends of mine's couch. And now, I'm in DeMattias in the art department trying desperately to express that which I can only barely give voice - my past. I'm in leadership. I'm expected to do all of these great and impressive things like keep LIT Club alive and start the first Queer Straight Alliance the school has ever seen PLUS organize a massive Day Of Silence event and take the 7 classes I signed up for at a whoppin' 19 credit hours total. But are these someone else's expectations or my own uber-high self-expectations? I am not sure. I missed class for mental health reasons twice this week and I expect to again tomorrow. It was a full moon on a lonely Valentine's Day, but I've been suicidal since Saturday - barely eating or sleeping - I doubt my calories since Saturday would total 1500 even with friends all over me about it. Most likely, I will have to quit my job and I can barely pay my bills with the job - so that has me extremely worried. My plan for now is to take my math test in 6 hours (after stopping by the Math Center) and then to write an e-mail to my teachers explaining my health atm (prolly will fib and say it's physical). After I do this, I'm calling my case manager, therapist, and psychiatrist and attempting to get emergency appointments with all or at least one of them. If that doesn't work, I will probably go into Good Shepherd later on. My diabetes is getting out of whack due to eating and the anxiety associated with all things social and everytime it dips low or swings high - I get teary, anxious, suicidal, and overemotional. I'm emotional enough now, that I might try to crash my car on purpose or severely cut up my arms...which would be really sad considering I made it a full year without doing said bad habit. Being like this scares me. Living at school when I have a place and it's supposedly safe from family and perpetrator-like people influences is silly. All I know is if I don't figure this out soon, I am one fucked little boy.

    Current Mood: anxious
    Current Music: "Untitled" (By Simple Plan)
    Thursday, June 23rd, 2005
    4:06 pm
    Back hurts
    My back (right shoulder blade and radiating up to my neck and head) is on fire. This is apparently a body memory, of what - I am afraid to ask. It is very painful and yesterday I even went to the ER and they gave me some muscle relaxers which are doing nothing. I'm going to take twice what they told me to and see if that does anything. I was going to clean today, but that doesn't seem to be getting done. :-( I have been updating all of my journals today in which I hardly ever post - that means all 4 of my other xangas, my blurty, my LJ, my DJ, and my FOD and TOD if I can get those 2 to open. My hands are getting tired and I am going to go lie down again now, because my back hurts. Just got back from my Chicago trip and hope to start college in the Fall. :-) Do I spread myself too thin online? I have a membership at all of the following (and some of these are alters' memberships): Blurty (2), Xanga (5), BustedHalo, Phatmass, Frumteens, Chabad, DJ, LJ, FOD, TOD, Bolt (6 or 7), Okcupid, Myspace, Yahoo (5), AIM (15?), (2), Angelfire, PlanetOut, NYTimes, OrlandoSentinel, and probably some that I am forgetting...


    I need to go lie down. Maybe I will edit this later.

    Current Mood: sore
    Current Music: "Zoot Suit Riot", by Cherry Poppin' Daddies
    Monday, January 31st, 2005
    4:33 pm
    Everything that ever happened to me...that I know about.
    Well, I do have alters who remember the more severe memories. Whether I will ever be entrusted with those memories is uncertain.

    *sighs and takes a deep breath*

    When I was about 2 years old, my dad started taking showers with me and molesting me. I don't...

    *wipes her brow*

    Wow, this is gonna be a lot harder than I thought. If I think about it and try to detach emotional value from it, it may work better. Although I will seem very cold.


    I was ritually abused from the age of less than 2 until I was about 7. I know little about these memories, but my alters have them. I don't want to talk about any of the ritual or religious memories I remember.


    I took showers with my dad from a young age, until I was almost 9 or 10. There is much that I don't remember that he did to me, but I remembered enough to leave the state and move out on my own onto the streets at 20. He caused 3 pregnancies and at least 2 out of 3 miscarriages, the 1st miscarriage was more ED-related probably. The one I remember the best is my last one. Time kind of gets away from me but I am fairly certain it was my last one. My dad raped me. It's so odd seeing those words on the screen. Part of me is screaming, "NO, HE DID NOT!" and part of me is screaming that it's okay to tell now and I can stop lying. I was about 5 weeks pregnant. They said at 6 weeks, you could tell if there would be any damage (brain damage or deformities to the baby) from incest and I was seriously going to keep it, although I had debated over abortion with myself for a while. He, um...

    *takes another deep breath*

    ...took a screwdriver, said he wanted to "check" something. My eyes widened when I realized what he wanted to do. I said I wasn't pregnant and he said something along the lines of "So you ARE a slut and you won't admit it!" Then he took the screwdriver and started to put it in me, and I froze like always. I watched him jam it into me as if he thought that it wouldn't hurt at all. I cut off feeling to myself at that point, because I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much pain I was in. When he saw how much I was bleeding, his eyes got wide for a second - only a second - and then he scowled and said to me, "You ARE a slut. GO TO YOUR ROOM! You better not go out tonight or tell anyone anything." Since not all of the blood was the baby, I started crying in my room and I tried to get it to stop. It hurt so bad. The one thing I will remember from that night, if I forget everything else - was the pain. I got online and I told a close friend (E.) that I thought I was miscarrying and she was shocked. I accidentally explained what was going on. I have no idea why I did that. I didn't think she would do anything. She told me to go to the ER, so I grabbed a bunch of old towels and stole the keys to my car and went. My dad told the police later that he GAVE me the keys. I spent about 3 hours in the ER and when I was on my way back home, I saw a police cruiser outside my house. I should have kept going.....

    *inhales and exhales*

    ......I didn't. I stopped and I saw them questioning my now sleepy father at 3:30 am in the morning in front of my Mom about whether or not he has ever laid a hand on me. I panicked but tried to keep calm. After he answered them with a definite NO, they turned to me. AND ASKED ME IN FRONT OF HIM, IF MY FATHER HAD EVER ABUSED ME! If looks could kill, I would not be standing with the glare my dad gave me right then. I tried to be subtle, hoping they'd catch on. I mean, I was limping and wearing a sweatsuit on a very warm night. I said "I have been abused in the past." I kept repeating that and hoping they would ask WHEN the past was. They didn't. They got in their car after apologizing and drove off. My father grabbed me by the arm as soon as they were out of sight and pulled me back into the car and drove me to his office. By now it was 4 or 5 am. When we got to his office parking lot, he threw me out of the car and started kicking and beating me repeatedly. He kept yelling at me and saying that I had told someone and I better not open my mouth ever again. When he was finished, he drove me home and told me I had better clean myself up or else he'd "finish what he started". I went inside my head at that point and didn't come out for almost 3 weeks, even though I had just gotten a new job. David, Azrael, and Nikki filled in for me at certain times. I had decided I would never tell anyone when stuff was happening again. Obviously, I have changed my mind. I will not remain silent for his comfort. I am free of them now. I don't have to be scared and I don't even have to go home ever again, if I choose not to. So far, I still visit home though that may change.

    *sighs heavily*

    Other people who have hurt me include priests from the Church my mom worked at in Miami [I don't remember these clearly at all, alters have most of these], starting when I was less than 2 and I'm not sure how old I was when it ended; Danue, my 17 year old babysitter [I have most of this], when I was 4; Chrissy and Missy [I have some of this], twins who babysat my sister and I, when I was 6; my 9th grade English teacher, Mr. P. N. [I have all of this.]; Mr. J. K. [I have all of this.]; Alex P. [some]; David W. [some]; Kevin N. [some]; Lakeside Alternatives Patient [some]; that Alabama hick on the Greyhound bus to Wichita the first time [a little]; Stan in the spring of 2003 [a little]; M. and S. last in December 11, 2004 [some of this].


    And Stan is shouting up to my window to try to get me to let him in the building. Perhaps, I will write more about these memories later. I didn't think it would be this hard to write about them. I don't know why I thought it would be easy.

    Current Mood: numb
    Current Music: "Rest In Pieces", by Saliva
    Saturday, September 4th, 2004
    7:56 pm
    Can't never do nothing right...........
    It's 12 am and I can't stop thinking about you. Some people say I'm smothering you. I'm too clingy, I'm pushing you away, I'm bad for you, etc. I feel like I'm suffocating and I crave your touch, warm embrace, and light kiss. Perhaps I'm addicted...perhaps everything they say is right. I can't stop loving you. I can't stay away from you. It's too damn hard. I want you. For whatever reason, I NEED YOU. But you'll never see this letter unless you check my Blurty - which you don't. The paper one shall be burned and in those ashes, shall hopefully be my addiction to you. I can't go on living like this and death is not an option at present. Abba? Please help me! Please?

    Stabbing oneself is impossible, despite the force used and the sharpness of the intended weapon of death. I can't do anything right. Can't go more than a week without stealing or shoplifting, I cut myself again - 'STUPID' into my stomach and underlined 3 times. Bad on chair, bad on cat, even bad on her. BAD! I shouldn't be allowed out into society when all I want to do is die. Death is all I am and despite Ana's recent escape, she may return - if I don't cut myself into pieces in her absence. I hate this and I feel helpless to change the course I am on, no matter how hard I try to be 'normal' matter how good I get at "life" activities, I will never truly BE alive.


    Current Mood: rejected
    Current Music: It's loud enough in my head without any damn music...
    Friday, August 20th, 2004
    5:30 pm
    *Curve's the word, spin's the verb. Lovers - it curves, so freak what ya heard*
    I need to kill myself. I hate this. Life is way too unbearable and time keeps slipping right through my fingers without much event or celebration. I don't know how to fix this anymore. I don't know how to fix me. I want out.

    Current Mood: nauseated
    Current Music: "No Diggity", by Tim McGraw and Jo Dee Messina
    5:25 pm
    *Tomorrow's another day and I'm thirsty anyway, so BRING ON THE RAIN...*
    Start Time: 1:11 am, CST
    End Time: 11:46 pm, CST

    Definition of mental illness.......seeing Requiem for a Dream and remarking on how YOU'D be able to handle coke and speed better. And how you'd only use it to lose weight and then you'd quit.


    Another definition of mental illness is walking through a Wal-Mart and being unable to NOT steal some Ex-Lax because you've just eaten the first "normal" meal in months and feel like you might explode. I want to take all 30. I won't of course, for reasons unknown to me. Instead, I'll sit here and stare at them all night WISHING I could take them and ignore the consequences. Stupid stupid rules... Can't break one. No, no, no! Have to obey. Ever wondered what my rules are?

    Here they are -

    Rules for maintaining order:
    1. When bathing oneself or washing one's hands, one must wash hands and feet no less than 7 times in the proper rhythm. If one screws this up, one must repeat it correctly 7 times. Your hands/body will remain dirty until it is done the right way. Continue repetition until it is done perfectly. Bathing is required 2 times a day and showering once. Best to do all 3 at once. If you don't have enough time to, then stay dirty.
    2. One's weight must never be any number other than the following - 46, 50, 55, 75, 81, 99, 100, 101, 111, 115, 116, 123, 125, 130, 133, 135, 146, 150, 155, 169, 175, 181...NO HIGHER.
    3. When swimming, laps AND meterage, must be a multiple of 5 - preferrably 15 or higher. Otherwise no swimming.
    4. Breathing during strokes must be only done every 7 strokes. 5 is not as good, but is still acceptable. 3 means one is very out of shape and likely needs to lose weight.
    5. When counting, continue counting until current number is "an acceptable number" or at least a multiple of 5.
    6. Most daily activities must revolve around the number 3, 5, or 7 or some other acceptable number. 7 is preferrable. This includes caloric intake, sleeping, and any self-injurious activities.
    7. When brushing one's teeth, one must follow the proper order. Brush, water, toothpaste, run finger over brush under water until toothpaste is cleaned out, and then the appropriate rhythm and order to get water out of brush. If order is screwed up, applying water to brush and doing the routine over is permitted until it is done right.
    8. Try not to step on cracks, never wish for bad weather, and always finish everything on your plate. No wasting food or liquids. Better to go without, than to put food or liquids out that you will not or cannot finish.
    9. When dressing oneself, always put on underwear, socks, pants/shorts, bra, deodorant/AP, brush teeth, wash face, shirt, clean glasses, brush hair, put on hat and then glasses...ALWAYS IN THAT ORDER.
    10. NEVER EVER THROW ANYTHING OUT. Better to be prepared, than to be without.
    11. If some food falls to the ground and the ground is relatively clean, one must pick it up as soon as possible and if item looks clean, it's okay.
    12. Never ever break or spill anything. That is forbidden.
    13. Never go to sleep without at least 2 lights on.
    14. Never go to sleep without saying prayers.
    15. Never eat without saying prayers.
    16. When praying, 3 prayers minimum are required. Only 1 is required to be said aloud and can be whispered.
    17. Always feed animals and others before self. NEVER eat more than 2500 calories.
    18. Never go to sleep without a working flashlight.
    19. The following foods can never be eaten! Anything other than kosher, lowfat, lowcal, sugar-free items. Exemptions are Oreos and an occasional non-kosher item - although NEVER during a Festival or Shabbat. Punishment for straying from this will be weight gain.
    20. Never do drugs, curse, smoke, lie, cheat, steal, drink - or hang around those who do. Whenever this is broken, one must say no fewer than 7 prayers - which must include at least 3 Acts of Contrition.
    21. Self-imposed penances are a must for any straying from these rules. Self-imposed things can be any of the following- cutting, taking laxies or diet pills, burning, fasting, purging, exercising, withdrawing, or calling someone who will definitely belittle us. Other things may be added to this list at a later date. Punishment for any self-destructive behavior, regardless of whether penitential or not, shall be one of the things just mentioned.
    22. Admission to a hospital is only absolutely necessary when one is suicidal enough to have a plan and well-off enough to be able to afford whatever one needs for the plan.
    23. Insulin doses must always be one of the acceptable numbers: 3, 5, 6, 7, 11, 15, 16, 23, 25, 30, and so on. If it must be some other number, add an extra .25, .5, or .75 of a unit to make it acceptable.
    24. Lows, weight gain, natural disasters, terrorist disasters, and most of life's problems are a punishment for not following these rules and still existing.
    25. Relaxing is forbidden if ANYTHING is left undone, one has made someone upset in any way, or one of these rules has been broken.

    I wish I wasn't so messed up...


    Evil, evil, evil body. Body that makes me weep, eat, sleep, digest, defecate, fart, and feel without any regard for whether I WANT to or not. I want my wall back up. I don't want these tears, I changed my mind. I want to be able to hide away from the world again. I want to be able to hide how I feel. I WANT MY FRIGGIN' WALL BACK! But I can't seem to find any of the bricks anymore.


    Blow made me cry. I think it finally clicked that trying to find illicit substances that may aid in weight loss is a bad thing and a lose-lose situation. At least I hope it clicked and my naivete won't kill me... Innocence is deadly, at times.

    Current Mood: sick
    Current Music: "Bring on the Rain", by Tim McGraw and Jo Dee Messina
    4:46 pm
    *I wake up and tear drops, they fall down like rain...Go2bed,dreamOfYou-That'sWhatI'mDoingTheseDays*
    Note: I feel like my whole life is falling apart. I guess I am more co-dependent than I thought. The girlfriend and I decided, albeit mutually, that we needed some time apart to figure out some parts of our life on our own SEPARATELY. It's eating me away inside and I feel completely ripped in 2.


    But no one will tell anyone. Because nobody reads this that I know in real life. Not even her.

    "Be That Way"
    (By Martina McBride)

    Every time I turn around
    I run into your pride
    Sometimes I’m not so sure if I wanna
    Know that guy, know that guy
    ’cause you got a rock hard head
    Stubborn as a mule
    Oh, yeah, and by the way, I still love you

    Go on and be that way
    Slam that door
    Make a scene
    Yell some more
    Come on let’s have it out
    Have your say
    ’cause with a love this strong
    Baby it’s okay
    For you to be that way

    Sometimes what you don’t say
    Can make the deepest cut
    And I get my feelings hurt
    And I just go nuts, well a little nuts
    So try to ignore that girl
    She’s just blowin’ off steam
    Oh and I don’t know about her
    But I hope you say to me

    Go on and be that way
    Slam that door
    Make a scene
    Yell some more
    Come on let’s have it out
    Have your say
    ’cause with a love this strong
    Baby it’s okay
    For you to be that way

    Baby let’s get emotional
    What do you say we let it all go
    Let it go

    Go on and be that way
    Slam that door
    Make a scene
    Yell some more
    Come on let’s have it out
    Have your say
    ’cause with a love this strong
    Baby it’s okay
    For you to be that way

    Be that way, oh yeah

    I put up with her tantrums because I know she has nowhere else to actuallY EXPRESS how she feels - nowhere safe, at least. But sometimes they really frustrate me.

    "7 Days Without You"
    (By Avion)

    Sitting here
    Counting the hours
    Waiting for the sun to kiss the sea
    There lies by the frigates of the flowers
    You mind me of
    You and me

    There’s one love in a lifetime
    There are two hearts of a kind
    There’s are three reasons you’ll mine
    There’s five or six are through
    Seven days without you
    Seven days without you

    Making plans
    Just stop the aching
    Chasing thoughts from a million miles away
    In the tides there’s another day breaking
    I rehearse the ones
    I wanted to sing

    There’s one love in a lifetime
    There are two hearts of a kind
    There’s are three reasons you’ll mine
    There’s five or six are through
    Seven days without you, yeah
    Seven days without you, yeah

    I will find a way until your home
    Let the giant sleep this find we know

    There’s one love in a lifetime
    There are two hearts of a kind
    There’s are three reasons you’ll mine
    There’s five or six are through
    Seven days without you
    Seven days without you
    Seven days without you

    I feel so isolated from the world right now. This is killing me.

    "Whatever You Say"
    (By Martina McBride)

    You think I'm always makin'
    Something out of nothin'.
    You're sayin' everything's okay.
    You've always got an answer,
    Before I ask the question.
    Whatever you say.

    Now we can change the subject,
    Pretend I never brought it up.
    Same old story anyway.
    Later we can work it out,
    Right now you're talked out.
    Yeah, whatever you say.

    Oh I know you can hear me,
    But I'm not sure you're listening.
    I hear what you're sayin',
    But there's somthing missin'.
    Whether I go, whether I stay
    Right now depends on
    Whatever you say.

    You say yes, you need me
    And no, you wouldn't leave me
    And that should be enough to make me stay.
    And even though I want to,
    I don't hear "I love you"
    In whatever you say.


    Oh whether I go, whether I stay
    Right now depends on
    Whatever you say.
    Whatever you say......
    Whatever you say.....

    She's getting better though - as far as the whole "I Love You" thing
    and appreciation goes.

    "It Matters To Me"
    (By Faith Hill)

    Baby tell me where’d you ever learn,
    To fight without sayin’ a word,
    Then waltz back into my life
    Like it’s all gonna be alright?
    Don’t you know how much it hurts?

    When we don’t talk,
    When we don’t touch,
    When it doesn’t feel like we’re even in love,
    It matters to me.
    When I don’t know what to say,
    Don’t know what to do,
    Don’t know if it really even matters to you.
    How can I make you see?
    It matters to me.

    Maybe I still don’t understand
    The distance between a woman and a man.
    So tell me how far it is
    And how you can love like this,
    ’cause I’m not sure I can.

    When we don’t talk,
    When we don’t touch,
    When it doesn’t feel like we’re even in love,
    It matters to me.
    When I don’t know what to say,
    Don’t know what to do,
    Don’t know if it really even matters to you.
    How can I make you see?
    It matters to me.

    When I don’t know what to say,
    Don’t know what to do,
    Don’t know if it really even matters to you.
    How can I make you see?
    Oh, it matters to me.

    It matters to me.....
    It matters to me......


    I miss her so much.

    Current Mood: sad
    Current Music: "It Matters to Me" OVER and OVER and OVER again...
    Thursday, June 17th, 2004
    1:16 am
    Beware of el Lobo! You could get eaten...
    The Bible is full of references to lying and the agonies of punishment that await those who lie. However, these particular prophecies do little to quell humans' inherent tendencies to lie. Whether for reasons justified as noble or for more selfish causes, lying is an inescapable part of daily life. In Revelations the promise is, "The punishment for all liars shall be the lake of fire" (Dew 1). The lake will be a busy place.

    Why is it so easy for people to lie to your face? Some people say lying to delude someone into thinking things are better than they are is a kindness. I disagree. I loathe the fact that no matter how many people I meet, I will never meet more than maybe 5 who are truthful with me all of the time.


    I just get so frustrated. Beware the wolf. El Lobo will eat you... I hate to say it, Jen, where ever you may be.....but you were right. I hate admitting I am wrong. I wish I mattered more than I did and did less things to make myself appear to matter more. I hate myself. Then again, that's the problem - isn't it? The fact that I think so little of myself that everyone else must, too. And if everyone thinks so little of me, I have to exaggerate facts about myself to keep people's interest or even pity. Am I so worthless?

    *shrugs and nods slowly*

    I believe I am. Until I believe differently, I see no way I could change. I've gotten better, more truthful. Maybe I have sociopathic and psychopathic tendencies. Maybe I just don't deserve any lasting relationships. Not like I have given anyone any reason to trust me. Yet people still consider me approachable. They still come to me to talk and even for advice sometimes. Like I have all the answers. Psh! Apparently, listening isn't something many people do. And I do. I listen. I listen way more than I should. That's why I picked this journal name.

    "Don't speak, 'cause I know what you're saying..."

    I just want someone to listen to me and my inane unimportant factual ramblings for once. I want someone to take an interest in the words that come out of my mouth. Unlike my mom and some of my relatives who barely let me get a word in edgewise. Why on earth is it so important to us to be acknowledged? I feel like I don't really matter. I don't know what would change that feeling. I don't even know if it can be changed.

    Current Mood: drained
    Current Music: "When You're Gone" (By Richard Marx)
    Wednesday, September 10th, 2003
    12:30 pm
    Not all anniversaries are happy ones, and WALK FOR THE CURE 2003 (ATLANTA) donations request
    (I backdated this a few hours, because I was diagnosed at 12:30 pm, EST on this date with diabetes and I wanted this post to be the exact hour I was diagnosed...)

    "Diabetics are given an eating disorder as part of a prescription for survival. If we let it go too far, we, like anorexics and bulimics, will hurt ourselves, but to some degree our unnatural obsessions about eating are necessary."
    - Page 122 ("Sweet Invisible Body", by Lisa Roney)

    In honor of my 10th anniversary of being diagnosed with diabetes, I would ask that you all go to my cousin Susie's site and that you would donate money to the Walk For The Cure in my name.  (I need sponsors desperately!)  I don't think anyone realizes how expensive diabetes can be.  Or how many young lives are lost to it...

    From 9/10/02 (because I am lazy, although it HAS been edited):

    Start Time:  3:27 pm, EST
    End Time:  3:40 pm, EST

    10 years ago today, I lay in Arnold Palmer Hospital for Children and Women's ICU in a Diabetic Coma with not much hope of survival at 11 years, 10 months, and 2 weeks of age with a weight of 40 pounds and a height of 4'9".  But I lived.  I fluorished.  I acheived normal weight and stature.  But I wanted to stay little.  I never wanted to drive.  Or do anything grown-ups do.  I only wanted to play, read, learn, create, and invent with no responsibilities.  And here I am today...somewhere between 146 and 156 pounds, praying desperately for a weight of 100 pounds or less.  At a height between 5'4" and 5'6", praying desperately for the childhood I lost out on.  Because of the "trauma".  Diabetes invited me to dance at such a young age.  And I have not always accepted my disease.  I have griped and complained about it a ton in the past.  Depression and suicide at an age I was supposed to be planning my future - not my funeral.  Two years ago, I was Baker-Acted for the 4th time in my life.  Lakeside Alternatives.  This is where I was on 9/11.  Because I had updated My Living Will.  Because I had updated My Last Will and Testament.  Because I had a foolproof dramatic solitary plan and the volition and conviction to carry it out.  Because I was scared.  Has anything changed in 2 years?  I'm still scared, but I know I have Christ and Megan.  I no longer get hurt at home and wwhile I was homeless last year, I now have my very own apartment.  I've gained weight and lost weight.  I've gotten pregnant and miscarried, although not in the past year.  I've been beaten badly and had people accuse me of lying.  I got engaged in January of 2001 and led my fiancee to Christ in July of 2002.  Now, I don't think ANYONE could tear us apart from each other.  I've gone back and forth between Pro-Recovery and Pro-Ana Mia/Self Destruction.  I still want to disappear - but I think that's out of fear.  Fear that I may actually BE invisible.  I'm not as confused as I once was.  I have come out to my Godmother, my mom's side ('cept my twin uncles and grandparents), and my own immediate family.  My coming out has given me immense peace in admitting that I have discovered who I really am.  I went from having over 30 alters, to now only having 6.  In the past year, I have topped all of my previous recovery records.  I'm still hurting.  And I still need prayer.  But I AM A SURVIVOR!  (Philippians 4:12-13)  I have lived through things many may not have been able to.  I will win.  "They" will lose.  And I will be Victorious in Christ!

    3 of my favorite books on diabetes (There aren't many): 
    "A Rock And A Hard Place", by Alden R. Carter 
    "Sweet Invisible Body"
    , by Lisa Roney
    "All The Days of Her Life", by Lurlene McDaniel

    "Life is a dance.  Sometimes you lead and sometimes you follow.  And sometimes you dance with somebody that you don't like.  You have all been asked to dance with diabetes.  Who's leading?"
    - Paula Jameson (Diabetes Educator/Nurse Practitioner at NEMOURS in Orlando) at FCCYD Camp Winona Sea Camp 1998 or 1999 (she was crying)

    Current Mood: thirsty
    Current Music: Mercy Ministries CD
    Wednesday, September 3rd, 2003
    5:46 am
    Yeah, I'm really hurting for cash right now and I have just barely enough to go to the 2003 Atlanta Walk For The Cure in support of my baby cousin, Susie. Any ideas on fundraising? For pictures and a story about my beautiful 3 1/2 year old cousin, go here: Walk For Susie Albright


    I have doesn't have me.......most of the time. Man, I miss camp!

    Current Mood: hopeful
    Current Music: Bill Withers' "Lean On Me" (Unoffical Diabetes Camp song)
    Wednesday, August 27th, 2003
    5:03 pm
    5 questions...
    This is from Bria:

    1. Leave a comment, saying you want to be interviewed.
    2. I will respond; I'll ask you five questions.
    3. You'll update your journal with my five questions, and your five answers.
    4. You'll include this explanation.
    5. You'll ask other people five questions when they want to be interviewed.

    1) If you could get rid of one physical or mental ailment, which one would you choose and why?
    Honestly, as much as I gripe about them...I seriously doubt I would give up any of them. But I suppose if I had to pick.....I would pick my self-injurious behaviors. I think my diabetes helped to make me who I am, as well as the mental ailments I have had. I wouldn't want to get rid of the things that made me who I was, but I would gladly get rid of any or all of my SI Behaviors or thinking, etc.

    2) What is your best physical feature?
    My smile or my hair. I always get complimented on my hair by envious hairdressers and random people. And I have always liked my smile.

    3) When/how did you first know you were queer? How do you define queer?
    Well, I didn't really know EXACTLY what the word meant until I was about 15 or 16 years old. Years of Catholic School and being sheltered from the outside world are to blame for that. When I was younger, I was a tomboy. I loved climbing trees, hated playing with "girl's toys" (except for My Little Ponies and watching Rainbow Brite), and loved playing with my boy cousins. I do remember wanting to be more than friends with girls in elementary school, but since I was taught that I was supposed to like guys - I normally repressed those feelings and got crushes (Or what I thought to be crushes) on guys I was friends with. I recall having a "crush" on a popular girl (Hope..... ) in 7th grade (which is why I say I've sort of "known" I was gay since I was 13) and trying incredibly hard to get to be friends with her. Even to the point of writing some suicidal story in 8th grade in which she finds me almost dead from a self-induced diabetic seizure. She also finds my "suicide" note in the story. I never shared the story with anyone and when my mom found it, she put me in therapy and on medication immediately.
    My first crush that I actually aknowledged as a crush was in 10th grade. This was after I realized that I was very uncomfortable dating guys and that gay people not only existed, but that I was one of them. I was at least bi, if not a lesbian. The girl's name was Francis. I realized in the past year that the guys I had dated, I did so mainly because I was trying to please my mom. Normally I liked them fine as friends. They had great senses of humor, they were normally rough around the edges, and many of them I attempted to "fix" by dating them when friendship wasn't doing enough. Yeah, I know I am co-dependent.
    My first lesbian experience was at my Catholic Church's Family Retreat Camping trip towards the end of my Senior year of high school. Heather was one of my friends. Unfortunately, I was dating someone at the time and when I told him I had kissed her (I didn't want to lie.), he ended our relationship and I had to go stag to Senior Prom which sucked. I found out later from his sister that Drew had cheated on me during our relationship as well. With at least a few guys and 2 girls.
    Anyhow, because of my religious upbringing, I tried for very long to like guys. My best chance (the guy I was most attracted to, albeit small physical attraction - but better than none) was Richard. He was religious, funny, dramatic, compassionate, understanding... He was perfect. But the whole time I was with him, I kept thinking about my internet girlfriend, Megan. We've now been together since my 20th birthday (11/23/01) and I haven't regretted a moment of it. I even came out to my immediate family and a few aunts in the past year. I moved to Kansas to be closer to Megan and to help her out with school and help myself learn how to live on my own. I think I am doing pretty good in all of those areas.

    I am not sure how I would define "queer". I don't like using that word. I prefer "gay" or "homosexual", when speaking in general. I suppose I would define it by saying that personality is more important than gender. That's basically how I would define it. Sorry this was so long!

    4) If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?
    As long as my girlfriend is with me, I'd have to pick between:
    Australia; Ireland; Seattle, Washington; Eastern NY, relatively near NYC; or Tampa, Florida.

    5) What are your views on the current state of our nation?
    I believe we are going downhill into a sinful country of bigoted people full of hatred for each other and that scares me somewhat.

    Current Mood: nauseated
    Current Music: "This One's For The Girls" (Martina McBride)
    Wednesday, August 20th, 2003
    5:46 pm
    I don't know what to write...
    I feel as if I am slipping and I can't control my fall...

    I don't really want to go back into this. I know it could kill me. I am not hungry though (even though my stomach is growling) and I feel so numb. Physically I am sore and achey and in a whole lot of pain from crappy sleep or no sleep. So many horrible nightmares and bad blood sugars and tossing and turning and sleeping pills not working right EVER (Can't do anything about the pills, because MedicAid won't pay for any different ones, just one kind...).

    I feel like I haven't gotten anything done. I need to get this stupid culposcopy test done and I've been getting everything done as quickly as possible - it just isn't fast enough. I almost hope I do have cancer as that would fix my monetary problems - mommy and daddy would probably settle my debts and take care of me. I had over 300$ last Friday. I spent about 40$. Now it says I have -225$, which after transfering some money equated to -25$. Which means that in addition to that, I still owe 56$ in overdraft fees. I can't even find on my statement where on earth the -225$ came from!!! So, I called my dad and asked him nicely if he could loan me 100$ after telling him the situation. And he said, "No, you'll probably end up in jail. Sorry, that's the way it works." Oh so optimistic, ain't he?


    Then of course, Marie needs help. So, K has to come to the rescue. I always have to rescue everyone! No weakness allowed. I called SSI, and having Marie living with me will not increase my payments AT ALL. No idea if it affects food stamps yet. My case manager, Diane, hasn't called me back yet. Plus, Chriss is moving in in October. I can't support them. I shouldn't help them. I can't do it. Don't have the resources to. HELPING THEM could make me HOMELESS again. I do not want to lose my apartment.

    And I keep meaning to e-mail people an update of myself, along with my new address - but I keep putting it off. You may ask me why this is so. Because I am hoping to find out whether or not I go back to my ED/SI first? Because I am hoping to find out whether or not I have cancer first? I have no freakin'clue exactly why, but I am sure it is along these lines.....

    Why does it seem like no matter how well I am doing, I am getting set up for a fall?

    Current Mood: My brain hurts.......
    Current Music: My stomach rumbling and my fingers tapping the keyboard.....
    Sunday, August 3rd, 2003
    1:53 pm
    I think something broke inside of me...
    Have you ever had the feeling that something inside is clawing to get out of you? The weird prickly feeling you get when all the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and your heart won't stop pounding?

    I have gotten 3 hours of sleep in the last 2 days. My blood sugars have been horrible. I have had intense physical and emotional flashbacks so bad that we are terrified to even close our eyes after dark. When I tried to sleep this morning, I kept picturing a blade slicing through my ribcage, between my breasts, and cutting me open like they do in autopsies. The blade in my mind went through my skin like a hot knife through butter.

    Abba, I don't want to die like this. I've been praying. I've been on my knees since Wednesday night... When is this gonna end? What the heck am I crying for? And why can't I stop?

    At least I cry softly.....

    Current Mood: Absolute Terror
    Current Music: My heart is pounding so loud, I'm sure my neighbors can hear
    Sunday, July 27th, 2003
    10:53 pm
    The Soundtrack of My Life
    1.) Opening credits: "I Hope You Dance" - LeeAnn Womack

    2.) Waking-up scene: "Don't Let Me Get Me" - Pink

    3.) Average-day scene: "Bouncing off the walls again" - Sugarcult; "How I Spent My Summer Vacation" - The Ataris

    4.) First-date scene: "I Kissed A Girl" - J. Sobule; "Trust" - Sarah McLachlan; "Good Enough" - Melissa Etheridge

    6.) Love scene(s): "I'll Make Love To You" - BoyzIIMen; "Crazy" - K-Ci and Jo-Jo; "I Swear" - All4One; "Come to My Window" - Melissa Etheridge; "All My Life" - K-Ci and Jo-Jo; "Must Be Crazy For Me" - Melissa Etheridge

    7.) Hardcore sex scene: "The Perfect Drug" - Nine Inch Nails; "Last Night" - AzYet

    8.) Fight-with-friend scene: "Miserable" - Lit; "You Need A Hug" - The Ataris

    9.) Break-up scene: "The Hardest Part of Breaking Up... (...Is getting back your stuff)" - 2gether; "Bye, bye, bye" - BSB

    10.) Get-back-together scene: "I Promise" - Stacie Orrico; "Miserable" - Lit; "Ice Cream" - Melissa Etheridge

    11.) Fight-at-home scene: "Epiphany" - Staind; "For You" - Staind; "I'm Just a Kid" - Simple Plan; "Maybe I'll Catch Fire" - Alkaline Trio; "Family Portrait" - Pink

    12.) Depressing scene: "Somewhere I belong" - Linkin Park; "Dear Friend" - Stacie Orrico; "Strong Enough" - Stacie Orrico; "Precious Pain" - Melissa Etheridge

    13.) Life's okay scene: "Let Go" - Souljahz; "In This Diary" - The Ataris; "Grow Up" - Simple Plan; "The Middle" - Jimmy Eat World

    14.) Heartbreak scene: "Don't Leave Me" - BSB; "Addicted" - Simple Plan; "I'd Do Anything" - Simple Plan

    15.) Mental-breakdown scene: "Everytime I Fall" - Jaci Velasquez; "Mach 3" - Ghoti Hook; "Sick Cycle Carousel" - Lifehouse; "Angels Would Fall" - Melissa Etheridge

    16.) Driving scene: "How You Remind Me" - Nickelback

    17.) Lesson-learning scene: "Beautiful" - Christina Aguilera; "Life Makes No Sense" - The Ataris

    18.) Deep-thought scene: "There's Gotta Be (More To Life)" - Stacie Orrico

    19.) Flashback scene: "Graduation" - Vitamin C; "The Freshmen" - Verve Pipe; "Lean on Me" - Bill Withers

    20.) Getting high/high scene: "Yellow Submarine" - Beatles

    21.) Party scene: "Young and Hopeless" - Good Charlotte

    22.) Happy/crazy dance scene: Anything Latin or Swing.

    23.) Night driving scene: "No Diggity" - Blackstreet

    24.) Regret scene: "Somewhere Out There" - Our Lady Peace; "We Fall Down" - Bob Carlisle; "Lucky" - Britney Spears

    25.) Long-night-alone scene: "Damn Cold Night" - Avril Lavigne; "Only Hope" - Mandy Moore

    26.) Death scene: "Dear Anorexia" - Smokejumpers; "Ana's Song" - Silverchair; "Eleventh Commandment" - Collin Raye; "Unopened Letter to the World" - The Ataris

    27.) Closing credits: "Somewhere Out There" - An American Tail; "Once Upon a December" - Anastasia; "Someday" - All4One; "God Help the Outcast" - Demi Moore (Hunchback of Notre Dame)

    Current Mood: Numb, triggered, and weird
    Current Music: The air conditioner and my overactive mind...
    Tuesday, July 22nd, 2003
    12:11 am
    5 Random questions
    Yeah, I know I'm odd. Answer them in whatever way pleases you the most.

    1. What would you do if you knew you would die in a week?
    2. What would you do if you won the lottery and money was no object?
    3. If you found out you were going to live forever, what would you do?
    4. What would you do if you could fly then?
    5. What would you do if you could be invisible?

    Current Mood: hot
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