वहत दो यू दो व्हेन यौरे सुइसिदल!

What do you do when youre suicidal? The whole point of it is that you dont want help or that you think help doesnt exist. I have found myself back here time and time again. There is no cure. There are only slipshod panaceas.
"Try this, maybe this will work, or that, maybe that will work. It did last time. Why wont it work again? I have to search now again for something that will work. It seems hopeless and futile." This is my self-talk. "But if I stop searching, I will die. I want to just lie down and die. Spend the day unconcious. But the nights!!!!! The nights will then exist of cant-be-still anxiety. Of heart-pounding feverish sweating and wanting to run into the night, but I cant run away. It is in me."
The only way to kill IT, is to kill me. But I know I wont die. I just wont have a body and will IT still be there, haunting me into eternity? I dont seem to have any option at all.
Nothing goes right for me. The world doesnt seem to want what I have to offer. I had dreams and thats all they were. I hurt all over and have trouble moving, thinking, and feeling. I feel like exploding but I cant even cry. Not anymore. The tears are all gone now. I cried too many for my time and they are just gone.

सोमेथिंग अल्वाय्स हौन्डिंग Me

Commercial: Daddy is so concerned about his little girl driving alone for the first time. He literally sees her as a little girl still, even though she is really a teenager. He will always feel that way about her no matter how old she gets. There is nothing in the whole world she could ever do to make him stop loving her. Such security and love is instilled in her from the very beginning of life. She has never known anything else and just cannot identify with anyone who has not had a father like hers.
Me: My dad was enthralled with me from the very beginning. He may have even made my mother jealous, in the very least he made her uneasy. He had an unnatural interest in me and in my care. Repeated over and over again like a mantra, how cute and sweet I was. How he would watch me sleep and swoon over my long eyelashes. There was nothing I could do to ever make him see me as ugly. I have found out later in life that one of his things he did with his daughters was to take long baths together behind locked doors. What went on, only my subconscious and he knows. I grew and my mother took me away because of divorce, and then I came back by default, because she had died. By then I was a gawky 9 year old. My dad had created another cute wonderful little baby girl and spent all his time with her, just as he had with me. I was shoved in a corner and barely was noticed. No more compliments or expressions of love of any kind. His mother had to make him give me a hug and kiss, because he highly resisted. I could tell he thought I had turned into quite the ugly child and besides, I was no baby anymore. I knew what aging felt like at the tender age of nine years old.
Not only did he not give me love, he didnt give me material things either. No Christmas presents. No presents of any kind. No food, unless catsup soup counts as food. I would have no clothes if it hadnt have been for other people. Actually I wouldnt have had anything, if it werent for other people. My grandma picked up the slack. She felt she had too. That caused all sorts of jealousy between family factions. No one seemed to like me except grandma. There were others that briefly came in and out of my life who tried to do good by me too, but all in all it was always grandma left holding the bag. She is where I got all my toys, my food, my clothes, and my love.
I was replaced because of how I looked. This led me into so such disturbing behavior as I got older. I began looking for a daddy as soon as I was old enough to have a boyfriend. I never stopped looking for a daddy. I thought nothing of myself or thought I was worth anything or was anybody good. I started drinking, which only made my behavior worse, because any little bit of restraint I had had, went right out the window with a drink. No self esteem, no self respect, no self love described me. I sought only appearances, and love could never be found no matter where I looked. Everyone saw me as vain and stuck up and either was jealous of me or used me. I had no friends. I had to learn the things I was supposed to learn when I was a baby. I sought spirituality for this and eventually I learned alot.
Now I will jump to something different all together. Seemingly it has nothing to do with what I was just writing about, but to me, it has everything to do with it. I have oral cancer. Ive been fighting it for 10 years now. I think I have another tumor starting. If that is true, I will have to go through the agonizing surgery again. I dont know how much tongue I will have left or whether Ill be able to talk. I see this as always something hounding me. It started from the moment I was born and happiness just flees from my fingers. Now as I am older and should finally enjoy my life after working so fucking hard on myself, just to get to a place where I can love and be loved, I get cancer that hounds me, just wont go away. I just want to cry buckets of tears right now, Im so down. It seems I never get a break. Its easy enough to forget my childhood when things are great, but when things seem never to be great, my childhood haunts me like a demon.

Dream

I was in my family home and as I looked out the window, gunshot erupted between some men. A bullet hit me in the neck and lodged there. I didnt feel it at first and a short time later realized it was there. I knew I should get mrdical attention and told my mom. She said I didnt need help and besides, the ER was too expensive. I asked for help from other family members and got the same response. Most of them however didnt even hear me at all. I tried to help myself by calling 911 but got a sex line instead. My friends came by and didnt think anything was wrong with me. I yelled for the neighbors because I was feeling weak, sick, and my heart was slowing down. They either werent home or didnt hear me. One person, sick of hearing me talk about my wound, chased me into the field trying to put me down like a sick animal. I survived and walked back to the house where I called 911 again because I knew the end was near. My heart was hardly beating at all and my skin had turned green from the sepsis from the festering bullet. Their was an ambulance for someone else outside and I struggled to get out there to get its attention. I collapsed at the closed back door of the vehicle. Just as I collapsed I glimpsed my ambulance coming for me in the distance. And I saw that everyone finally realized the seriousness of my condition, but it was too late.
I have dreams like this most nights. There is no relief from it even at night. Its always a different story with the same message.

नो ओने लूकेद फॉर ME

As I left peoples lives for one reason or another, almost always not of my choosing, no one ever looked for me. I was there for a time, than gone. Those that I thought cared for and loved me just forgot, went on with their lives as if I had never existed. Those relationships meant everything to me because I got so little attention, I lapped it up like a thirsty animal. But then they were just done with me. Mom died and so did that whole side of the family (for me). My cousins were the only siblings I had had. They forgot about me. I thought I was more important to them than that, but they had each other, why did they need me. They werent lacking anything. My moms parents told me never to contact them again because I couldnt handle life within their rigid parameters of what they thought I should be. I disappointed them and "my mother would have been very ashamed of me". Best friends in school dropped out of my life as I left our school. There was a new school every year for me. Sometimes 2 schools in a year because no one wanted me or knew what to do with me. My "best friends" forgot about me and never thought of me again. My dads side of the family eventually lost contact with me and never thought to look me up. "I wonder what happened to "J". No, they didnt wonder nor care. When I tell any of these people what happened to me in my life, they are shocked because they did not enquire about me. After my divorce at 18 from my husband, I was kicked out of my sons life. None of them looked for me either. By that time however I was used to it. Used to not being thought about or cared for.
To those very few people that I can count on my one hand, that truly loved me in the short time we had together, and who tried to stay in touch and thought about me and loved me no matter what I did or didnt do, I owe my undying gratitude. When I think of you I smile and I feel warm inside. Its because of you that I know what love can be.

इल नेवर गेट ओवर It

First of all, I want to get this fact out of the way. Most of the world is in much more of a dire situation than I ll ever have to worry about. I, in comparison, have so much and had so many more opportunities to have a wonderful life. That said, I now will say that this blog today is about my life compared to the average American born in the 50's.
I watch something on TV that hits a button and I become sooo bitter! A Chinese girl is looking for her first house. She wants a one bedroom, because thats all she can afford on her own. Theres disagreement between her and her parents, not because they dont think she should do it, but because a one bedroom isnt good enough for their precious daughter. She must have a 2 bed/2bath!!!!! And they will give her the extra $1'000's of dollars to make that happen!!!!! I sit there and just cannot conceive of that ever have had happened to me. EVER!!!! My Dad would LITERALLY not give me a penny! He found a penny when I was small. I asked if I could have it and he hoarded it away into his pocket and changed the subject. This in a nutshell could describe my education on money and my lack of it. More importantly, how my Dad thought of me as a "precious daughter" worthy of care! Not!!!
My Mother was not any better. Her discipline level was beyond what any normal child could adhere to. Her coldness was only rivaled by the refrigerator. Her idea of me growing up spoiled and a "man lover" (her words), was idiotic at best. Anything at all that would have "stroked my ego" was not allowed and punishable. My first desire that I remember is that I wanted to be a ballerina. I wanted dancing lessons sooo bad! I entertained anyone who cared to watch and this got her so upset. She hated that as much as she hated me. I was certainly not a "precious little daughter" to her. I was the source of shame and disgust to her. "I was like my father" which was the worst thing she could say to me because they divorced when I was 3, and she hated him with a wild passion.
So the standard of care for "J" (me), was minimal, just enough to survive physically. Emotionally I was bankrupt already at 5 years old. I started having physical manifestations of my rotten life already as a baby when nightmares visited me every night. They were filled with recurring terrors like devils, being pursued by monsters, being taken away from home and I could never return no matter how much I tried. I still have these same dreams, that is why I remember them. They have never gone away. When I was 6, further physical manifestations started happening. I would be taken out of school bent over in pain so bad, doctors thought I had appendicitis. I never did. It mysteriously appeared and disappeared. Its funny how my Mother was in the disease process of dying of ulcerative colitis. I watched her suffer for over a year, bleed to death, waste away until she was nothing but skin, bones, and the colors black and blue. I was told her heart just stopped. It was then I knew my heart could just stop, and there would be no more me either. I became mentally ill in my fear of death and the uncontrollable anxiety attacks began. The attacks controlled every aspect of my life. There was no escape. There was no one to help. There was no drug that worked. And what did the judge do? He sentenced me to nearly 2 years in the the dregs of mental hospitals, Winnebago State Hospital, where the worst of the worst were. Ed Gaines was there. I feared for my life because I was the youngest and I was mercilessly picked on, terrorized, and beat up. There was even an attempted rape. My dad did nothing to help me. He didnt even come to see me. How old was I? I was 12!!!!!
I cant get over this. I just cant. Its easy enough for other people to say to me, think about good things. Or family members saying to me, just pray. I started praying since I was a small child and yet this all still unfolded for me. Praying all that while, really helped! Do you know what I would like to say to these people? No you dont want to know and I dont want to tell you because in my heart I know they mean well. But they have no God damn idea of what I went through.
This isnt all of it. Its just the tip of the iceberg. Maybe writing about it will release me from my pain. Im willing to try. There is nothing else left for me.

माय थौघ्ट्स तूर्ण तो दीप एंड Dark

Its dark where I am now. I cant expect anyone to understand this or to understand me. Im free associating my thoughts for this blog today so I can get it out. This is not a masterpiece work by any means. I will watch the english because I like to be perfect and I want people to see me as intelligent. It bothers the heck out of me to sound stupid. Im 57 years old. Therein lies the problem. It is a problem for me. Im not young and beautiful anymore. I cant get anything based on how I look anymore. I feel like giving up and letting go. Theres plenty wrong with me physically, that leaving could easily happen soon. I really just have to lie down, stay there, and let my desire to not be anymore overtake me. This is the nitty gritty folks. This is how it is inside my life. This is what I struggle with nearly every day. It was easier when I was pretty and when there were lots of other pretties to be had to distract me from my pain and emptiness. Any pretties I try to obtain now are very few and not very pretty at all. In fact they are pathetic. Because in this old fat body lives a person who still feels 16. What I see and what I am does not fit with what I feel or is the truth at all. I felt very ugly till I was 18 and then I got contact lenses. Males started falling all over me. Suddenly I had a power I was uncomfortable with and didnt know how to handle. I still felt ugly inside however, even though I could at times see me through anothers eyes and see maybe some of what they saw. I totally relied on that and couldnt do anything else to give myself love. I let whoever wanted to take from me, take whatever and however much they wanted from me. I thought I was getting something in return, love. Then I wondered why no one ever stuck around or wanted to make me a forever person in their life. I really didnt figure that out till it was all gone and unretrievable. Not until I couldnt play those tiresome games anymore, or had a bounty of good health and energy to give anymore, or until my health wouldnt allow me to drink and have one night stands anymore, or till I wouldnt tolerate men who abused and cheated on me anymore. When this was finally all over, I had nothing more left. Not to give or a place to receive it.
Now I want a new life, a new start, freshness, health, beauty, a lucrative art career but Im an old 57 year old fat woman in ill health, depressed beyond my ability to cope and just cant find the right meds to stabilize my bio chemistry. My body wants to kill me one minute then live in a fantasy world the next. I could have done something with my life if I had a body that didnt betray me, a body I could rely on, a body that I drove rather than it driving me.
It seems everyone is either looking for an artist thats well known or looking to discover "a young emerging artist"! If I see or hear that one more time I might just off myself right here and now. Do older women have no value? What makes their work worthless or unremarkable? Besides, all Im doing is switching from one unattainable dream to another. I cant be that super model or famous actress anymore so now I want to be another O Keefe. I think it all comes down to sex, sex appeal, the if or maybes of possibly getting in my beautiful pants to take something from me. But, oh, thats right, Im not that anymore. There is no sex to be gotten from me, so why bother? I really think that is a womans worth in this world and if she doesnt grow a pair of balls or secure her place before she becomes obsolete, she doesnt have a snowballs chance in hell to survive happily the rest of her bitter sorry life.

हेअड्स साउथ इन अन Instant

The trouble with being bi poler is in one instant everything can change. A word, a look, an opinion by someone else can change your immediate reality. I was feeling great today, a day that is traditionally the hardest day of the whole year for me. I thought I would be handling it well this year for the first time. And then a button is pushed innocently, because others are completely unaware of what my buttons are, and Im off on the downhill slide to Sadsville.
I am so disconnected with my family. Its a never ending misunderstanding, hurt, anger, and withdrawel. No matter how much I try to connect on any meaningful level, I get my feelings hurt. Maybe I am too sensitive. No one can truly feel what another feels inside, or what that person has been through in their life. But where does love come in? Unconditional love. And forgiveness? Mothers day is all about unconditional love. Who on earth is supposed to love us like our mothers? It is expected of mothers to love unconditionally. It is the highest expression of love. But are we willing to love everyone this way? No. Alot of us didnt get these perfect mothers that is so rampantly portrayed by the media incessantly. I didnt have one, not only that, but she died when I was 9. I wasnt that to my son because I was a troubled motherless teenager with an abusive husband and a newborn. I ran away to maintain my sanity and my life. And for that I am brandished with a scarlet X by everyone for the rest of my life. No one understands, no one wants to talk about it, everyone is bitter, and I dont even exist in some circles. I feel like vermin who roams the earth. Maybe that makes them feel better that Im punished for the rest of my life. It is not cared about, that I struggled everyday for normalcy. It doesnt matter that I cried and prayed that maybe someday I would be given a reprieve for my sins.
Its funny how my mothers parents, my grandparents, said they wanted nothing more to do with me when I fled an abusive marriage. I literally left running down a country road shoeless in Birnamwood Wisconsin. I ran through cow pastures to escape my husband who was determined to drag me back. I went to my grandmas who really didnt want me there. I ended up once again the ward of the state and eventually went back into the mental hospital. There was no where else for me to go. And yes, I was being a terrible mother. I ran away to be an actress according to my mother in law. She made sure everyone knew the lie and not the truth. That is the story everyone has recited concerning me. I am just not worth much to them.
My heart is just breaking with no healing in sight. Im just so sad now, I probably should sign off before I say more. More that I shouldnt really say.