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When I was diagnosed last July with several mental “issues” and finally taken seriously and treated for it – I began to live. It’s not even a re-birth, because I was never really alive at all. I just existed…”living a life of quiet desperation.” But, I didn’t know any better because it was my normal. I just assumed I was not a happy person. And I never would be. Period.

I was never depressed – that, amazingly, isn’t one of my issues. My thing, well the MAIN thing, was anxiety, paranoia, and anger. No, not anger. Rage. I was always enraged. Boiling inside and ready to explode at any moment. And I would explode – always around the people that love me the most. I guess because I feel safe around them – I know they will never leave or hurt me no matter what I say or do – so, I hurt them. And I hated myself (even more) every time I did it. I just lived in a constant state of guilt. But, I kept hurting them.

My whole life was a crazy, roller-coaster ride. My mom knew from when I was around 7 years old that I had some pretty major problems going on in my head – but, nobody would listen or take it seriously. Even though she didn’t find it normal for a 7 year old to talk about killing herself every night. My mom told me (recently) that she spent every night of my life in constant fear that I would hurt or kill myself. I hate that I did that to her. She says “I’m your mom. It’s my job to love you no matter what.” But, she’s wrong. It isn’t our job as moms – there are lots of moms that don’t really give a shit – but, she did. Always. She never gave up on me. Ever. And she gave me life – twice.

Since I lived in this manic world, I made a lot of impulsive and, well, stupid decisions. I just did what felt good. If I wanted it – I did it. Consequences were a foreign term to me – I honestly never even considered the effects of anything.

I would seek out drama and create crisis and cause chaos – this is just how I lived. If any one could see inside my head, they would probably go insane just by visiting. It was constant noise. Constant thoughts – scattered and wild. Paranoid delusions of people who love(d) me trying to conspire with each other to hurt me (emotionally) some way.

There was always fear. There was always rage. There was always pain. It never stopped. For 39 years, it never stopped. Until now.

I went to the doctor last summer on the verge of complete break down. I was exhausted from the years and years of mania. Being crazy is exhausting. I have 3 young kids and I just couldn’t deal with my crazy brain any more. I was so tired. So done.

So – here I am learning how to live. It makes me ecstatic (of course) but I feel a different emotion every hour of every day. There are so many emotions I have to deal with.

  • I am relieved to feel normal and happy and content. I never even imagined how this would be.
  • I am angry that it took almost 40 years of my life to be able to feel normal.
  • I am sad that I had no childhood and had such a horrible time growing up.
  • I am guilty for hurting all the people that I hurt so much.
  • I am confused with this new “brain” – where do I go from here. I have gotten myself into a whole world of shit from the years of stupid choices I made.
  • I am sexual. I am intimate with my husband (of 11 years). I have never experienced intimacy. Ever. It’s been amazing.
  • I am terrified. Of going back. Of being intimate and vulnerable – and being hurt. Because now he has the capability to really and truly rip my heart out.
  • I am tired from all the years of crazy. I feel like I could just sleep for months on end.

So – here goes. One foot in front of the other. We just do the best we can with what we have. That’s all we can do, right?

At least for once in my life – I am actually looking forward to the journey.


I recently received a mention at this blog, Mother Pie, and of course I had to surf on over and check it out. Her blog is great – check it out here.

Thanks, Mother Pie!

I have received some wonderful comments on this blog – especially in the last month or so – at a time in my life when I have been completely unable to respond or even show how grateful I am. Since it's 1am now – and I have been exhausted all day, until now – I want to catch up and say "thank you" to all my great readers – and to every single comment you have made. Even the ones who disagree with me or don't have much nice to say – I love and cherish all my comments.I am a writer. An artist. I live for feedback. If somebody takes the time to write to me – whether they agree or not – it means I have touched them. And for that – my work is done. That's my pay-off for this crazy addiction, this sickness, I have. My obsession and compulsion with writing and blogging. I love the blogging because it offers instant feed back and human interaction – which I sorely lack as a freelance writer. Even with all I have had published – there is rarely a case of receiving any amount of feedback.

I always wonder to myself if my article or post helped somebody. I hope it did. I hope it does. Even to know that you aren't alone – that can make all the difference in the world.

So – for my biggest commentator this past couple weeks – I want you to visit his blog at

And – again – thank you. Even if you haven't commented – but you read and it matters to you – thank you. You are helping to fill my soul and fulfill my purpose.

If you are obsessed with sites like –,, – on and on – you need to tag this web site –

They list all the most popular links and update it constantly. It has all the urls I mentioned above and also google video, you tube, wired….

I love finding more and more things on the internet to keep me mindlessly surfing instead of working and writing and making some…what is that called again?…oh yeah, money. Sheesh.

Sorry I sound really grumpy and bitchy right now, but I am just feeling more annoyed than usual at the general population. People. Today my target – kids. Other than my own – I don’t like kids. People think their honesty and bratty ways are so cute. Uh. Not so much. It’s annoying, frustrating, and makes me just want to reach over and smack the shit out of them. Brats.

Kids are mean. Downright mean as hell. They say what they want, when they want, to whomever they want – and don’t give a damn. Bad thing is – their parents usually don’t give a shit, either. They either ignore it or laugh it off or act like their “little Johnny” would never say such a thing. Yeah, well I gotta few things to tell ya about lil Johnny boy…bitch. Wake up.

Some little kid ran by my boy today and yelled “hey, fat boy!”

All I can say is – thank God it happened to my boy and not my girl, since boys seem to be a lot easier to console about it than girls are. He was just sort of pissed off – but, I could tell in his eyes that it hurt. Goddam little brat. I hate people. They are just idiots.

So – I know it happens. My sister had a big birthmark on her cheek (she still has it, but it’s almost invisible from several surgeries) and it covered most of her cheek. It was dark brown and really big. Let’s just say up front – she was (and still is) a beautiful girl. I am about 9 years older than her – so, I would usually be with her when we went anywhere.

Every. single. day. Several times a day. Somebody would make a rude comment about her birthmark. Every. fucking. day. And mostly adults – not kids….people – adults. WTF? They would call her “Spot”. They would say with a grin “is your mama beatin’ you up?” Or ask over and over and over and over – what happened to your face?

What is wrong with people? Do they just not have a life of their own at all, so they need to focus on others and hurt them? Why do they get such a thrill from hurting other people? I don’t get it. I can’t even imagine thinking of things like that. Ever. Never. Ever. I would never purposely say something to another human being that would hurt them in any way. Even if they asked. Even if it was the truth. Why would I?

I just don’t get off by hurting other people. It’s not my thing. Now – I don’t go around being all smiley and cutesy and complimenting, either. I just mind my own business. If somebody’s in trouble or being hurt – I will step in and help in a quick second – I have many times before. I just don’t think twice about it. I think you are just as guilty watching as you are doing something hurtful to another person.

Where do these people come from that cheer on a bully beating another kid? Or root on a gang rape? Or laugh and joke at a retarded boy being teased? Or just walk away and act like they didn’t see anything? What’s wrong with these people?

All I know is I can sleep at night. I have no demons in my closet. If I were to go to heaven tomorrow and face judgement – I would be okay with it. Not that I am perfect – God, no, so fucking far from perfect – but, I have never intentionally hurt another person and don’t even consider it.

The question is – how do people like that sleep at night? How do they look in the mirror and feel okay with themselves? I just don’t get it.


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