No time for breakdowns!

What if we have it all wrong? Who can say for sure that water isn't air and colors exist? Charles Kingsley could be right, the keeper is just a poacher turned inside out!
It's almost 6 in the morning and i haven't been tired yet, i've been up all night. Hopefully that's not a bad sign. Oh well, we'll see.

In other exciting news, I will be playing the role of Peter Pan in my community theatre's summer production of Peter Pan the Musical ! Vair vair exciting. Of course, i'll have to get on that healthy diet thing and do some cardio, i need a kickass lung capacity. And i get to fly! haha. So i'm really nervous what with performance anxiety, but im too excited to notice much right now. All is well.

My darling came home from new york today, presents in hand :) haha. He is very sweet. I've decided i deserve someone who will treat me right, and he treats me splendidly. We're going to watch Donnie Darko tomorrow.

I think i just want to sit in a coffee shop and read about quantum mechanics and discuss philosophy all day...

I guess i had so much on my mind and nowhere to get it out, so here i am! Haha. I've been very good at self control lately. I don't scream or anything much, and i just lie in bed and let sickness and madness pass. I'm a wonderful little actress, putting on smiles when i need to. MY MOTHER who reads my blog behind my back said she's "not even sure" if i have an "illness". WHAT?! Oh, sure mom, people who are perfectly healthy and stable go to psychologists once a week and take seven pills a night just to stay functional. You think this is some show i put on? You think its fun for me or something? That its the easy way out? Hell fucking no. I didn't want my grades to drop, i didnt want to lose some of my best friends because they couldn't handle my insanity! i dont want to drive away everyone i care about, i dont want to have scars for the rest of my life, i dont want to lie awake at night telling the music to stop playing and the voices to shut up, i dont want to be completely unpredictable from one day to the next! It's hell. So shove a little bit of sympathy up your ass. Im only sixteen, for christ's sake.

Whew. Rant over. Sorry, guys... I dont say that kind of thing to people's faces anymore. I'll just get in trouble. I just wish i had a therapist on speed dial, you know?
The sun is coming up and i hear birds outside my window. I may as well go meditate as the sun rises, since im up..




There are lone cemeteries,


tombs full of soundless bones,

the heart threading a tunnel,

a dark, dark tunnel :

like a wreck we die to the very core,

as if drowning at the heart

or collapsing inwards from skin to soul.



There are corpses,

clammy slabs for feet,

there is death in the bones,

like a pure sound,

a bark without its dog,

out of certain bells, certain tombs

swelling in this humidity like lament or rain.

-Death Alone

Im going to get freudian on you

Forgive me if my mind jumps around a lot on this one.

Mother, was i wanted? You didn't plan me. I know you were upset with my father over finances. You wouldn't have needed all that extra money if you hadn't had another baby... I wonder often if i was neglected or handled roughly as a baby. It's not as if i would remember, after all. All i recall are spankings and things. I didn't show it, but i grew up with fear in my heart. Fear and insecurity. Once i was old enough to recognize what trust meant, i realized i didn't trust anyone. I grew up with no close bonds in my family. Mother and father were distracted with their own problems - they are only human, after all. My oldest sister was busy being a teenager, and the middle was preoccupied getting the spotlight as often as possible. I gave up long before i would ever try to steal it from her.

       My father used to play these games where he would chase me around the house, pretending to be a monster, brandishing a belt. I always laughed and pretended to like it. I would run into the bathroom because it had a lock on the door and hide in the shower. I was always very afraid that the real monster inside of him would come out. I remember having nightmares where he chased me around the house with a baseball bat trying to kill me.. with this crazy look in his eye.

       I never saw him hurt my mother. He only slapped me around a little bit, presumably to toughen me up. I saw him throw things and rip the phone off the wall once. I think he pined for a son. He never even had brothers. 

       I like to think i had an active imagination as a child, but honestly, i think i was plain paranoid. I did the usual checking under the bed and in the closets repeatedly for monsters... i checked the doors to make sure they were locked. I had to sleep with my door closed so that i could hear anyone who opened it. My bed had to face the door. I didn't like to play with my back exposed, because someone could sneak up on me. I didn't like going outside at night, because robbers and murderers could hide more easily.

       Around my friends, i was the one who avoided conflict the most, probably because i had enough at home. I was very insecure, especially the closer i came to puberty and when i got chubby in elementary school. I've had body image issues ever since. I got picked on by boys a lot. It left me deeply scarred, and probably led to my anorexia.

It's just interesting to analyze one's childhood, that's all.

Now I need opinions - i haven't had psychotic features before, and i don't think i do now, but i am afraid to speak up in case that is the conclusion that they jump to. Im not talking about the conversations i have with "inanimate" things like the flowers and the moon or anything. Lately i've been hearing more and more sounds... I hear someone playing classical music as if the piano were in my bedroom. The notes are out of rhythm and are very discordant. It's sharp and unpleasant, and makes me want to cringe. I don't like it. Also, i hear drums, too.. In patterns. They crescendo. I never recognize the sounds. I hear muffled voices as if a group of people were talking about me across the room. It makes me nervous. I have often heard someone whispering my name. It sounds evil, not comforting. It's not a voice i recognize.. I don't know. I've heard of Musical Ear Syndrome and certain types of odd tinnitus, but they usually occur in the elderly or hard of hearing people. What do you think?

I don't usually see things by the way. There's the occasional trick of the eye where i see objects in place of other ones (i saw potatoes on my floor one time, when really it was a pile of shoes.. not potatoes) and i see the moon's face move when i talk to it. I see things move in the shadows, sure. I see things in the corner of my eye that run too fast to look at. But that's all. Nothing solid, nothing that speaks to me. I create people in my mind that talk to me there but that's completely imagined, i dont perceive it through the senses.

I heard strange noises in the ceiling last night. I spent most of the night huddled underneath four blankets drenched in sweat, yet freezing cold. I hate the chills. I was a bit nauseous but not too bad. The only thing i really did today was eat with my grandparents. It did require showering and dressing though, which was refreshing. My ex best friend told me he missed me. He would like to be friends again. I have missed him very much, so it made my day a lot better.

The oil spill is breaking my heart, the poor environment.. i cant watch it on TV anymore. It reminded me of a poem, like most things do...

The Earth Falls Down
by Anne Sexton

If I could blame it all on the weather,

the snow like the cadaver's table,
the trees turned into knitting needles,
the ground as hard as a frozen haddock,
the pond wearing its mustache of frost.
If I could blame conditions on that,
if I could blame the hearts of strangers
striding muffled down the street,
or blame the dogs, every color,
sniffing each other
and pissing on the doorstep…
If I could blame the bosses
and the presidents for
their unpardonable songs…
If I could blame it on all
the mothers and fathers of the world,
they of the lessons, the pellets of power,
they of the love surrounding you like batter…
Blame it on God perhaps?
He of the first opening
that pushed us all into our first mistakes?
No, I'll blame it on Man
For Man is God
and man is eating the earth up
like a candy bar
and not one of them can be left alone with the ocean
for it is known he will gulp it all down.
The stars (possibly) are safe.

At least for the moment.

The stars are pears

that no one can reach,

even for a wedding.

Perhaps for a death.

 

Pacing floors

And i have returned! My brain's been too dull to write.

I've been bumped up on my depakote again.. Today it has me stuck in the land of the Really Really Ill frolicking on the banks of the Shitty River. Sigh.
I havent changed or showered or any of that good stuff, i've been sitting around feeling awful, but such is the life. Tomorrow i may feel grand.

Also, i'm always a little stressed between auditions and casting. I had auditions and callbacks for Peter Pan the musical earlier this week, so we'll see how that goes. I was very sore, i simply must get back in shape.

Anyway, like i said, brain dead. I missed some medications this weekend and had a minor breakdown.. throwing things, crying spazzes, cursing and shouting at people, etc. I was very irritable. I sat in my yard and talked to the moon again for a long time. I thought i was responsible for all the death in the world. Hm.

Also, I went to see Robin Hood, it was epic as fuck.

i sleep so much. I wander around in house shoes with my blanket wrapped around me because i am always cold. I am about to go eat some tofu and broccoli, even though eating isn't very appealing currently...

Refreshing myself on Freud is pleasant though. If only i didn't get mauled by mosquitoes every time i went outside id read in the shade..

I'll be right back.

**
Anyway.. Im getting nauseous. Ugh. im going to be up for a while, i like the night anyway, but still. i just wish i could sleep until something stimulating comes along. Ive been inking again.. By that i mean cutting and inking it in, it fades away eventually but im not supposed to be doing that anymore. Its only been a little bit though. It's not like it hurts, i don't do it as an emotional release anymore. It's just an endorphin addiction, perhaps :) Feel-good chemicals are released by all pain, after all. It just makes me feel better, like a drug. At least im not actually doing drugs, much.

A good friend of mine found out his girlfriend may be bipolar. From his description, she reminds me almost exactly of myself at my onset. Closing off, doesn't want to be a "burden", swinging but has a tendency toward depression.. It makes me feel better to know that i can use my experiences to help others through the confusing times, because im sure she doesnt know what the fuck is going on in her mind right now. Welcome to the club, S.

On my latest DSM symptom check i still meet 7 of 7 symptoms for mania and 7 of 9 symptoms for major depression. I think i am just going to settle into the illness, because it is a part of me. I don't think i would function without it... I'd be lost. Do we let these illnesses define us? I dont think so. But maybe we have to.






Keeping Quiet
by Pablo Neruda

Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still.

This one time upon the earth,
let's not speak any language,
let's stop for one second,
and not move our arms so much.

It would be a delicious moment,
without hurry, without locomotives,
all of us would be together
in a sudden uneasiness.

The fisherman in the cold sea
would do no harm to the whales
and the peasant gathering salt
would look at his torn hands.

Those who prepare green wars,
wars of gas, wars of fire,
victories without survivors,
would put on clean clothing
and would walk alongside their brothers
in the shade, without doing a thing.

What I want shouldn't be confused
with final inactivity;
life alone is what matters,
i want nothing to do with death.

If we weren't unanimous
about keeping our lives so much in motion,
if we could do nothing for once,
perhaps a great silence would
interrupt this sadness,
this never understanding ourselves,
and threatening ourselves with death,
perhaps the earth is teaching us
when everything seems to be dead
and then everything is alive.

Now i will count to twelve
and you keep quiet and i'll go.

The Second Coming of Fish-Eye

that is the title of a long poem i am working on. it is based on one of the people i imagine, one of they who keep me sane

I always say i will update, then i just post anew, haha. Lies, lies..

I constantly hear that people are hopeless when they believe nothing matters in the end. They find no motivation, no reason to carry on. I thought about this as i walked along this afternoon.... Believing that nothing *matters* in the sense that people typically mean gives me a feeling of total freedom. It makes me much happier. It isn't stressful, it doesn't cause me worry. All i have to do is be alive, i can concentrate on my constant curiosity and analysis of things. I can spend my life exploring and appreicating what has been put around me on this world, in this particular reality i currently exist in.. If i could explore other realities, alternate universes, i would be a happy camper.
Anyway, I suppose people don't make much sense to me, sometimes.


One of my favorite poems of all time - "Bestiary" by Pablo Neruda. I feel as if he wrote it while looking at my soul.

It is, indeed, frustrating... infinitely frustrating.. to be so seemingly limited in communication with the world outside of humankind. interaction is possible, but it is not the same... i wish it were, the limits are so unfair! There must be some further means of conversing, something outside of traditional language. I have to find the secret. If i must become part of the Earth to fully understand, so be it. Until then i won't stop striving.
I love it all too much.

I am on the decline yet i feel magic. And sort of electric.

I would like to crawl down
into the furnace and let
the plastic melt from me, so i
may be born.

a shell fell into my arms...
knocked down by the storm
a little earth womb between my
clumsy fingertips.

This is the room where my demons live
The walls are blank stares since i took my past down
As if that meant it didn't exist..
Bookshelves lined with worlds and the corner
where i used to cry out for my soul, to pray,
looks lonelier, even, than I. Pitiful.
It begs me to pick up those books, to kiss them
And hold them like holy children again.
Pages and pages waiting to claw my eyes out
with memory and feeling..
Dresses hang in closets without bodies
And nobody to love them.
My old camcorder does not work.
But if it did, there would be nothing
worth capturing
for later

Just old scribbles. See you soon.

Your heart and mine

There is plenty to write about, but i doubt i'll remember the half of it.
Medication rising, stabilizing. But that's whatever. I'm almost into some good free time.. Hopefully my parents will take their pissy pants off soon. they worry and care and blah blah, okay cool, but shit, if you think im making a mistake let me fucking learn from it, okay?
Oh well.

It seems im told to seize the day, yet when i try, im bitched at for not planning enough for the future. Why do i suck at happy mediums?
Oh wait, thats right. Im goddamn bipolar.

Also, i'm really tired.. I feel like i should have more energy than this. Like my human system should be a little more efficient.

My brain is a dead zone.
I think Mother nature set a spark
in the hearts of our developing minds
our advances in consciousness
but we turned it into a forest fire
of greed and arrogance....
utter destruction

Sigh.

I hope nothing matters in the end.

This post will be updated soon.

Not a Duck Duck Duck

not a goose goose goose... haha

3 hour absorption rate? Nox

Mother, let me into your luscious caves. Do not hide secrets from me in your caverns. Even the rosebuds are withering, caked in their own blood.

our intellect assumes instinctively that the world is motionless, things are there and motion is added to them as it were. we try to reconstruct motion starting from motionlessness, but in reality it is motion not things that is primary. things are not entities to which motion is added but mental crystallizations of motion..
it seems to follow from this that the world is essentially mental, each of us is a physical body moving among other physical bodies and subject to all the laws of the physical universe..


created ex nihilo?
i wonder what the world is like apart from my consciousness. not as an object of my perception.

but there is hair burning in the stove, darling, why cant the children spell u-n-i-v-e-r-s-e?


I have had a wonderful day. i smell like boy.

Good Vibrations?

An excess of light.

I am feeling something like an old friend who has grown into a stranger. Something i havent felt in a long time. I like it.

Stable. Normal. Happy, without jumping into hypo. This is so weird.... It never happens...
Social anxiety on a low. Self assurance on a high.

Maybe the new 750mg Depo actually works for me. It's been a long time since i found something with good results.

I heard some lovely tunes today, the music made me see such astounding colors in my mind! It was great. Therapeutic, meditative, and mind blowing.

Aristotle



No one ever creates anything great without a dash of madness.
 
 
http://www.youramazingbrain.org/brainchanges/synesthesia.htm