I have come to the point where I notice I don’t attach to other’s emotions and I find it much easier to live that way. In the process of not attaching, I also find it more peaceful and even cheaper to boot to just not be around people. My outlook would be called “unhealthy” by many and researchers are convinced we will die earlier than expected due to such a lack of ‘connection.’ Well, so fucking what?

That’s right, I don’t care when myself or other humans die because this is a process we call life and passing is inevitable. Anyone can be involved in an accident, ingest something toxic or even purposely off themselves. EVERYTHING passes, EVERYTHING!

Yes, I have attempted suicide multiple times and am still here. It has been 10 years since my last attempt and that is a feat in itself which we can call, ‘progression.’ I do think about it and have ideations which I notice a distinct difference in the two and when to get help. Thinking about suicide for me is a culmination of random thoughts about what happens to my spirit when my body gives out? Is there a misty haze that floats away and latches on to an egg and seed just formed and begins all over again? It is more a curiosity, not an action. Any time for me when I begin to convince myself to leave the front door open so my dog can get out right before I do something to kill myself, I IMMEDIATELY recognize I need to get help. If I find myself beginning to make a plan, the brakes must come on. I can contact my therapist or a friend explaining I am suffering and they remind me of my value here in the world. Have an option to your plan always.

My largest value here in the world is first off to share. More times than not, I do it from behind a screen anymore. I have become so guarded that I don’t put myself in harms way much anymore. What am I afraid of? If the worse thing that can happen to me I could die, what is it really I am afraid of? I can honestly say it isn’t death I fear, it is the process and that is OK.

I have other friends who live with suicidal ideations far more than myself and for them, I dedicate today’s entry. If we are still breathing, life goes on.

I have neglected sharing my experiences for 5 months and now…I AM BACK! Greetings all and if you are reading this, I am truly grateful. This morning I am up and at em with the strange thoughts or memories haunting me from yet still yesterday. I hope to come here first thing after the dog does her biz, coffee in hand, news playing in the background, and the will to share. This is the pattern I wish to use every day so to start my day off in a better way. If I stick to it…let’s see.

I suffered a migraine yesterday which knocked me out of the realm for an additional 12 hours or so. I have migraines anywhere from 5 – 15 times a month. They aren’t something I’d wish on anyone and each time, I am convinced I am having an anyourism and that I will die until I can finally get still, in a dark place, and the pain eases. I have been to see doctor after doctor and no one knows why. I think the doctor doesn’t want to really investigate, yet who am I to judge?

I would dare to deem my thoughts first thing in the morning create a pattern through the day. I have been meditating off and on to try to get ahold of the crazy, yet I can’t just sit down for 20 minutes, break and go to a job in the fast pace nation we live in. I have to work on my crazy off and on through the day. Some days I feel like such a freak show that I fear going outside. Getting my dog out and around our apartment complex may be as far as I go. I am talking hat over head, huge sunglasses, hurried pace kind of going out. Those days I am completely afraid to interact with anyone. I have such a swirl of thoughts going through my mind that I feel like I can explode as in, I actually feel like inside I am barred in a little room all alone yanking at the bars wildly and screaming out the window. I am full of rage.

No one, and I mean literally no one can tell this from my outside that I suffer emotionally. I have worked extremely hard to create my outsides to no where match my insides. I wear very well put together outfits with splashes of what others call, “unicorn” in places. I am drawn to sparkley things that display a free spirit with lots of white light around them (pay attention to the white light comment). Now, if I were to try and display how I actually feel with my ensemble, I would have on simple jeans and baggy t-shirt like I don’t give a shit and hate myself. I probably wouldn’t bathe either and would wear a hat or a do-rag to cover my mop. Since I wear the appeasing or interesting items, I survive being out among other people. I am in survival mode at all times just trying to make it until I can get back in my safety zone of my home. Now, where’s a girl gonna get balance and connection in that?

Since I last wrote, I moved from a very unsafe place with a lot of cultural differences in residences. There was possibly a human trafficking operation and I am 99% certain some kind of distribution place for drugs. I told the property manager of the comings and goings I witnessed and I think she may have been frightened of the people also. I was so fearful for my surroundings and my dog that I found another place to live as soon as the lease went up and I learned, money buys safety it seems.

Off the dog and I went and rent went from $855 to $1130. I have a retirement pension so I can cover it, feed my dog, feed myself and pay my electricity so I am OK. I actually kind of don’t mind having to skim more on a budget and rather enjoy utilizing nature and my surroundings for entertainment.

Before, every time I felt empty, going out and buying something, drinking, or binging and purging, if my thoughts spiraled, was the thing to do. I got a whole lot of nothing to show for those behaviors. I have finally come to understand that those behaviors along with several others cause a ‘pleasurable’ feeling each time we perform them, therefore we come back for relief from time to time. Sometimes a daily basis for some and others for me on an as needed basis.

Through 3 rehabs and actual addiction studies courses at colleges, I learned that we can’t blame a pill or a bottle of booze for an addiction. It is the behavior we create with the external item that has to be broken. The pill or bottle doesn’t jump out and make you take it. Think about that little thing we call, “muscle memory.” It is the same with the euphoric feeling of relief we find.

I can survive now in our new home, and here and there, I have ways to find pleasure other than the afore mentioned that I consider self-harm. My new home brings me 50% relief from what I had before so making myself utilize the healthy behaviors I call. “tools from my toolbox,” has become a lot easier. I have noticed in our new home, what I consider normal things apartment complexes come with like trash here and there, maybe people coming and going at odd hours on the weekends, but no screaming and yelling at those odd hours, no 4 year old children locked out of their homes screaming and yelling to be let in at 0300 in the morning, no cars with blaring radios coming back and forth picking up women in dresses that spelled sex and for them to end up being brought home at 0200 with dresses ripped and arguing with their ride. I left that behind. Now that my surroundings have changed, I find it easier to practice the tools I have learned. Don’t get me wrong, I still suffer, yet I can get to relief through things like, running, meditation, praying, yoga, qi gong, walking my dog, staring at the trees outside my windows. Life was a whole lot worse before.

I have many problems, yes who would guess? One that has been holding me up from progressing is the lack of acknowledgement of the different emotions I feel. Sometime ago, I was given a copy of a “feeling wheel.” If you are curious, please just google it because I haven’t come to know how to insert pictures and other adornment to my page yet. Back to the feeling wheel….today I feel sad, depressed, and inadequate. THERE…I am acknowledging.

I need to move desperately. Where I live is unsafe as in human trafficking, drug houses, and gun shots from time to time. It was my risky behaviors that have contributed to where I have landed and I can’t seem to even see the top of the hole I have been in.

My lease isn’t up until May and I am already beginning to have pangs of fear, doubt, and anxiety. It is March 10, 2019. Yesterday I met with someone who contacted me through an ad I put on Craigslist and of course I created images of grandeur in my mind. A nice professional professor greeting me and instantly inviting me back to her home to view the space for rent. Me signing a lease and beginning to move out of my apartment early at that. It is those expectations that lead me to such muck and disdain. The images created in my mind. I keep up with self-help and I thought it is the images that will bring me what I am invested in. I pinned my hopes up to just one, so the search is still on. She asked for references, was very aloof and I couldn’t see the home because the roommate living in the room was sick supposedly.

I feel inadequate because of how I look for some reason. One of the few things I enjoy is coloring my hair different colors and I have thoughts that she may have judged that. I don’t do it for attention, I do it to feel transformed myself and create different ways for my self-esteem. She was dressed impeccably and appeared wealthy and I am poor now. I spent 2 hours trying to decide what to wear and at that I barely have clothes that fit because I have gained 25 pounds in this past year of living in this unsafe place and pool of depression and crazy I create.

I feel sad because I need to move and don’t know what is going to happen. I haven’t even heard back from possible roommate and I already feel it is tossed and who knows why.

The last of the 3 feelings is depressed. Over the past year, this has been my most common feeling. Oh depression…how do I seem to love thee, let me count the ways! I lie on the couch with you staring into the screen and you just hug me like I am your long lost child. I ask you if anyone would notice in the world if I were gone and you encourage me to stay in and find out. I hang out with you and sulk instead of the many things I could do to combat you. That’s right Mr. Depression…I am suppose to combat you and I am going to. I want change and I want you to fuck off and stay as far away from me as possible. I am going to get out of this bed, go into the sunlight, take things to donate and keep moving forward like I will have a roommate and move. I won’t let you win and there I have fucking acknowledged you!!! You fucking freak asshole that hangs out too much. You aren’t welcome here any more!!!

The irony in the above paragraph is I literally split in my mind as I was writing it. Omg and wow…I am baffled because that is the first time I have acknowledged the most horrible thing we go through and where the biggest lack of control happens, when we split.

I am really going to get up and keep going through things to donate and today make a trip to the donation center and drop things off. I am going to walk my dog and go to the dog park, work with her training, and love her.

Until next time XOXOXO.