perzephone: (lunar phases)
Josh hasn't called or texted me in about 48 hours. Either he's been arrested... or...

I keep getting this weird sensation that he's going to show up and make things truly awkward for me. It's had me scanning the casino every time I have to go out there. I keep hearing someone calling my name.

In other news, our Neon crapped out & we did something to our truck by taking it up a couple of miles of gravel road.

And it's definitely Spring. Which is a beautiful thing, because it's been a very long winter for me.
perzephone: (lunar phases)
Either the Zoloft is finally working or some part of me realized that Spring is here.
perzephone: (Default)
Some questions answer themselves.

Like typing into google the following question: "If I wire transfer money to a fugitive, can I be charged with aiding and abetting?".

I think the mere fact of feeling it necessary to type that question into a search engine probably means that it's a question I shouldn't even be exploring. Yes, Josh had a big cock, but he wasn't great enough in bed for me to face felony charges on his behalf. However, he has provided me with several days worth of free entertainment because the tale of his arrest was fucking hilarious. I kept trying not to laugh on the phone, but... he's a big dude. And the cops only managed to get one wrist in the handcuffs when he flailed out & hit one of the cops in the face (resisting arrest & assaulting an officer). He pulled a Braveheart & ran, yelling "Freedom!!!" The cops tased him three times - he got up the first two times & then the cops proceeded to beat the living crap out of him on the third. And he was drunk on Jaeger. Sooo many drunken arrest stories start out with, "Well, we were doing Jaeger shots..." I just have this mental image of this big huge drunken moron running off into the desert yelling, "Freedom!!!" The only way it could be funnier is if he was naked & painted blue. 

Luckily for my criminal record, today has been a day of false starts. We had two contractors out to give us quotes on fencing. Both told us 'oh, you don't need permits, because Code Enforcement never looks at these things... but if you want me to get the permits, it's going to cost $500". On the County website, it says the only fence you don't need permits for is if it's 2' or shorter, and retaining walls in back yards. Which means, yes, we do need permits and we've already had encounters w/Code Enforcement in our neighborhood, so they do check on things. So we have to submit a 'plat map' of our property with the planned outline of the fencing we're going to have put in. Lo and behold, no plat map is on record for this property. Yay. A professional surveyor would charge anywhere from $300 - $500 to create one. It seems like every time we look into getting this fence, we end up deeper & deeper down the red-tape rabbit hole. I mean, fuck, it's a fence. It's not like we're building a theme park up in this bitch.

We've also been thinking about tiling the house. Which means pulling out the carpet, moving furniture & being terribly inconvenienced until the job is done. And it will be performed by the mil, Rob & myself. Yeaaah, not gonna happen. We probably need permits for that, too.


May. 6th, 2014 08:15 am
perzephone: (bad ducky)
Well, I'm up to 100mg of Zoloft daily. Yesterday I didn't feel any different. Last night I got a bad case of 'crawling out of my skin', which actually has a clinical name - akathisia. I went upstairs & got some coffee - caffeine's an antidepressant that works quite well for me, and I called Rob. That was a big step for me - to call Rob & tell him I just needed to talk to him for a few minutes, kind of pull me out of myself a little. I told Rob about my trust issues a week or so ago, and just telling him that I don't trust him or anyone else on the planet has led me to instill more trust in him. Like I'm subconsciously testing the waters to see what floats.

We're getting a fence around our front yard to deal w/our neighbor issues. The family living next door has a pack of people in & out, including a devil-child who loves to ring doorbells and throw rocks at the house. The fence probably won't stop the rock-throwing, but it should discourage the running around in the yard & doorbell-ringing.

Then there's Josh, who has been calling/texting over the past week. He has had some legal issues surrounding DUIs, an assault on a police officer, and probation violations, so he's currently a fugitive. I get the nasty feeling he's going to try to come to Vegas in the next week or so, looking for a port in the storm. This harbor's dried up, buddy.

perzephone: (corporate cthulhu)
PBX is opening a steady extra position. I'd really like to apply for it... I would probably get it, too.

However, being a steady extra for PBX means I'd have a high chance of losing my insurance from September to March every year, not making any money during those same months... and the current steadies have been steadies for 2 years now. PBX operators don't quit, or transfer.  They die on the job... eventually. We've got some really old PBX operators at the hotel, easily past retirement age, but not quitting their jobs any time soon.

So due to the need for insurance and financial stability, I remain a night auditor. Which I loathe. My particular Skinner box offers very little in the way of rewards.


Apr. 30th, 2014 11:30 am
perzephone: (bad ducky)
Maybe it's because I turned 40?

I feel very old. And tired. I don't know exactly how much longer I can go feeling this way.

Sometimes it doesn't get better.
perzephone: (lunar phases)
I think I am slowly but surely becoming an atheist.

Not out of any sense of Science vs Religion, or the Big Bang vs Evolution, more along the lines of it just not holding any importance. Rob & I have pretty much stopped celebrating any holidays, I don't go out of my way to wish anyone a Happy Anything... I'm just not active in my faith.

Actually, I think I'm an Apatheist - I just don't care.

(Apparently, Apatheist is a real 'thing'. Huh.)

I've also been wondering why I have such a hard time making friends with people I'd like to be friends with, and only people that I dislike want to be my friend. What kind of person am I? I know I can be almost impossible to get to know, I talk less & less on a daily basis (so people tell me I'm a 'good listener'), I'm not forthcoming with info on myself (except here), and I don't hold any particular interest in the lives of anyone around me. But when I am interested, I ask all the right questions.

I know much of my mistrust for my fellow humans is based in abandonment. Does mistrust stand that much in the way of a fulfilling relationship with another person?
perzephone: (cunty day)
My fucking head hurt all night last night. Sinuses. All around my eyes & forehead. I couldn't look down because every time I did my head would start pounding. I feel like a complete drama queen about it, too. It's been so many years since I've had a migraine (thank the Gods for Beta blockers!) that I'm not used to serious head pain any more. I could barely function. Laying down didn't help, a hot shower didn't help, Benadryl & Sudafed didn't help, massaging myself didn't help, masturbation didn't help (actually, laying on my face made it worse)...

So I finally got up around 5 & put on some coffee, made myself some cereal & took a handful of Tylenol.

My headache went away. Whoda thunk? Food, caffeine & Tylenol for a sinus headache. I'm still congested & still have a lot of pressure in my face, but the pain is gone & since I've been sitting up, there's been drainage.

The mother-in-law is getting a new fridge & stove for her kitchen, so she's buying us a new stove & giving us her old fridge. I appreciate the fact that she thinks of us, and gives us her hand-me-down appliances, but it's a huge pain in the ass. Most of it is my fault because I am not the World's Best Housekeeper. I don't pull my stove or fridge out & clean under or behind them on a regular basis. In fact, I never do it unless something smells dead under there (and I'm relatively careful about food spillage/leakage so it's been 10 years since I've had to clean under the fridge or stove, and that was when we moved in). I used to have to clean everyone's houses when I was little, and honestly the #1 thing that is amazing about being a grown-up is only cleaning if I want to. Neither I nor Rob are hoarders, so it's not like we've got dead cats & feces piled everywhere, but yeah, our house is usually a mess. There's dust, and dog hair and cobwebs and books on every available surface. Our home decor is pretty close to Classic American White Trash. We've got hand-me-down or Wal-Mart furniture. Stuff is visible. Our carpet has random clean spots from cleaning up after Chelsie's sensitive stomach. We're debating on just ripping the carpet out & mopping the concrete slab because it's easier to clean the tumbleweeds of dog hair & dust bunnies. 

It's ok, though. It's our mess.


Apr. 22nd, 2014 10:04 am
perzephone: madness takes its toll. please have exact change. (exact change)
I know that my depression did not develop over night. I know that it will take time and work to get relief. But I really wish there was a magic pill.
perzephone: madness takes its toll. please have exact change. (exact change)
I did feel better last night, having taken the 50mg of Zoloft instead of 25. My stomach was fine. So this morning (well, it's noon now - I'm up past my bedtime as usual), I skipped the Zoloft. I'm going to try the 50ng again when I get up.

Rob & I watch The Walking Dead (much like almost everyone else who has AMC or the internet). The season finale was amazing. I loved the Governor, but I can honestly say this last episode was my favorite. Rick, Daryl, Michonne & Carl were so confident, so assured, when they walked into Terminus. Even without their weapons, none of them faltered or had to look at each other for confirmation of their words or actions. It made me think of the term from Stephen King's Dark Tower universe: ka-tet. Each one of them has gone through a unique and powerful rebirth, and come out the other side as strong individuals - but together they could take down mountains. Rick's right - won't the Hunters/Terminus feel stupid when they find out?

(Just now, looking it up, of course I'm not the only one it occurred to, lol.)

perzephone: (bad ducky)
I've been taking 50mg of Zoloft, about 12 hours apart, mainly because it upsets my stomach.

I don't think it's enough. I've been having some very dark nights lately.

I just feel like I'm a waste of resources, and I can't figure out how to make myself feel worthwhile, or feel less like a complete failure. I'm just a warm body, taking up space on a crowded planet. I try not to dwell on it, but the thoughts are insidious and they creep back in, especially at 4am, when I'm up alone w/few distractions. I'm just glad there are no pain-free methods for me to try out. All I've got is sharp pointy things and things that go boom. And I worry more about failing than I do about succeeding. Which I suppose is the sentiment behind 'whatever gets you through the night'.

I'm going to try something different tonight. I took my morning dose, and when I get up I'm going to take 2 (an additional 50mg) and see how I feel. Then I'll try that until my pshrink appts. next week and talk it over w/both my prescribing psych & my therapist.

Huh. There are suicide hotline chats available.

perzephone: madness takes its toll. please have exact change. (exact change)
It finally dawned on me that I respond to deep emotions and emotional displays much like I respond to maggots.

Once upon a time, I went to pick up the neighbor's garbage can. It had fallen over in the street, and I was being neighborly. As I approached the garbage can, I could hear a Rice Crispie sound coming from it, the fabled sound of maggots busy eating.

Now, I still would like to somehow be involved in the caring of dead people, and when you work for the dead, you encounter maggots. But I've never actually done any field work, so to speak. When I was a little kid, I had a knack for finding rotten things in unexpected places & that basically means I've stuck my hand into maggot-ridden carcasses of dead animals. So it's embarrassing to admit that I couldn't pick up my neighbor's maggot-ridden garbage can. 

And it wasn't just a matter of looking into it, seeing maggots & going 'Ewwwww' all the way back into my garage. I mean, I stopped dead in my tracks and had a fifteen-minute argument with my hands and feet. Consciously and fully aware, I kept telling myself, "You will pick that garbage can up and move it onto the sidewalk. Now go!"... and my feet refused to move forward, and my back refused to bend over, and my hand refused to grab the garbage can. Flat-out disobeyed direct orders from my brain. It was a weird sensation. I had developed a sudden case of paralysis. My hands were clenching into fists and back out, my toes flexed, I could feel all my muscles preparing to take a step - but nothing happened. When I finally stopped fighting myself, I almost fell flat on my ass because all those straining muscles relaxed all at the same time. I had no problem turning around and going back to the garage.

That's what it's like for me. I face any number of uncomfortable, weird or awkward situations, or a potentially emotional situation, or the emotional outburst of another person - and no matter what sort of pep talk I launch in my head, I cannot move forward. And the sudden-onset paralysis creeps into my brain, too. The pep talk is squashed into silence. I cannot act or react. I just stop.

Bad Brains

Apr. 4th, 2014 09:54 am
perzephone: (bad ducky)
Dearest Cousin, please do not invite me to anymore city-wide/all year school reunions. You don't know how much of a Hell I went through in school those two years I lived with you. The assaults, the beatings, the humiliation. Yes, I know it was all before the anti-bullying movement got started, but damn. Someone could have put a stop to it, intervened, something. What made it worse was going to school with black eyes & fat lips from you and never even having to lie about it because no one asked what happened. No one got to hear "I got hit in the face with a softball". And they stuck me in school counseling for anger management issues.

The past is the past, and it should die, burned and forgotten. But somehow, the older I get the more it comes back. Today, the Zoloft isn't helping. Actually, since Rob started looking for property again. All my failings get thrown in my face when he does that. He realized that he'd made an error in judgment, but it was too late, the train wreck had started. And he keeps fucking looking at property. He thinks I don't notice, but I do.

I thought about trying to call a suicide hotline the other night, but that's something I need privacy to do, and that's one thing I never really have. I don't know what I would have said to the other person, or if they could have even done anything to make me feel better. The therapist can't make me feel better, Rob can't make me feel better. No one can make me feel anything. All the affirmations in the world cannot change who I am.

I had an odd dream the other day. I'm reading PIHKAL, so the part of the dream where I ate hallucinogenic mushrooms (that didn't even give me tracers) was probably from that... but the part about going to pick up a body from a funeral home was not. When Rob & I got to the funeral home, the body we were to transport wasn't there. Instead, there were only crumbling caskets holding mummies and skeletons in various states of decay. I bought an unusually lacquered skeleton for $60. Which I think is quite the bargain.
perzephone: madness takes its toll. please have exact change. (exact change)
I've been feeling better, calmer, more centered. It's a good thing.

So here goes:

Things That I Like About Myself

The Outside

I like my body. I know right now everyone is on a Save the Fatties kick, but when it comes down to it, I like my body. I have cool eyes. My skin, between my knees & neck, anyway, is soft and creamy white. I like my own unique scent when I'm clean. I like the hard muscle underneath soft squishy fat. My small feet and hands, my strong calves & thighs, My big round butt and my big round soft belly. My boobs. My vagina and labia. The curves of my hips, the curves of my back. My shoulders, The shape of my head. My hair. I love my hair. And my nose. My ears are good, too.

The Inside

I like that I am willing to change, to learn new things, to grow. I like that I'm curious about how things work. I like that I'm not attached to material goods. I like that I can like stuff but I can also let it go. I like that I'm relatively low-maintenance. That I can make do with a bare minimum. I like that I am not afraid to get my hands dirty - I can touch raw meat or change the oil in a car myself. I like that I am self-sufficient. I like my open mind.

I like that I am not jealous or competitive. I like that I do not need to be the center of attention. I like that I can be alone but not lonely. I like that I don't need idle chatter, that I can be quiet, and comfortable with quiet.

I like that I am not afraid of technology or modern medicine. I like that I can discern truth from fiction. That I have and can use critical thinking, and that I'm getting better at it. I like that I have an intuitive understanding of how people communicate with technology, and how to make it easier to negotiate between the two.

I like that I can make connections and links between seemingly disparate concepts, that I can make analogies. I like that I can scrape away extraneous fluff to get to the meat of any situation.
perzephone: madness takes its toll. please have exact change. (exact change)
I think I'm feeling better.

I feel more calm & centered over the past two days. My stomach is still kind of clenched right after I take the Zoloft, and the hunger has not returned. I get hungry & I eat at my normal times.

I am still off my Elavil, which means I'm not dreaming, or sleeping all that well.

I am Getting Stuff Done. Even if it's one small thing a day, it's still a Thing that is Done. And I'm not beating myself up for all the crap I should do. One thing a day is Enough. Yesterday I weeded and took pictures of a couple of flowering weeds before I killed them, one being a thistle of some sort & the other being a nipplewort or mustard of some other sort. The other day I accompanied Rob to the hardware store & we bought supplies for me to tie up the little pine tree we have out front. Tomorrow that is my Thing to Do - tie up the little tree. This morning was grocery shopping.
perzephone: madness takes its toll. please have exact change. (exact change)
It's kind of interesting to go over my past with my therapist. So much is missing.

My mother had my sisters to try and change their dad, to make him into the man she wanted him to be. It's a cliche, a story told too often. I was given some pretty obvious signals as a child that I wasn't wanted by my mother, so I imagine my creation was for a similar reason. Maybe by getting pregnant, my mother hoped to turn my dad into a stay-home kind of guy. It didn't work.

The re-emerging feelings of being unwelcome are making it hard for me to find any intrinsic value in myself. It goes deeper than that, though. It's hard to find self-worth when I question the worth of the human species in general, when I question the worth of life on Earth itself. That big-picture problem of the macrocosm is affecting my microcosm.

What gives a person value? What gives a person the right to exist? If we're all just happy accidents of evolution, then why do we feel so entitled to be here? Science has no answers. My religion is based on many, many creation myths - but why did the Gods create us? They hold no answers for me either. I know it's the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe and Everything, but I feel like I need that piece of the puzzle in order to find worth in myself. And since I'm the only one who can truly place a value on myself, that my worth has to come from within, I'm at a stalemate.

I think I'm too philosophical to heal.
perzephone: madness takes its toll. please have exact change. (exact change)
I'm starting to feel better, a little. Much of the achey/painy has gone away. Spinal nerves need serotonin & all that to interpret signals coming from the body to the brain... too little and any sensation at all can be mistranslated as pain. Just from like, sitting. So the good news is that my ass is not constantly sore like it has been. My stomach, though, is a very different story. Even splitting the dose up is rough. I spent most of the last few hours trying to determine if I was going to puke or not.

Sleeping is also no-go. I'm sitting here yawning, and I will probably be able to fall asleep, but I get the feeling I'll be awake by 10am if I do. And I won't be able to go back to sleep. I'm cutting out Starbucks this week, partly to eliminate the extra caffeine, and partly because I can easily spend $40 a week on coffee. It's as bad as a pack-a-day cigarette habit.

The self-defeating or negative inner dialogue is very hard to shut down. Introspection is hard to shut down. Comparing myself to everyone around me is hard to shut down. But I've never benefitted much from positive affirmations so there's nothing to replace the inner dialogue. Just mindfulness, which also backfires because I start thinking about how tedious another 40 years or so of doing some inane task will be... and the silence that I had on the first few days of the Zoloft is fading. 

Which is why I continue to focus on the physical symptoms and don't allow myself to just write. It could get ugly in here.
perzephone: madness takes its toll. please have exact change. (exact change)
Splitting the dose up worked better. Spent most of last night w/an upset stomach, which is better than being ravenous. I'm fat, but damn, I don't 'live to eat'. I don't even like to think about food anymore. I'm waiting for the day when we have nutritionally complete food cubes. Being hungry all the time sucks. With all of Rob's new allergies (or his imagined allergies), we don't even keep 'food' in the house, so I kept ending up in the kitchen looking at nothing, wondering to myself, "Why the fuck did I come in here again?".

Had one of my 'I'd rather be invisible' nights last night. I used to like attention, used to like people seeing me. I used to be shocking and bawdy on purpose so people would notice me.

Now, not so much. The casino was extremely crowded last night, and I just felt like I was in everyone's way. I got called to work out front because we had a fairly large line, and instead of popping into the suicide window like I normally would (the one where the line leads up to), I hid behind a pillar & answered phones.

I don't know what happened to me.
perzephone: madness takes its toll. please have exact change. (exact change)
Taking 2 Zoloft isn't too terrible. It's not real great, either. I felt borderline sick all day yesterday. Headachey, nauseous. Sort of weirdly out-of-breath, like I couldn't take a full, deep inhalation. I think I'm going to split the pills up into 2 doses.

Some of the hunger has subsided, which is a relief.

I got some silk embroidery thread w/the tax return. The colors are amazing.
perzephone: madness takes its toll. please have exact change. (exact change)
Time to up the dose to 50mg. I'm trying 2 25mg at the same time, if things get weird I'll split them up.

So far, nothing too weird. Other than the fact that I'm horny & hungry all the time. Sooooo fucking hungry. I mean, I keep ending up in the kitchen. It's a good thing we have no readily edible food in there. Same for the snack machine at work. I bought nuts, just because they're relatively harmless. This is the first time in my life I've ever been concerned about weight-gain.

I guess it's a plus that along with the constant hunger, there's nausea and the knotted stomach feeling. So I'm starving but slightly nauseous so I don't actually want to eat. The nausea subsides once I eat, for a little while. At least, until I get hungry again. It's ridiculous.

I should blog more, but... eh. It's the Valentine season in the Dragon Cave. Previous Holiday dragons are now unlimited. About fucking time. I'm supposed to do things that distract myself, and DC is distracting. As is WoW, and the dog and reading and embroidery... and food. Good Gods, food. Blogging is not distracting because I start thinking about how fucked up things are for me, and I'm supposed to shut off the negative self-dialogue.

All I can think about is dissociation. How often I do it, how it is a defense mechanism, how easy it is to slip into... and I wonder if I've ever meditated at all, or if it's all been dissociation, or maybe meditation has made it worse... and sleep. When I was little I slept a lot at odd times. I could be awake all night but when it came time to go to school, I'd drop off into the deepest slumber imaginable. Same with when I went to live w/my cousin. It was almost like narcolepsy. If I knew I would be getting beat when she got home, I couldn't fight the sleep off. Math classes were naptime, too. And now at work. I keep telling people this is the year I get fired for sleeping on the job.

At least I am getting some relief people to train at work.

I go back to the therapist on the 20th.


perzephone: (Default)
Rainbow Serpent Woman

August 2014

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