If you are looking for my Cyberfeminism blog...

You've come to the wrong place but feel free to look around anyway!
My Cyberfeminsim blog is actually over at http://arachnetwopointoh.blogspot.com
Sorry for the confusion.
Have a totally awesome day!

Saturday, April 25, 2009

some days...

some days i'll forget to take my meds. sometimes i run out and forget to refill them and i go without for a few days.

things they don't tell you about SSRI's like cymbalta: if you miss even two days your body will spiral into withdrawal symptoms. You will shake and be dizzy and out of breath and it will feel like needles are pricking every inch of your skin. You will feel like you are being shocked electrically. it will start in your brain and traverse your entire body, down to your feet and all the way back up. You will want to convulse your body will be exhausted and if you relax your muscles will twitch like you are seizing. You aren't. You are fine but your body will twitch. Once you take your medications again it will take two weeks of consistent daily dosing before they are working fully.

This is all legal. All of it is FDA approved.

I never come off of my meds into a manic episode. I always plummet into depression. I don't have a reason to be sad or cry. It doesn't need a reason.

I feel like there is a weight on my chest pressing down and making it harder to breathe. Harder to care. I want to curl up in the corner and be left alone forever. I feel so alone already. I cry over nothing. I cry about death.


It's summer.
May 18, 1996: the day my Grandpa Hart died. His was the first funeral I ever cried at. I was 8.

May 2nd, 2003: the day my Grandpa Dan died. I was in San Antonio on a band trip. I got the news from my cousin. The last time I saw my Grandan I had forgotten to say "I love you" as he was leaving; I thought it was no big deal and I would see him again. It was the most excruciating pain I had ever known.

June 28, 2006: the day my Grandma Hart died. She actually passed away while I was literally sitting on my Grandma Wink's couch saying how she was a fighter and she might make it.

June 21, 2007: the day my Grandma Wink died, less than a year after my Grandma Hart died. I was holding her hand when she died. I was alone in the room. The nurse asked if I was okay. I stared at her and said "No, I just watched my grandmother die. Of course I'm not okay." I sometimes still don't feel okay.



Maybe these are all excuses but I'm in a bad way right now.

Thursday, April 02, 2009

You're still here

Sometimes, when I'm really exhausted
when I haven't slept in what feels like days
and my nerves have been worn threadbare
I remember you.

I remember the way you laughed and scrunched your nose.
I remember how your favorite word was amazing
everything in the world was amazing
and I remember asking you what you were like
when you saw something truly amazing
and you told me you thought everything really was amazing.

that was amazing.

I miss you but I can't tell you that because you weren't You.
You were an idea. You are an idea.

What you are to me is something that doesn't really exist
but this fallacy is born of your reality.
I want to thank you but I can't thank you for being
the symbol I needed, the sign, the light, the thing you never saw.

I'm so proud of you.
You've changed the world.
At least my world.

And now look at you. Standing atop the hill so many struggle to climb.
so far ahead of where I would even aspire to be,
You rarely seem to look back.
I often wonder if you lie when you mention missing me.

I can't open my eyes because the sun is too bright but I try.
the tears stream down my face as I struggle to see you clearly.
eventually I'll stop.
eventually I'll give up.
eventually I'll admit you're gone. That you don't remember.
That it's over.

But now, when I close my eyes tight
when my breathing evens and I am finally still,
in those moments I lose track of the line between
those things that are real
and those things that exist only in my dream.

and then I let myself believe
You're still here.







It's always a bad sign when the name Maude Gonne comes to mind.