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.

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.

The Alegria Allegory

This just in: I want to watch Kooza. You should too.


I've watched the DVD of Cirque Du Soleil's show "Alegria" at least 6 or 7 times now. Partly because it has amazing music and acts, partly because Francesca Gagnon is freaking ADORABLE, and partly because there is a bare thread of a storyline or the appearance of related events running through the whole show. It's not a cabaret like Zumanity and it's not a difinitive story like Varekai but there's something there tying it all together. This story line has resulted in hours spent at IHOP tables at 3 AM trying to decipher the underlying meaning of the show.

Is it about power and a crumbling kingdom?
Is it about the homeless youth struggling to yell loud enough to have their cries heard at the top of the heirarchy?
Is it about conflict between religion?
Is it about generational conflict?
What is the purpose of the Singer in White? Who is she supposed to be?
What about Tamir and Little Tamir? Who are they supposed to be?
Should I know something more about life coming away from this show that I did when I first started watching it?

The thing I love most about all of these questions is that, in the tradition of Cirque, there are no real answers. You can watch it again and see something different. And again the next time, and the next.

This time I took away the idea that there are few things better in life than watching someone who is utterly batshit crazy run around and set a stage on fire using a Fire-Knife.

fuckitty fuck fuck

This is my personal blog so I can title my posts whatever I want.
If you're looking for my cyberfeminism blog try http://arachnetwopointoh.blogspot.com

The gist is I'm still confused about my cyberfem class and didn't know we were supposed to read ALL of the readings. Are we? I don't know.

I'm in that lovely state where I'm kind of terrified and panicky. My bipolar has been getting a little worse of late. Meds and all of that are still the same. It's just that with all this stuff about my gender and the PCOS and having gotten the final dose of Gardasil which has resulted in some rather excruciating pain in general life feels awfully teh suxorz.

I'd have to argue the worst part of it all is that I'm so crazy close to sucessfully finishing the semester and I feel like I'm falling apart. I would like to not feel like this plzthx. Right about now I would love a cigarette but my lungs are shit to begin with so it strikes me as a somewhat bad idea to take up smoking again.

I will be working graveyard shift tonight and am not really looking forward to it mostly because I feel very sick and confused. At least I'll be making an extra $0.40 an hour tonight. That should help considering comcast jacked up my bill out of no where.

Fun fact: I was the first girl to ever request to work the graveyard shift at ICT.

Next week: Online dating and why it sucks