Well, well, well. I guess it shouldn't surprise me that I will now have one more drug added to my current cocktail. Tomorrow I will start Wellbutrin to add to my mix. Some of it is due to my seasonal affective disorder, some of it is to try to counteract the low energy and exhaustion from some of the other psych meds I am on already. This new one will make the count 5 psych meds now. Yeehaw.
It kind of bothers me, but then I realize I could be a lot worse off, like being hospitalized and or having to have shock treatments. It's scary to think that it could come to that down the road.
I was prescribed Wellbutrin years ago to help me in quitting smoking, and it worked then, until I had an uber stressful situation at work and started smoking again. Maybe an offshoot of being on it again will be that it will spur me on to quit smoking. Though admittedly, that thought scares the shit out of me. Smoking has been my be all end all for so many years, I just don't know what to do without it. I remember that being on Wellbutrin caused me to hate the taste and smell of cigs so we'll see what happens now.
I will admit, I did have a few drinks tonight. I had a long and stressful week. I know, it's no excuse, but I decided I need to get rid of the alcohol I had here and I didn't want to waste it. I know you aren't supposed to drink on most of the meds I am on, but it's not like I do it every night. I think the last time I had a drink was about 3 months ago, and that was one beer. Tonight I have had 3 white russians, admittedly on the strong side, but that's ok. I am on my fourth and final one for the night and I am feeling no pain and can still walk in a straight line. LOL I take that back, I hurt my bad knee today crawling around in my brother's attic and that is still hurting so there is still pain. :p
Anarchy in the UK.........boy does that bring back memories. I wish I could go back in time knowing what I know now, don't you? I feel so bad, because I have been working on my therapy and energy work and Reiki so hard this week, yet stooped to alcohol tonight. I guess it's like anything else, you work so hard and then at the end you fall for the easy way out. :(
I've been listening to my favorite music all night long here, and singing to it badly. I wish I could sing. I seem to do better on lower note singers like Everlast, Joe Cocker, Marl Knopfler and Johnny Cash. I guess I have that "whiskey voice" even thought I don't drink whiskey. LOL
I've had lots of trouble sleeping this week, but I have a feeling I won't have that problem tonight! I am not advocating alcohol abuse, but I think once in a great while if you cut loose and you aren't hurting anyone and not really hurting yourself too bad, what the Hell. We are only human after all. Maybe it's because I am Irish and feel things so strongly and have too much empathy for my own good. Maybe it's because I'm mentally unstable and can only be pushed so far before I break. I don't know. I just know that right now I am feeling better and more at ease and relaxed than I have all week, even though I was doing "all the right things." I guess that's my rebellious spirit at work. Speaking of, I want another tattoo. I want a Raven sitting on top of a skull that has a snake entwined through it, with the Raven croaking out "NEVERMORE" from its beak. I think that would go perfect with my tattoo that I have on the opposite shoulder of Lucifer resting his elbows on a bank of skulls with big bat wings over it. If anyone I know out there does tats, let me know because I'd love to get this done.
I have to admit I am really feeling guilty because I was working so hard with my psychic development class and my Reiki class this week and I ended up in the bottle. Must be my limited faith in myself. It just makes me so sad.
This is certainly an odd blog post, but it's where I am coming from so what can I say. We've all got our dark sides. It's all balance, Ying and Yang. Like Bill and Ted said, "if you don't know what sucks, how do you know what's good?" :) Something like that anyway.
I suppose I have babbled on enough here. Hopefully I won't regret posting this. Ah well, what's done is done. I wish you all a goodnight.
Friday, October 5, 2012
Friday, July 27, 2012
Bill's Chair
Recently, my brother's elderly neighbor Bill passed away. He lived alone, and some family members are taking care of his affairs. They had put some furniture out by the mailboxes for free, and as I walked out to get my brother's mail my attention was drawn to an armchair. It was rust colored, nice condition except the obvious wear marks at the ends of the arms. They were blackened with wear. I thought that must have been his favorite chair, and wondered how many hours he sat there, alone. Was he watching TV? Reading? Did he regret never having been married or having children? I'll never know. It's funny how such a little thing can make a wave of sadness rush over you. It made me think that there was this man I barely knew, but his lonely chair out at the side of road seemed to speak volumes. I know a chair is an inanimate object, yet I couldn't help but wonder if the chair missed him. People can leave vibrations behind on their belongings, I firmly believe that.
I actually felt sorry for the chair. I wanted to take it home like you would a stray dog, and let it continue to be loved, but I have no room for it. I hope someone will take it and give it a good home. I think what really made me sad is that old saying- "You can't take it with you." That's very true. I shouldn't feel so sad about Bill though, he had a good life as far as I know and a long one. I know he had cancer and suffered horribly at the end of his life, which can account for more sadness I feel. It makes me think of my Grandmother, who was such a wonderful woman, and suffered the same fate. Why do so many good people have to suffer so badly? That's the age old question which there will never be a satisfactory answer to.
I've had a poem brewing in my mind all day since I saw the chair, so let's see if I can get it out here.
Bill's Chair
The rust-colored chair stood by the side of the road by the mailboxes. "Free" for the taking.
The arms of the chair worn black and fraying.
Honest, hard working hands caressed those arms not long ago, while their body was aching.
The chair must be surprised to be out by the mailboxes, instead of in it's place.
Maybe the daily mail was read from it's comfort.
Bill may be gone now, but he's left a trace.
Lonely chair, do you think it misses him?
Well, so much for that, my muse appears to have flown. I need to get back to writing more.
I actually felt sorry for the chair. I wanted to take it home like you would a stray dog, and let it continue to be loved, but I have no room for it. I hope someone will take it and give it a good home. I think what really made me sad is that old saying- "You can't take it with you." That's very true. I shouldn't feel so sad about Bill though, he had a good life as far as I know and a long one. I know he had cancer and suffered horribly at the end of his life, which can account for more sadness I feel. It makes me think of my Grandmother, who was such a wonderful woman, and suffered the same fate. Why do so many good people have to suffer so badly? That's the age old question which there will never be a satisfactory answer to.
I've had a poem brewing in my mind all day since I saw the chair, so let's see if I can get it out here.
Bill's Chair
The rust-colored chair stood by the side of the road by the mailboxes. "Free" for the taking.
The arms of the chair worn black and fraying.
Honest, hard working hands caressed those arms not long ago, while their body was aching.
The chair must be surprised to be out by the mailboxes, instead of in it's place.
Maybe the daily mail was read from it's comfort.
Bill may be gone now, but he's left a trace.
Lonely chair, do you think it misses him?
Well, so much for that, my muse appears to have flown. I need to get back to writing more.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Anniversary Lamentations
It's been forever and a day since I've done anything with the old blog here. It's all changed around now, so that's interesting. Well, here goes nothing.
This week, the 11th to be exact, would have been my wedding anniversary. I believe if we hadn't divorced, it would have been 27 years. I know, why look back at things you can't change, right? It still bothers me though. It's been 5 years and it's truly like grieving the death of someone you love. It hurts a little less each year, but it still hurts a lot. My father told me that I remind him a lot of my dearly departed Aunt Bertha. She was divorced I believe in her 40's too, and she never got over it. She did find the love of her life in her later years, but I think she was still tortured about her divorce.
I think another reason I have a hard time about it is that he re-married the same year we divorced. He had told me he would never get married again, so that was a hard fucking pill to swallow. Before I come off like a total hypocrite, yes, I do have a boyfriend, but it's definitely not happily ever after and there will be no marriage for me again! Been there, did that, have the deep scars under the t-shirt. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. In fact, there are times I believe that it would behoove me never to have an intimate relationship again. Ha, well, in this case it's really not an intimate one anyhow, so there you go.
Almost right after our divorce was final, I had my breakdown. So I guess if I want to celebrate an anniversary, I can celebrate the anniversary of being diagnosed with numerous mental illnesses. Ah yes, that's a milestone to be proud of. OK, OK, so I need to look at it more like it's the "anniversary of the beginning of my recovery." That sounds like something they would say in AA, doesn't it? There's nothing wrong with that except I am not an alcoholic so the connotations are all wrong. What the Hell could I call it? "The anniversary of my new life" just does not wax poetic to me either. I don't know, maybe I should just drop it and call it nothing. I can't help that I'm sentimental though. There has to be something, like, what, "Julia-Part II!" Or would that be Part IV, if you count age 0-17 childhood, 17, motherhood, 18-40 married life? I am up for any and all suggestions of those who deign to read this.
Some people would, and do say- "Well, I've lost a lot but at least I have retained (or found) my self." I can't even say that!!!! I'm working on it, but my self still eludes me.
Some people would tell me to "let it go." How in Hell do you do that? There are always the memories, and many good ones! I think that would be like erasing the whole thing like it never existed, and I can't do that. I can't just have convenient amnesia or something and "forget" it all happened! I think he has been able to do that, bully for him, but I can't! I just don't know what I am supposed to do I guess. Keep moving forward, I know it's all that you can really do, but it's hard some days.
This week, the 11th to be exact, would have been my wedding anniversary. I believe if we hadn't divorced, it would have been 27 years. I know, why look back at things you can't change, right? It still bothers me though. It's been 5 years and it's truly like grieving the death of someone you love. It hurts a little less each year, but it still hurts a lot. My father told me that I remind him a lot of my dearly departed Aunt Bertha. She was divorced I believe in her 40's too, and she never got over it. She did find the love of her life in her later years, but I think she was still tortured about her divorce.
I think another reason I have a hard time about it is that he re-married the same year we divorced. He had told me he would never get married again, so that was a hard fucking pill to swallow. Before I come off like a total hypocrite, yes, I do have a boyfriend, but it's definitely not happily ever after and there will be no marriage for me again! Been there, did that, have the deep scars under the t-shirt. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. In fact, there are times I believe that it would behoove me never to have an intimate relationship again. Ha, well, in this case it's really not an intimate one anyhow, so there you go.
Almost right after our divorce was final, I had my breakdown. So I guess if I want to celebrate an anniversary, I can celebrate the anniversary of being diagnosed with numerous mental illnesses. Ah yes, that's a milestone to be proud of. OK, OK, so I need to look at it more like it's the "anniversary of the beginning of my recovery." That sounds like something they would say in AA, doesn't it? There's nothing wrong with that except I am not an alcoholic so the connotations are all wrong. What the Hell could I call it? "The anniversary of my new life" just does not wax poetic to me either. I don't know, maybe I should just drop it and call it nothing. I can't help that I'm sentimental though. There has to be something, like, what, "Julia-Part II!" Or would that be Part IV, if you count age 0-17 childhood, 17, motherhood, 18-40 married life? I am up for any and all suggestions of those who deign to read this.
Some people would, and do say- "Well, I've lost a lot but at least I have retained (or found) my self." I can't even say that!!!! I'm working on it, but my self still eludes me.
Some people would tell me to "let it go." How in Hell do you do that? There are always the memories, and many good ones! I think that would be like erasing the whole thing like it never existed, and I can't do that. I can't just have convenient amnesia or something and "forget" it all happened! I think he has been able to do that, bully for him, but I can't! I just don't know what I am supposed to do I guess. Keep moving forward, I know it's all that you can really do, but it's hard some days.
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