Wednesday, November 21, 2012

I am the death master (or "Lord"?).

It’s 1:39am and I’m only mildly in need of rest.  Why do I have to give a well thought out explanation for why I’m doing (or wanting to do) something random?  For example, wanting to secretly work at a super trashy strip club or write a long drawn out blog entry out of the blue?  I’m not a fucking cut and paste scrap book of rational rhyme or reason.  Sometimes things just have to be done.  Whether this is frustrating for you or not really shouldn’t be my concern right now but it is… I need to get over feeling like I have to be what you think I am or want me to be (for YOU).  I have to be me right now and that might include being irrational, selfish & impulsive.

My mom moved back to Seattle in May and miraculously that’s when all of this started.  It’s not that I’m close to my mom by any means, in fact I went through a period a few years ago of having nightmares about brutally physically attacking her.  I would wake up in pain from slamming my knuckles into the wall or punching whoever I was sleeping next to in the face.  I even woke up next to a guy I was dating at the time and started slamming my fists into his package.  That’s just one circumstance I actually remember.  Many of these episodes were forgotten by morning.  Luckily, I was always reminded by whatever asshole I had laid myself down next to over coffee (or during “kick-out”) the next day.  

Well I’ve considered giving up my life as it is and all of my hoarded belongings to run away to Seattle and move back in with my mother.  However, that would be a seriously awful idea.  Living with her again would most likely cause the kind of nervous breakdown that I could never recover from.  But I have this wild desire to run away from everything and start fresh.  A rebirth of sorts.  

I can’t wait until my apartment is completely clean.  I really think/hope it will change my life for the better.  At least I’ll finally be able to process my non-linear thoughts much easier without feeling the pressure to finish this or that task… Like the task I was just about to undertake, which was to refold everything in my sweet new chest of drawers (that Toby the homie sent me!) so that everything will fit better.


Throwing things out has become easier & easier for me lately.  People say that’s a bad sign… As in, it could mean the person feels no attachment to things and thus might be more likely to commit suicide.  Don’t worry though, I don’t like the idea of no longer existing.  The only thing about suicide that appeals to me is the control or choosing when, where & how you’ll die.  If you don’t take this unavoidable reality into your own hands it could happen any kind of way at any time.  That might be less enjoyable than just doing it yourself?  I’m a total freak about this.  I feel like death is around every fucking corner.  

I almost died 3 times as a child from pneumonia & once from this weirdo breaking in my apartment when I was 7 with a knife.  He thought I was alone & wanted me to open the door when he saw me peek out of the blinds at him.  Well he got a huge surprise when he slid his knife in the door, folded back the lock and came bursting in with that knife in is hand.  Luckily my mom was there.  She was just on the phone and sent me to look outside when he first started knocking on the door.  She WOULD leave me alone quite a bit back then though & I bet he noticed that and stalked us.  I always wonder what he would have done to me if my mom wasn’t there.  She jumped & screamed… He turned and ran.  Actually he said, “I have the wrong apartment,” before he turned and ran away.  What the fuck did THAT mean!?  Pervert.  

Oh and then there was that stroke 3 years ago.  Y’all remember that don’t you?  It’s really weird being so close to your own death and knowing it.  I think it’s why I’m generally so obsessed with death.  When I was hospitalized for pneumonia those 3 times as a kid I knew how serious it was.  I remember pretending that it was FUN to be out of school & in the hospital, even though I couldn’t hardly breathe.  I did that to calm my family around me.  They’d come into the room and immediately burst into tears.  

This all happened to me when I was 3, 4 & 5 or 4, 5 & 6…  I’m not sure now but the first time I wasn’t in school yet, the second time I was in pre-kindergarten and the 3rd time I was kindergarten.  I always wondered why they didn’t hold me back in kindergarten since I was gone for so long in the middle of the school year.

Once when I was in the hospital for pneumonia they had me in a bubble for a whole month.  I had a fucking plastic bubble over my hospital bed with a humidifier in it.  They had to change my sheets IN THE BUBBLE every 3 hours because they would become sopping wet.  I have no clue how this was supposed to help my pneumonia?    

I basically acted the same when I was in the hospital after I had the stroke.  People would come to visit me & I could barely fucking communicate with them.  If you didn’t know, I had to relearn what letters & numbers were… As well as how to speak, read & write/spell.  THAT was a bummer.  I’ve always prided myself on my intelligence and in about a 2 day period it was all taken away from me.  I didn’t even know my friend’s names even though I recognized their faces.  I was SO embarrassed but I smiled & laughed with them to make them feel like nothing was wrong.  I didn’t want them to pity me or become scared and uncomfortable…  I would wait until they left before I’d break down into tears and blame myself for what had happened.  I thought I deserved it.  Now I like to believe… No, actually I still think I deserved it.  I can’t explain that right now, but maybe later. 

Have I mentioned I still have aphasia from my stroke?  Yeah… I can NEVER think of the word I’m trying to say and sometimes I get words confused like I’ll say “leaves” instead of “cash” (because they’re both green?), or whatever.  I’m incredibly insecure about this.  I was kind of hoping that writing more would get me out of that habit.  It comes and goes… Sometimes it’s worse than other times.  It’s especially shitty when I’m tired, drunk or stoned.  If I’m all three I tend to not make much sense at all.  I’m fucking brain damaged and I’m ashamed of that fact.  I had to confess that to the universe just now.  Do with this info what you will. 

My point is that I’ve been incredibly close to death.  I’ve learned that anything could happen at anytime.  Now, I’m convinced I have a heart problem.  I’ve had an undiagnosed heart murmur since high school.  I think it developed when I was abusing stolen diet pills.  I would take so many and stay up for days at a time.  They made me feel like a tragic demigod and I guess that I enjoy abusing myself?  Anyways, I fret about my heart just stopping one day so even though I’ve gained 18-20 pounds since getting off of the Adderall & I can’t stay on task or carry on an intelligent conversation I’m honestly pleased.  Adderall can cause sudden heart failure.  It is basically legalized meth, so that makes sense.  

Um, that’s all for tonight?  I’m going to try to keep doing this but I don’t know how regularly.  I say that because when I obligate myself to do even the things that I enjoy, it takes all of the fun out of them.  But encourage me please?  These last two days of writing have been extremely therapeutic and I thank you for that.


3 comments:

Nebris said...

'hearts' you

johnnyfavorite said...

Hello Jess,

You're not crazy, and you don't deserve to have bad things happen to you.

Everybody wants to be heard, right? Well, you have at least one dedicated reader of your blog. I can sympathize with your struggles, and I hope things work out for you.

(aka "UndressJess") said...

Thank you Nebris and Johnny. Johnny I like your overall tons a LOT better in this comment! ;)