Tuesday, August 30, 2005

quiz for the readers

Because I don't really feel up to par at the moment, and writing about myself and my life would be, probably, a lousy idea, and because I don't know much at all about most of you, please participate and (since we all like talking about ourselves, deep down, to some degree, I think) have fun. Unfortunately you'll have to be registered with blogger (it doesn't take long), and because of the huge spam problem this blog started getting, enter in some little letters, before you can type your response.

1: what part of the world do you reside in?

2: where does your heart reside (ie, where would you rather be right now)? This may be a difficult one if you're like myself and have a billion ideas, but try to picke a couple.

3: age 10-15, 16-21, 22-27, 28-33, 34-39, older (sorry I am lazy right now), or: I don't want to tell, it's none of your business

4: describe one of the most pleasant ways to spend an afternoon where you live

5: describe the place you're sitting at to type this right now

6: say something really funny about whoever is nearby you at this moment

7: who do you love?

8: what do you love to do?

9: music (whatever you wish to say)?

10: literature (or magazines or Danielle Steele, whatever pleases ya)?

11: food (vegetarian or carnivore, machine dispensed or homemade, green or Tang, etc)?

12: pick a topic and elaborate, no matter what it is (other than spam and merciless self advertisements)

Saturday, August 27, 2005

a nice little quote from Mr. Rogers

My friend Amy sent this in email. Won't you be my neighbor?

"If you could only sense how important you are to the lives of those you meet; how important you can be to the people you may never even dream of. There is something of yourself that you leave at every meeting with another person." -- Fred Rogers

Friday, August 26, 2005

Life now, being psychotic, and explanation

Every night my roommate talks about her neighbors who harass her when she's home. Every morning too. They harass her, she says, with loud music on casette tapes outside her window, and with the colors they wear on their clothes. She says they wear certain colors, and they give you trouble if your clothes don't match, and the police are involved in this conspiracy, and they want to take her house to use it for military purposes. She's psychotic.

Mostly I ignore her with earphones (one reason why I would feel compelled to post song lyrics here), and I have to say, "okay", and "sure" and then eventually turn my back and tell her I'm going to sleep.

She does this every night too. She keeps me awake.

All day long when she shuts the door to our room it automatically locks, so I have to knock to get in. That's because she's afraid of everybody, and she says, though, "I don't know how she would survive without you", (to me, which is, really, just baffling, since I honestly can't stand her).

But I put up with her because I know she's psychotic. I grew up in the neighborhood she lives in now. I know there aren't gangs running around there forcing here to where red and Tuesday and blue on Monday. But to her, there are. In her view of reality, this is how life actually is. So she gets up on Monday and is afraid she might be in "trouble" if she wears yellow, and she asks me, every single day, what color is okay to wear that day.

There's no reason why this woman can't wear any color she pleases, but she thinks there is. Because this woman is, unfortunately for her and me and everybody else who deals with her in life, psychotic. That would be why she is my roommate in a longterm psychiatric "treatment" program.

It's kind of similar to walking around thinking that you are pregnant, being sure that you really are pregnant, "knowing" that you are pregnant, and having all kinds of doctors and nurses tell you you're not, tell you pregnancy tests came back negative and looking at you like you are insane. So I don't look at this woman like she's insane, because I know what that's like. I walked around thinking I was pregnant for a year or more, and I wrote about it in here.

I felt the need to explain this a little because one of the replies I got to this blog, which was also very kind and flattering, seemed to not understand this fact. I didn't ever have any baby in my body. I was really, unfortunately, psychotic. And since I've been on medication that affects brain chemicals, I have realized that there is no baby there.

So if you go back and read some of these entries, and they sound a little bizarre, and a little bit illogical, and you get confused, please understand that was just my view of reality at that time. I wasn't lying about anything. I wasn't just confused. I thought and believed what I wrote, myself. I wasn't on any drugs or any medications when I wrote that I was pregnant and the things about Anne Frank. Actually I would only write about them in the first place because they were so real to me that there is no way I could speak about them to any human being and stand to be told, you know, you're crazy. I'm not crazy, actually, I really hate that word. Weird, sure. But not crazy. I have, they say, this disorder, called Shizoaffective. A couple months ago it was being called Schizophrenia. So, yeah that explains the name of this blog.

And all of what I'm trying to explain here really deserves a more detailed explanation and a better written one at that, but I'm short on time because the place where I'm living only allows really brief and rare internet access.

So for now, this will have to do.

If you haven't seen the movie A Beautiful Mind, really you should see it, to understand what many people experience in life. It's a good film. It terrified the hell out of me because it was a bit too close to home, but is definitely a good film.

Thank-you very much to those of you who have let me know you were reading these pages, and for all the kind words; I really appreciate knowing that the letters aren't going out across these lines into the cosmos and reaching NeverNever Land. It's nice to know you're there.

Strong Women, ani lyrics & Marge Piercy

Because no one asked, but i thought it was appropriate anyway, considering at least one respondent here actually took my advice to listen to Ani lyrics (OctaveOcean: Sorry I don't have time to personally write back. I've actually not gotten Knuckle Down yet, but I have the other ones which came before it. She has recorded quite a few. And so here are some to look for......)

These are a few of my favorite songs on a site that collects quite a bit of Ani Info (onherown.net):

Not a Pretty Girl (which I probably like more simply because I am what my society views as a pretty girl and I haven't found that to be very useful in life other than being stereotyped for it well into adulthood.)



Swan Dive (the version you can hear on So Much Shouting, So Much Laughter is live and is much, much better than this original one, if you happen to be locating these songs to hear them)

Independence Day

Pretty much everything on the album Living In Clip (that would be my favorite and has been for about 7 years). It's all live. I love it. You might too.

Angry Anymore (I like this because I relate to it really well, personally, besides that it's just a good song).

God's Country

To the Teeth

Cloud Blood

The Arrival's Gate

Your Next Bold Move


School Night

And there are a few dozen more.

For someone who responded to the post about Marge Piercy. Here's a page where you can find that poem. It's an old favorite of mine too: "For Strong Women" and for other people interested in Marge Piercy, she does have a website: http://www.margepiercy.com/

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

advice in 60 seconds

Basically, if I intend to stay alive (please not the "if"), there is no point to using this blog, with this odd title, any longer.

But I will, for now.

Strangely enough, locked inside a place 24 hours a day with employees who are supposedly there to help me somehow, and taking a ton of psychotropic drugs, I find that I am incredibly lonely, that I never express my true self very much in regards to dealing with my actual problems, and that I miss this type of outlet, because it helps me more than the confinement I live in now ever could. What the confinement helps with is keeping me away from bridges, tall buildings and guns. What typing to noone, to myself, or to you, whoever you are (and thank you for stopping in), helps with is talking about the entire point of it all and figuring out where I really stand, in reality, with myself. Expressing my actual problems here is much more effective, really, than all of the lying around and doing nothing does is, well, very little.

I really have no time to write much more, so here are my words of wisdom for whoever chooses to take them today:

Listen to Ani Difranco's music.
Don't trust anyone too easily, but don't waste time hating anyone for no good reason either.
Read poetry, whenever you may be able to find some.
Write your own thoughts down when it pleases you to do so.
Watch the film A Beautiful Mind, if you want to understand more what this blog really started for.
Don't trust doctors too much with your life unless you have no choice but to do so.

Take care of yourself.

Friday, August 12, 2005


i have to find a way to write a book sometime.

So, i'm at the library on one of our little outings where i have the privelege of seeing the real world again, and it lasts for about 20 minutes, so there's little time to write here.

But I'd like to talk about the place i'm living in, and can't at the moment.

I can't do much of anything, at the moment

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

the woman in the ordinary

There's a poet named Marge Piercy whose writing I've liked very much for a number of years. So, I happen to be at the library and was picking up books that I miss. If you happen to be female or any inclinations towards poetry as well as human rights, I recommend reading this book; The Woman in the Ordinary. It's an old friend of mine.

I picked up seven books; only know this because someone counted them and asked why I had so many books and "are you really going to check them all out? how many would they let you take?".

No, I'm not. I can't since I have no card here that can be used ("To Be of Use" is actually the name of the book I was just talking about; the Woman in the Ordinary is a name of a POEM, inside that book).

This person who asked me this is someone I'm attracted to. Plus I love libraries. Plus I love Marge Piercy. Plus.....right now I'm really regretting a lot of things that can't be done over and I'm itching and screaming inside as my real self can't be ignored anymore when I read something that meant so much to me for years and expresses the essence of how I feel beautifully, eloquently. And so I couldn't be without emotion any longer, and had to get up, move away quickly from the person asking the numero of books question, and sit somewhere that would allow me to cry. I always cry in libraries. Well, not always, that's a completely irrational statement; I've just spent an inordinate amount of time in libraries in my life and also a great deal of time being suicidally depressed, so of course, I've cried in libraries before.

Plus my last boyfriend was a librarian and a poet, and there was something romantic about that at the time.

The point though, is that I'm screaming inside to get out of this confinement I'm living in, and to be somewhere WITH MY GODDAMN BOOKS.

To be me. Myself. Not the patient. Not that "client". Not the inmate of the mental health facility. Not the SICK person anymore. Just my goddamn self. That is all.

And I have this despairing knowledge that such will never happen again.

I miss people so much as well. And I miss my books. And, more to the point really, I miss me. I miss just being me, sans illnesses.

This all makes me very sad.

Where is Brad right now (the librarian)? I don't know since I always lose touch with people. How is my friend Prudence?

Why can't the guy I'm attracted to be something of a normal nature, not somebody who is unfortunately confined just like I am? Why does it have to be so complicated that in order for the authorities to prevent me from illegally killing myself, I have to live in an overcrowded prison-like hellhole for months, so when I become attracted to this guy in the place, I can't tell him as if the desire to kiss him comes out we'll both be worse off than we already are, so even at the library with the lovely lake in the back, I can't say, hey, look, you're cute, I like you, kiss me once. Because such NORMAL human actions are forbidden once you're slapped with a label like Schizophrenia and stuck in a goddamn institution.

This is not a life worth living at all. It really is not. I told, in fact the judge at my hearing that I knew very well I would get more depressed if they sentenced me to do time in this "rehabilitation" facility for months on end, and I knew very well what I was talking about because such is precisely what has happened. And that's rather annoying right now. That's actually really pissing me off right now. Someday I will type in here the statement I made to that judge. I think I kept it. I think it's the most important statement I've ever made to anyone, because it was something that holds true for a lot of people worldwide. A lot of people - yeah, please emphasize the PEOPLE part here too, not subhumans - people who have this particular label for their mental health diagnosis etc., are ending up in situations that are supposedly helpful and are in reality worse off than the problem itself would be.

That's all I can say at the moment about that. And Marge Piercy, who had cancer and was/is a valiant feminist and an amazing woman, is one hell of a good writer. So check out her poems, and Robert Lowell's, and Adrienne Rich's, and Gary Snyder's, and some others, if you are so inclined. They will give you a wider view of the world than your eyes can.

Friday, August 05, 2005

still alive......

okay, to pick this back up.......

i was going to shoot myself....i was stopped by police and have been in "treatment" *that word carries a huge variety of definitions, every since.

People are lovely and fascinating everywhere, but my life is a pile of garbage now, and basically.......

If I don't escape from here soon (which would be, honestly, easy to do), or find a way to commit suicide in here, or wait until I get out of here which would then make it almost inevitable, hopefully the drugs the doctor here is tarnishing my brain with will be changed because right now I can't see too many reasons to stay on this planet with the downward spiral that has come to define my life.

I have no internet access and that's about all I have to say until some other point in time.