Highs and Lows.

Oh the I fun of going from complete elation and glee..  to feeling so low that you have to pull your chin off the floor.       It happens so often you would think I am used to it by now.   But the fact that you never know when it’s coming always catches me off guard.

Last night was a rollercoaster.   I loved having people over,  doing all the cooking and decorating..   I loved playing the music and laughing and singing .. and I loved the booze.    I am really not supposed to drink… At ALL.    Mixing drinks with my medication is not only dangerous, it causes the swings to rapidly cycle.    But fuck that.. it’s New Year’s Eve and I refuse to lay down and allow my illness beat me just yet.   So I like to play hard..  I like to tempt fate.. and I have always lived dangerously.

The high was great.   I danced with my friends,  we played cards against humanity and everything was going great..  Until my boyfriend called to say he would not be coming home from work until well after 2am.  Long after everyone would be gone and I was left to clean up the mess and              and sit..  alone…..drunk… and listen to the horrible sound of my own thoughts.

When it’s quiet…  is when my brain goes into hyper drive.  My own thoughts are always of death.. and the constant nagging feeling that I have overstayed my place on this planet.     I can’t control it.  especially when I am drinking.   Its like fuel to self destructive thinking.   And while I was still giddy with the fun I had…  I made the mistake of checking into my rl facebook… and there it was… yet Another friend passed away.  This time it was cancer.    In the past year 5 people my age have died.   I deactivated my rl facebook for months.. but something made me want to check it.  Mostly it was so that I could pop in on my Sister and Mother.. perhaps a little video chat ..but neither answered… which only made me even more alone.    And so the thoughts came again.

The thoughts are usually the same as they have been since the 3rd grade.  They tell me I should die.   They tell me that I am not worth anything to anyone.  The tell me that I am a waste of space and that my life has been a series of mistakes and that I have only to look forward a long slow death of my body braking down and having to take even more pills to help correct the high blood pressure, the thyroid, the anxiety, the depression, the mood stabilizers and the sleeping pills.    So many pills…  and none even get me high..  what a waist.      I used to get a nice buzz from the Xanax, but now my body is so used to it .. its just another pill…. to help me not freak out in the grocery store.

So…  I write ‘The note”…   not realizing that I would end up sharing it with my shit with the whole community on sl..   And I am sorry for that.   I was careless and so new to the whole wordpress procedures.     I am not one for sympathy.  Actually I hate it.  I am not a ‘hugger’..  and I am usually pretty tight lipped when it comes to my shit.   But my therapist swears writing will help me.. and I agree..     In time I see that this will open all kinds of doors I have slammed shut and barricaded with barbed wire and nails

Anwayyyy…    This began as a story about how I feel that Second Life saved my life.. and eventually I will get there..  in the meantime I will say Thanks for reading.. and Thanks for following.. and Thank you for commenting!!    Maybe this dark loner who is terminally quiet might just say something of value .. at the very least it keeps the thoughts at bay.

 

 

The Note.

Sure..  I could post this on facebook and scare my friends and family.. but that is not my intent.    I am seriously thinking about dying.  It’s been a lot of years of the same thoughts… it comes with being bi polar.  But as the years pass the thoughts and intent becomes even more intense.  

I sit here all alone at 50 while my beautiful 25 year old boyfriend works and parties.  It’s minutes into the New Year.. and the highlight of my night is waiting for Jimmy Buffet on Rockin New Years Eve..    I never found my salt shaker.. and honestly..  I don’t even care anymore.

A bottle of wine..a few Xanax and uneaten dinner I bought for us to share..  All for nothing.   My life was so charmed… but something went wrong.   I found out that I am not special.. and I am not unique…and my life has not been anything like I hoped it would be. 

So… If I make it through the night..  I will pick my fat ass up and try to make some changes.    And if I don’t .  Well…  nobody will know…. cause nobody knows I even have this account.

 

 

Second Life saved my life.

My first addiction was Barbie.    

Like many girls I grew up playing with Barbie.  I loved my dolls.  I loved dressing them, and making homemade clothes for them..  but I also needed them to escape the turmoil and violence in my household.   Using my imagination I was able to create a world of make believe and luxury that made me feel safe.

I played with my barbies until I was 16.   I was a shy kid… and a bit introverted so one day when I came home from school and I went upstairs to go into my little world .. I found that my whole collection was gone. I frantically looked everywhere but they were all just Gone!    So I ran downstairs screaming to my Mother .. someone stole my barbies!  To which she replied “No.  I threw them in the garbage,  It’s time you grow up and stop hiding in your room” “You are too old to still be playing with dolls”  “Go outside and play”

To say I was devastated would be putting it lightly.  I was destroyed.  How could she just throw away my most prized possessions?!  I had been collecting them for so many years.  They were my friends.  They were my trophies.  They were my escape.    I was so angry but there was nothing I could do … the garbage truck took them away.  And it was now up to me to find some other way to escape.