Tag Archives: Pain

I’ve fallen & I can’t get up

Do you ever ask yourself how you happened to find yourself in a particular situation at some point during your life, good or bad? Of course you have, we all go through up s& downs, happy times & tragedies. It does seem, however, that some people are more prone to struggles, pain, sadness & failure, as if they are somehow cursed or followed by the proverbial dark cloud. That would be me.

As I type this, I find myself sitting on a bed with no frame, in the spare room of a wonderful & caring friend much younger than me, because I am once again homeless & hoping to start over. During the last 7 weeks I have found it difficult to do even the most basic of tasks, such as showering, brushing my teeth, changing my clothes, working my job or serious challenges such as finding the will to live another day. For the first time in my 42 years, I don’t care if I live or die. Considering the life I have led, the things I have endured, been witness to or caused myself, one would think that suicide had crossed my mind multiple times. The truth is, no matter how dark the skies, how difficult the challenge, until now, I always fought my way back up & started over again. But not this time. I don’t know if I have just finally hit the wall as far as having the strength to start over yet again or if this particular scenario & the outcome have damaged me deeper than any other period of failure in my life. I do know one thing….this time something has to change permanently, there is no alternative.

When I reach inside my memories, looking for a reason why I insist on living such a miserable, painful, mundane life; there are many signposts leading me to this exact moment.

But I keep running into the same answer….at the very back of my mind, locked behind layers of doors & brick walls, hanging on a wall….is a mirror. The reflection in the mirror is of me. I am the reason I have chosen to live this miserable, painful, mundane life.


Now what?


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Nightmares & Cold Sweats

On my second day at 25mg of Zoloft & I gotta say it’s getting tougher. I’m really starting to notice some withdrawal symptoms, but I know I can get through this. As I write, my soundtrack is Johnny Cash‘s American Recording collection. It just seems a perfect fit for the way I feel.

I woke up around 5:30am soaking in a cold sweat, with visions of the nightmare I had been in the throes of before I came around. This was one of the creepiest nightmares I’ve ever had. It was literally as if I was dreaming a horror movie, with actors involved & everything. I should have written earlier when it was more central to my thoughts, but I’ll try to recall it now. Hopefully it doesn’t sound TOO crazy, even though it kinda was.

I was visiting a friend’s house, it wasn’t clear who that was, but as I was walking home, I saw a woman shooting & stabbing three people outside of a house I was passing. The people seemed to explode when they died. That was pretty disgusting, but nothing to bad at this point. The woman in question was Juliette Lewis. I imagine she was included because first, she plays an awesome villain, second I subscribe to her tweets & had read some before I went to sleep, so she was in my subconscious. Needless to say, witnessing the murders freaked me out, so I ran the other way, not thinking that she had seen me.

Cut to me in the back seat of a Town Car, being taken to a hotel. I recognized the area as a neighborhood where I used to live, in real life, in Florida. I ended up, somehow, at some house filled with people who I appeared to know, but I have no idea who they were. Things started to get really weird at this point. The people were really odd, they had strange house rules & there were two people who were friends of mine that were also there. These are not friends in real life. Again, they were actors, the guy was Bradley Cooper & the girl was Anna Paquin. Why these two, I haven’t a clue. Apparently I was in some sort of loose relationship with the guy, but at some point he ended up sleeping with the girl, which crushed me. As that was going down, the house & the people in it changed. The scenery of the house began to get darker, scarier & the people turned a bit nasty. This is when Jim Carrey appeared, as a bit of a psychotic guy. I first noticed him sitting at a desk in a dark room, talking to himself. He endeared himself to me about the problem with the friends I was there with. We started talking & soon found ourselves on a sofa. During our talk, I noticed him pull out what looked like a pen from his pocket, but in it was some sort of drug that knocked me out completely. When I came to, I was in a bathtub with Anna, bleeding, in severe pain & scared out of my mind. We were both badly injured, with blood even coming out of our mouths. Neither of us had a clue what had happened & began to cry. In walks Juliette, leading us the a main room of the house.

It turns out that the people in this house were her family, including Jim Carrey. They were, obviously, a highly dysfunctional family. The mom & dad were very abusive. There were 7 children all together. I noticed at this time that Bradley was in the room, also badly beaten & bleeding. We were sat down & for whatever reason I began to talk to them, trying to appeal to their humanity. It was working, to an extent, as they seemed to feel sorry for me, seeing me as more of a victim than the other two. Even Juliette felt this way towards me. That’s when I noticed the sign that was on the wall that said “SLUT”. I looked at Anna & said “Oh look, they have a sign on the wall just for you”. This apparently was the wrong thing to say, because everyone looked at each other & Juliette seemed to become highly agitated at this time, saying “I can’t believe she just said that”. It turns out that this sign was some weird tribute to a dead sister. This is when she grabbed me, took me into another room & began torturing me. She also told me while she was doing this that she had seen me when she was killing the people & that I shouldn’t have been there. She couldn’t let me go, because she felt I would report her. Then, we found ourselves at a WalMart, with the three of us cleaned up, so as not to draw too much attention to ourselves.

After that it gets really foggy, I don’t have any solid memories of the nightmare from here. I think it’s when I began to wake myself up. I was terribly shaken when I woke up & noticed that I was sweating profusely & was very cold. I just laid there for a while, trying to stop shaking from what I had just, virtually, been through. It has stuck with me, but the more time goes by, the less it is affecting me.

I am aware of how insane this all sounds, but it was terribly frightening & realistic. Strange thing is, even during the dream, I found it strange that their were actual actors in this dream state I was in. I have had many nightmares in my life, but nothing this realistic, vivid or frightening. I could feel the fear, I could feel the physical pain inflicted on me. I could feel the emotional fear of being betrayed by the guy I was dating & my friend. I was extremely present in this dream.

I am aware that nightmares & sweats are side effects of coming off these horrible drugs, but I don’t see me sleeping very well for the next couple weeks if this is how it’s gonna be. I am so very tired from only sleeping a few hours & not getting any rest during the time I was sleeping. I sincerely can’t wait until this is past me & I am flushed of these chemicals.

Writing about it really does help. I am glad I have this outlet.

For now, I’m off to attempt a nap. Who knows, I may have another nightmare to write about when I wake up. Here’s to hoping that’s not the case.

Wish me luck, I’m fighting with all I have in me to get through this hell……

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Emotional Rescue

I was having a conversation with one of my closest girlfriends back in Detroit today, about our concerns for a couple of our married guy friends & the way they are, in different ways, ruining the lives they wanted so badly now that they have them. Only this time, as we were talking, it turned towards our own lives, how neither of us could understand how a person can want something so badly, only to be miserable once they have it. It truly makes no sense to either of us. These guys are literally the greatest guys we have ever known, yet they don’t see it. I never did understand the concept of wanting something you can’t have & once you do get it, you don’t want it anymore. Or allowing yourself to be lost in someone else, caving to their needs, their insecurity, their unhappiness, in spite of your own needs, wants & desires. I just think it’s stupid & a waste of time. I mean, why even bother if you’re going to throw it all away once you find something or someone who makes you feel good, makes you smile, makes you look forward to spending time with them, getting to know them, even their weird habits & quirks?

At a certain point in the conversation I finally said out loud for the first time in ages that I don’t like the idea of spending my life alone, that I would prefer to spend it with a good man, someone who gets me, who actually likes me, who thinks I’m pretty as well as funny or sexy. That appears to be a far-fetched expectation. First of all, I don’t attract those types of guys. I attract the broken guys, the closed off guys, the cruel, addicted & lost. So, what exactly does this mean for me?

I’m 40 fucking years old! When did that even happen? Why don’t I feel it? When will I be able to wrap my brain around this fact & accept it already? How did I miss out on EVERY good thing a person is meant to experience in life? I seriously feel like I’ve been in a coma since I was a child & I’m just waking up, feeling really groggy & confused. I have been so filled with fear for as long as I can remember that I have missed out on milestones & important moments that most people experience like high school prom, graduation (which I attended to watch my friends graduate, crying the whole time), a real college experience, marriage, children. I may have a genius level IQ, but I didn’t even complete grade 9! I did, however, receive my GED at 20 years old & considering the wild child I was at the time, it is a fact that I am extremely proud of!

I was speaking with a guy recently & he asked me if I had ever been married, to which I replied honestly “no, I just never got around to it”. He laughed, guess he thought it was a joke, but it was true. It’s just another thing I never allowed myself. Same thing with my not having children. I just couldn’t do it, no matter that I know with complete confidence that I would have been a loving & wonderfully patient mother. Oh well, chalk it up with the rest of the things I’ll never know or feel. When you grow up seeing every possible bad thing that can happen in a marriage or of being a parent, it does tend to scare you away from making these mistakes yourself.

Sure, I’ve lived a life of adventure, so to speak, but if you really look at it, I’ve actually lived the life of a carny, a gypsy, moving from town to town, never putting down roots & always just passing through. It’s a life that suits me for one reason & one reason only. It allows me to keep living in the fear. It allows me to keep from being hurt AGAIN. It allows me to hide my pain, my sadness, my broken heart, my complete loneliness. I realized today, while talking to my friend that I am SO lonely that all I really want is a guy to hold me, brush my hair out of my face & kiss my forehead. Simple, sincere affection. Again, it seems too much for me to ask. I suppose that’s what I get for spitting in the face of opportunity for so many years. I’ve watched my entire life pass me by like a moving train & now I want it back! I want to feel what other people get to feel. I want to feel love, without the fear of being betrayed or being left behind to mourn their death far too young & before we were even given the chance to start the life we planned. I want to feel safe. I want to feel desired. I want to feel……..anything!

The brain has an amazing way of protecting us from going completely insane. It blocks out the most painful of events. Considering the stuff I’m stuck remembering, it frightens me to think that some day the periods of time I don’t remember could come rushing back & cause me to snap. I realize that at the age of 40 I should be over all the bad that has happened in my life. I believe that I have done amazingly well considering. I have a good relationship with both of my parents now & it feels normal for the first time in my life. It took a lot to get here, on all our parts. I had to break the cycle, jump out of the hamster wheel, someone had to!

Not that long ago, I watched a great documentary of Carrie Fisher‘s one woman show “Wishful Drinking“. At some point, early in the show I believe, she said “If my life wasn’t funny, it would just be true”. When she said that, I burst into hysterical tears, because I understood that sentence to its very core. A lot of what I’ve survived is funny to me now, because I lived through it, I survived it, I didn’t allow it to totally break me. Don’t get me wrong, I am slightly broken. I am damaged. I am scarred. But I’m still here, so there’s still time to make the best of every day, right? That’s where my surprising optimism comes in.

Look at it this way. If 75% of your life was difficult, traumatic, painful, sad, frightening…if you were molested at the age of 4 by a group of young boys who you were left in the care of, then taunted & teased for several years after, not even being able to understand what had happened, let alone why you were being teased; if you walked in on a man beating your mother nearly to death & then have the gun he was using to torture her with pointed at your head while you called the cops on him at the age of 14 & you then found yourself living on the streets of Detroit, being raped because you chose the wrong house to pass out drunk &/or stoned in more than once, having to figure out for yourself how to survive on a daily basis, because home wasn’t a pleasant or safe option with either parent; if you were a ward of the state at the age of 15, taken in by your grandmother, for the second time, who didn’t know how to deal with your actions & were then expelled from school & sent to a special ed school because you couldn’t relate to anyone else your own age or even stay in a single class because you were too restless; if you kept running away at every opportunity, never realizing it was you that you were trying to escape; if you OD’d at the age of 17 & had to force yourself to stay alive, because no one around you would help or take you to a hospital….wouldn’t you want to have as many good years as you possibly could have before it was all over? It is truly all I want. Sadly, these are only a few examples of the pain & horror I have experienced the entire time I have been alive. I try to remind myself that there are people who have had it MUCH worse than me, but it really isn’t any consolation. It just makes me sad for those people, because I know what real pain feels like & the fact that I am an extreme empath makes my heart ache for all those who have been damaged in their lives.

My dreams are very simple, yet so difficult to achieve, mostly because I have no idea how to go about attaining this. I am ill-equipped at completely opening up to someone & trusting that they won’t be disgusted or repulsed by me & my experiences. I have mastered, for the most part, my disguises, my masks that I wear to hide the sadness & shame. On the occasions like I wrote about last night, I freeze. I shut down. I considered running out the door of the coffee shop where we were talking at least 3 times, not because of anything he was or wasn’t doing, but because he could see right through my walls, my mask & it scared the hell outta me. So what do I do? I make it a point to freak him out, scare him away….so I don’t have to see him again & risk letting him in. Now I actually regret that. It is beyond rare that someone can see through to the real me. I had the possibility of having a new friend in my life that I wouldn’t have to hide all my deep, dark secrets from. I could tell I would have been able to open up to & be honest with this guy & he wouldn’t judge me at all. Now, there is just a guy walking around Los Angeles freaked out by the thought of running into me. That fucking sucks! It makes me feel like shit! But I won’t do anything at all. I won’t attempt to change his mind or contact him. If I do see him around town, I’ll do my best to make sure that he doesn’t notice me & if he does, I’ll get myself out of whatever place we both happen to be in. I’m too ashamed to handle it any other way. This is one of those cases where I wish I could get a do over, even if I’m not sure I would do better the second time, but something in me feels the need to make it right. I fucking like the guy, damn it. Believe me, I don’t want to, but I do. I like that he could see me. I just wish I could have felt it in that moment.

What I do know for certain is I can’t sit around & throw myself a pity party. I hate that! I write this out so I can not only get these thoughts out of my head, but to attempt to leave them here, so I can keep moving forward in life. This blog is my sanctuary of truth, confession & hope. It provides me a place to let my deepest thoughts & fears out, so that I can let the good in. I know good things are coming my way…I just have to be open to it & not run & hide.

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Sister Morphine

….what’s the point really? You give everything you can to those you love. You give your time, your ear, your shoulder, your support, your advice, your love. Then what happens? The very people you put everything on the line for begin to turn on you, in one way or another.

Please don’t misunderstand what I am saying. This is not a self-pity blog. Believe me, I have thrown myself MANY pity parties in my lifetime, but those days are behind me now. I wake up every morning & the first thing I think, well after the “ugh, it’s early, I’m still tired” is how incredibly grateful I am to have in fact woken up that morning. It may have been a difficult lesson to learn, but it is one that I feel strongly about & work on daily.

I have made it very clear in this blog that I am firmly against drug abuse, both legal & illegal. I don’t hide that fact from anyone who knows me. There are many reasons for that. I grew up surrounded by addicts, I have worked & lived in the music industry since I was 18 years old, which has a far too high concentration of addicts in its midst. I struggled as a teenager, with so many things & did try to see if drugs & alcohol could take away the constant pain I was in. I feel blessed & incredibly lucky that these things did not in fact make anything better or go away. In fact, I OD’d at the age of 17. I consider this experience to be the moment that saved my life. Trust me, keeping myself alive that night when everyone around me refused to take me to a hospital was one of the top 3 hardest things I have ever experienced. At the same time, it started a completely different spiral for me. That fight caused my anxiety problem to take over my entire life for the better part of 20 years after that night. I still struggle with anxiety, fear & panic, but now I fight harder, I do more to keep myself calm, I work very hard not to think so much.

Every now & then, in this new blog, I share glimpses into my life. I think it helps anyone reading this to get a slight picture of me, where I’m coming from & why I am as passionate as I am regarding the things I write about. It’s funny that I keep so much of myself inside, because I’ve been told many times by people in my life that I talk way too much. I don’t think they realize this, but that actually hurts my feelings A LOT & makes me want to just keep my thoughts to myself, which is where this blog helps me. If the people who say they love me feel I am too intense, too overwhelming…well, they no longer need to worry about that. My feelings will now be just that, MY feelings. I have no intention of sharing any feelings with anyone that I am not asked to speak on. My answers will also be brief & to the point. I can no longer take having all my flaws shoved in my face on such a regular basis. Do these people really think that I am not aware of my issues & my shortcomings? PLEASE! I remind myself constantly, which is another issue I’m working on.

Back to my original thought. I am the person that is there if a friend or family member is in need, wants advice or just someone to listen to them vent about an issue they’re having. I care so deeply for the people I have chosen to have in my life & when they need me, I’m there, no questions asked.

I mentioned my closest girlfriend in a recent blog. She is struggling with prescription drug addiction. I have made myself completely available to her, when she needs to talk, if she needs help at her house, when she needs to cry about where her life went & how she got where she is. I have also been her 17-year-old daughters confidant, letting her vent her fears & frustrations towards her mother to be. I mostly listen, but do at times offer advice. I have also suggested that we form a united front against her mother’s illness & help get her out, as it is something that she wants & is ready to do.

I have found out in the past couple days that I have been utterly & completely betrayed by the daughter. I have been used, I have been lied to, my words have been twisted around to make me out to be a villain. I’m not even sure if I am in touch with my feelings over this. I have loved & cared for this girl for 17 years. I always thought we had a special bond. My heart is beyond broken, it is shattered. Yet at the same time, I am furious. I don’t want to be in her presence & when I am I can barely talk to her, if at all. Her mother, my friend, has asked me not to confront her, but to help HER help her daughter. I can NOT help this girl if what she has done is not confronted & dealt with first. I know they are mother & daughter & am WAY too reminded that this is a bond that I can’t possibly understand as I am not a parent myself. That in itself is a painful dig, as most who know me realize I would love to be or have been a mother.

If I’m going to be completely honest, with what I am witnessing, I see a long & difficult road ahead, full of pain. I fear I will be pushed away, cut off, tossed aside, disposed of. Why do I give SO much of myself to people who just take it & continue to make me their scapegoat. I have been stuck wearing this title with both my family & friends my entire life. It’s a title I do not deserve & quite honestly, it’s one I done allowing to be. I am not everybody’s bad guy.

I will continue to focus on my goal of drawing attention to the sickness of the publics obsession with celebrity, the lack of REAL news, no political accountability & flashing a HUGE spotlight on drug addiction! These are the things & the people I feel could use the love & support I have to give. This statement in no ways implies that I am soft or any sort of pushover. I am a street wise girl from Detroit. Not much shocks me anymore & it is nearly impossible to get over on me, except in the case of a certain 17 year old girl.

I don’t know what to do about the situation, but I can say that the door is closing & I don’t know if it can be reopened with her if major changes aren’t made IMMEDIATELY!

all love


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