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I think I'm dying of sleep deprivation

Mar 05, 2009 - 0 comments
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I am sooo tired.  It's the kind of tired where you're body is physical exhausted but your mind can't rest, so you just lay in bed with tears because you want to fall asleep.  

That booger face Alex rung me just a bit ago.  I figured he was going to do this to me: he works tomorrow at 10 am, so he said he was just going to finish some movie and then go to bed.  "You're welcome to come over and hang out if you want".  

I've been OCD cleaning all freaking day.  I got some lip from The Other about sleeping and Abby was in a mood.  I don't remember what I did today, what I wore, etc. and really the last ... I don't even know.  I don't remember anything anymore.  

The kitchen has met my standards of satisfaction, only because it took me about five hours.  I used a broom and a dust pan, then I swiffered with a dry cloth (because my wet jet effing broke for no reason), I swept with the broom again, vacuumed with my awesome swivel vacuum thingy, and swiffered again.  This is just the floor.  I organized the wires from the fan, the microwave, lamps, and the TV.  I dusted and organized my refrigerator.  Then I basically did the same stuff in the bathroom except I got on my hands and knees to physically "wash" the floor since, as I mentioned, my wet jet is broken.  

I scooped the Ed and Echo litter box, vacuumed the litter trail they leave EVERYWHERE, then I vacuumed the hallway four times and did the litter trail again with my "normal" vacuum.  I repeated everything with my swivel vacuum four times, too.  

I steamed the pee Nico left in my bedroom about six times.  Then I steamed the section behind my TV, which was repulsive because I never cleaned back there since I've moved in - I don't know why.  I did that about six times, too.  Then I started dusting, blah, blah, blah.  I've finished organizing and labeling the wires for my TV.  Now I have to pick up the rest of the junk on my floor, vacuum a couple more times, shake my sheets, then vacuum again, probably eventually change my sheets even though I schedule washing them on Sundays (don't ask why).  

Tomorrow I am going to force myself to finish organizing the wires in the living room.  I'm going to have to vacuum again because Ed, Echo, and especially Nico, shed at least a combined amount of 10 lbs. of fur.  I had planned on doing laundry today so I wouldn't have so much to do on Sunday, but it's still sitting in my car, along with my DS (which the battery has probably died and I lost my game) and my car keys.  It's been out there since God knows when.  Shippensburg is a fairly peaceful town, so not a lot of crime goes on, but obviously it's stupid to leave my keys on the passenger seat while the car is unlocked.  Oh yeah, and my wallet and other important stuff is out there, too.  

:(  There is so much to do, but I'm tired and overwhelmed.  My OCD makes me do all this stuff and it takes forever because it has to be "perfect" or else I freak out.  I wanted to hang out with butt-face Alex, but he won't come over.  I don't feel like going to his apartment because it's not as cool as mine.  Besides, I don't want to leave Nico here alone, especially since she's been emo when I leave ... she pees and poops on the floor if I leave.  Even if it's only thirty minutes.  She's been acting strangely.  She won't listen to anyone except me.  Actually, Ed and Echo are acting weird, too.  Echo has been in a mood because I stopped giving her milk.  Ed has been sneaking cuddly time when she thinks I'm asleep, which is cute because it means she is finally adjusting.  But today Abby locked her in the bathroom and tried to "catch" her.  All this time that I've been trying to avoid her and let her come to me, Abby goes and ruins it by scaring the **** out of her.  Now she'll probably be scared of me again for another six months or so.  

Okay.  It's been decided.  I need to eat.  I'm going to make something (my microwave is the most retarded, cheap thing in the world - if the directions say "microwave for four minutes" I have to microwave it for fifteen to twenty) and take a shower.  Then I think I will grudgingly do the dishes.  Maybe not.  Wait.  Ugh.  Do I want to clean up this mess in and then make something to eat/shower?  Or do I want to go out to my car first, then clean, then eat/shower?  Or should I clean, go out to my car, eat/shower and go do laundry?  

Life should not be this hard!!!  Why can't I make decisions?  I constantly need someone to tell me what to do, otherwise I won't do it.  I'm not trying to be lazy, I just get so frazzled and overwhelmed by the tiniest things.  Especially if it's OCD cleaning.  So "OCD cleaning" is showering, vacuuming, swiffering, dusting, etc.  OMG.  It feels like my head is going to explode.  This is totally unfair.  The problem is that I can't ask people to help me.  I know it sounds snobby but they just can't do it right.  One time when I had a million things to do, I asked Alex to change my sheets and he couldn't do it because he was more drunk than he ever admits.  Plus I had THE ABSOLUTE WORST migraine ever.  He put the sheets inside out and backwards.  Then he shoved the pillows into the pillow cases all lumpy with the tags sticking out.  THE TAGS GO INSIDE AND THE TOILET PAPER MUST ALWAYS ROLL DOWNWARDS.  

I know I'm insane.  But Alex said that he'd rather me be OCD crazy than manic.  I agree.  But I still don't know what I'm going to do.  

I wish we were so far advanced technologically that all of this could be done by itself.  Or I had a robot I could program to help me do things "right".  Or just someone on call to tell me what to do.  I'm such a total sadomasochist.  It's like in Secretary, when James Spader's character tells Maggie Gyllenhaal's character to only eat four peas and a spoonful of mashed potatoes.  Except I don't really get off on that.  

I'm sooo tireeeddd.  Someone just punch me in the face and knock me out.  

Jennifer is my new favorite person

Mar 04, 2009 - 0 comments
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Exactly what the title says.  

You know how when you feel depressed you question whether the tiny "good" moments are worth waiting for?  Though I usually don't think they are, whether it's the chemicals in my brain or my true feelings from my heart, I think it's the good people that are worth waiting for.  Moments are short lived, and maybe meeting someone is, too, but it can make a huge difference.  I've been so fortunate to meet some of the people I know today.  There are a lot of people I've met for a short time that I'll most likely never meet again, but it doesn't matter.  I was extremely lucky to just be in their presence.

From the time I signed onto this website, I was pretty motivated.  I haven't been successful in achieving happiness, but that's not the point.  I am finding relief in being able to talk to people who actually know what I'm talking about - even when I don't even think I know what I'm talking about.  

Being Bipolar or depressed ... anything that hurts because your mind is mean or frazzled, makes life extra hard.  Life is already hard and with all this junk, people who haven't experienced it just look at you like you're crazy or hopeless.  If you don't ask yourself things like, "Is it worth it?" or anything anyone else would normally think is gloomy, then I think something is wrong.  We don't live in a utopia - we evolve because we ask questions.  No one said they have to be good or bad.  And besides, who has the authority to determine what question is an example of whatever???  

Suicide is tricky.  Since the majority of the world is Christian or Muslim (second largest practiced religion in the world - which is actually very similar to Christianity), preserving life is imperative.  I don't know who, when, or why this was decided.  No one can tell us how to live or how to die.  It's not their business.  They say it's because you're worth it, you have a place, people do love you, there is happiness and you just have to wait - but, they will never know what it feels like to be you.  I don't believe in rewards and punishments in heaven or in hell.  When you're dead, you're dead.  If I die, according to the Bible, if you aren't a freaking saint, we're all going to hell.  Even if these things exist, we shouldn't fear them.  That's not living life, just like having a mental illness and only dealing with surviving it isn't living life.  Life is learning and experiencing.  It has good and bad.  But it should never focus on avoiding the bad out of necessity.  

My friend called the police because he thought I was dead.  I've said that if anyone hospitalizes me, I'm going to hate them.  I am not an angry person.  For as much as I dislike a lot of people and things, I don't hold grudges and I keep my peace.  I also know my place and I'm very respectful unless you disgrace someone I love (not breaking up with them, but physical abuse or something more serious and less petty).  Alex always says that he's sorry we fought and I always tell him that we didn't fight.  Fighting is when there is rarely a resolution or communication.  What makes me angry are the people who dump animals into the wild and let them multiply and then ultimately die.  There is no justice in doing that.  If you can't take the responsibility for another living thing, there are so many people that will do it for you.  And it's usually FREE.  So why would you throw your cat or dog out just to be shot because it's looking for food?  

Unwilling hospitalization is the only other thing that makes me angry.  Yes, I am happy to know that someone cares if they think I'm going to kill myself.  There is nothing wrong with wanting to protect the ones you love.  However they aren't the ones to decide how you live or die.  With me, if you hospitalize me, I've done it so much that I will be INSANELY joyful and play the game and I will get out quicker than it took to get me there (I WILL PUT UP A FIGHT).  And when I do - I will chuck some very angry words at you.  

I don't like people telling me what to do.  I don't tell people what to do.  If someone wants to kill themselves, I tell them if it's what they really want and they can't think of anything else, then I will miss them, I love them dearly, but I understand that they know what is best for them and I can't stop them even if I tried.  Because if I tried, they would probably end up hating me.  I am quite aware that this may sound cold-hearted, but it's my morale on basically everything.  A very close friend of mine thought I would hate her because she tried pot.  I laughed and told her I could never hate her, I think she's one of the only people in the world that is as close to perfection as you can get.  She was so worried that I would judge her, but I told her that she can do what she wants.  The only thing I had to say to her was that I hope she does it as safely as she can.  

Sure, drugs in general are bad.  But we're not perfect, we're going to fiddle with things here and there.  But there are worse things you can do.  I know it probably doesn't make sense to do something bad "as safely as possible" but I guess I'm trying to tell her and other friends that whatever they do, I hope that they do it responsibly.  Responsible behavior means doing it with someone you trust if you don't know what will happen because you have never done it before.  I never smoked weed until I was 19.  Luckily I was never pressured into it.  But my friend, Jon, asked me if I wanted to try it and I told him that I was uneasy because I didn't know how I would behave and whether whoever I was with would be able to take care of me.  The reason being is because when Abby was in her "reckless" stage, she would booze and drug up and then run into traffic and other dangerous things.  No one could physically control her except me.  What made me upset is that her "best friend" said she would watch over her and she got drunk instead.  This is when Abby started ruining my holidays.  But I digress.  I knew Jon would take care of me, and he did.  Basically it felt like I was having a panic attack.  And I figured why would I want to spend money on something stinky to have the same effects of a panic attack?  There are other ways that are free to have fun.  

Eventually I smoked again with another friend and I learned to control my paranoia and fear.  We didn't do it often and I never went anywhere.  I don't believe in transport when you're under the influence of ANYTHING, even if it's just a sip or whatever.  It was a nice occasional thing.  I haven't smoked in more than two years.  I don't need it, but if it were offered to me, I may consider it.  It's just not a big deal.  I can't decide if I'm more apathetic or conventional.

Sometimes there are new things

Mar 02, 2009 - 0 comments
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I didn't know that you could have a general journal.  I'm grateful for this because I usually elongate my jibberish in non-related trackers.  I must admit I feel a bit bad for my computer.  I recently started writing (I hate saying that or that I'm writing in a journal or diary, for reason, it makes me feel stupid) but I've been using this website to keep track of what's been going on instead.  I would file my documents and sort them by each month so I can monitor things.  It's helpful when I need something physical to give to my doctors, therapists, psychiatrists, etc.  I can't show them this website, and I doubt they have the time to check it.  It's kind of petty and personal - basically a waste of their time.  Which is fine by me.  I totally understand.  Even though I keep everything open to the public, it's not their responsibility to check up on me.  

I'm so happy I found this website.  Even though my life has been frequently unbearable, there are some savory moments.  Like when I finally quit high school to go to university at 16.  Or when I moved to Harrisburg, got a job, and went to school full time.  I was proud of myself, but things always mess it up.  Right now, the best thing I've got is trying to lose weight.  The Weight Watchers coaches assure me that I'm doing great.  Even they aren't aware that I'm Bipolar, depressed, and stressed, they still motivate me.  And that's what people need - it shouldn't be a surprise when someone is kind.  I really think it's a shame that so many things have been distorted that people are taken aback by them.  Kindness is equivalent to being crazy.  Shyness is equivalent to being stuck up.  It's hard to make friends when you're shy and they think that you think you're better than them.  I've made friends who have told me that they were scared of me at first because I was so quiet they thought I didn't like them.  Or they thought I was snobby because again, I was shy.  I can't help it.  I've always been painfully shy.  

I wish it were easier to make friends.  I'm not in the position to make any friends right now, but I still wish it were easier.  At my age, people don't want to make friends.  They want to date and if you aren't interested, they move along.  It's frustrating when there is unrequited love.  You want to love them back, but you just can't.  One time I thought this guy wanted to be my friend and I was excited.  But it turned out he wanted to date and I just didn't feel that way about him.  He invited me to a part-ay and said it was for me because he missed me (I was on break from school in Virginia, so I returned 2 1/2 hours back to Shippensburg/my home town).  He told me he was in love with me, etc.  And I felt horrible.  He cried and then he got aggressive and I couldn't escape.  He raped me and when his roommate, who I sort of knew but not in depth, came to find me and asked if I was okay.  He took one look at my face and told me he was sorry.  What made it worse was that my friend Mike, who I had invited along, text messaged me while I was being assaulted, jokingly asked, "Are you being raped?"  What made it worse was that my roommates from school despised me and told me that (the one in particular) she had never been so disrespected in her life.  She treated my family disgustingly.  Abby told them that whatever I did, whether it was wrong or not, I meant no harm and that I shouldn't be treated the way she was treating me - especially not R and D because they showed unconditional kindness.  Her name was Stephanie and the other two were Sedra (she was Pakistani) and Neily (Stephanie and Neily were both white).  

This was just another case of ostracization from doing nothing wrong.  She said I disrespected her because I left them by themselves at the party, but they were talking to people, getting drunk and were obviously comfortable.  Stephanie was just being mean.  She said she was the only who had the balls to say something to me and when I asked Neily and Sedra if they felt the same way, they looked away with shame and couldn't answer me.  Stephanie was dominating them.  Years later, Sedra messaged me and asked me how I was doing.  She was being very nice and I told myself, "she is a good person, but why the hell would she think I would want to talk to her after what she did to me?"  No one ever apologized.  When I had to drive them back to school (most uncomfortable situation ever), they actually went to the counselor and told her they couldn't live with me and that I should be kicked out because I was an awful person.  I too saw the counselor and that's how I found out what they did.  I told her I was taking medical leave and she gave me the go ahead.  I never went back.  This has happened to me a lot of times.  

Even if I told them I was raped, Stephanie wouldn't have cared - she would have stuck by her words of me being disrespectful.  When it was time to head back, Abby insisted they did not deserve my transportation.  She said that they had to take care of themselves after the way they treated me.  I was very sad but when they started to harass and belittle Abby and R and D, I was so angry.  I told Stephanie she had no right to treat people who didn't do anything to them except be incredibly courteous.  The reason I mentioned Stephanie and Neily being white and Sedra being Pakistani is because, (I know this sounds racist) Asians seem to relate better to each other because of the cultural upbringings.  Technically Sedra wasn't Asian, but she was from South Asia.  Asians seem to be a lot less petty than white girls.  I'm sorry if this is offensive, but in my experience, this is not a theory, it's a fact.  Just like how Koreans hate everyone because everyone screwed them over.  

My apartment is a mess.  Ed is a very bad cat.  Though she is less afraid and definitely more comfortable with her surrounds, she's a little snot ball.  She loves wreaking havoc.  I think as she gets older she will maybe let me pet her, but I'm positive she isn't the type of kitty that wants to be held.  I wish I only had Echo Bunny.  She loves me unconditionally and Nico loves me, too.  But I'm just not a dog person and I feel like she isn't getting enough attention.  I try to spend time with her and take her to see people because she absolutely LOVES people.  But I just don't think it's enough for her.  I think she'd be happier in another home.  But with a-holes dumping animals in the wild, the animal population is out of control and it's impossible to find a shelter that has room for them.  

I've been somewhat productive.  I've started tearing apart my cords and I'm going to force myself through the dread of organizing them.  It's just so tedious and frustrating.  I'm trying to find the right boxes to wrap the long ones in to keep them hidden and less tangled.  It's the mania - I start with excessive motivation to do things but I can't finish them.  I wish I was more productive.  I used to be able to multi-task like crazy.  You wouldn't believe how amazingly fast I was.  Nowadays I have very strong will power to do everything at once.  I mean I put things off like taking the trash out, so the piles of garbage bags sit outside until there are a lot.  They're heavy but I try to carry all of them at one time.  The thing that makes it hard is that I have to go down really old and not very sturdy escape stairs, go behind a scary alley, and use all my tiny might into the disposal.  Since the apartment is rented through D's company, the trash is taken care of by CVR's back disposal.  But it's really hard trying to throw them in there.  I'm too short and the trash is usually too heavy for me to throw it up there.  There have been times where they have been too much for me to handle, so I just set them there and hope someone swings them into the dump.  The same thing applies to groceries.  I have to carry as many as possible.  I'm not like Hulk, but I have a lot more strength and a lot of determination that makes me stronger to do these things.  Don't judge me as stubborn.  Even though it's true, the things I know - I'm extremely sensitive and it hurts my feelings.  I hate being called names even if it's out of fun.  I told Alex he is only allowed to call me Mato (his nickname for me).  He would jokingly call me things like "stink" and it really hurt my feelings.  Actually, he's probably called me by my real name a maximum of ten times for the seven years I've known them.  When he does, it's when I'm not listening and he's trying to be serious.  

He calls me Mato because my brothers told him that when I was younger I was obsessed with tomatoes but I couldn't say it, so I said Mato.  I think they probably made this up, but whatever.  I like being Mato.  It's one thing I can add to the list of things that I know about myself.  

Alex upset me because I know he's frustrated for his feelings about his ex-girlfriend (skank) and his feelings for me.  He said that it's hard for him to feel love towards someone when you're not supposed to.  I told him you can't control the feelings you have for someone.  He shouldn't wait for Sasha to make up her mind while screwing other guys and then when she's finally rejected, come running back to Alex as a safety measure.  He should just be happy and not make himself miserable when he has the chance of being loved by the person he actually loves, too - me.  He was cuddling me in bed and he was twitchy because he was conflicted with his feelings for me.  He wanted more but then he said that he would be the same if he were laying with Sasha (the twitching because he does that when he wants to be affectionate).  Being depressed already, I just laid in bed silently crying while he fell asleep.  I don't know how much I can deal with this anymore.  I told Alex that I just want to be his friend and I only want him to do what makes him happy.  I wasn't lying, but it doesn't mean that the truth doesn't hurt.  I'm afraid I'm going to be broken hearted and alone for the rest of my life.  It's not that I need or want a boyfriend.  I need the confirmation that I'm worth something.

Today I look hideous.  Being Asian, I already have tiny eyes, but since I have been crying so much, they're swollen.  I don't have tear ducts anymore - I have severe dry eye syndrome and what that boils down to is that I can't produce tears.  To fix this, they either put me on special eye medication, but once you go on it, you can't go back.  The other solution is surgery to insert fake tear ducts.  I know it sounds contradictory, with me crying and not being able to produce tears.  But what happens is that I am able to cry, but I cry so much, that I basically drain the natural tears.  

I'm having a lot of emotional, mental, and physical problems.  R always says I'll get over it and is a jerk about taking care of myself.  Sometimes D tells me I better get it fixed, but most of the time he tells me I complain too much.  My response?  I say that when all of this turns incurable and devastating, they are going to feel like junk because they didn't believe me - and they totally deserve that.  I am a medical enigma.  Although I'm dying faster than a normal person on a day to day basis, I go back and forth with numerous doctors and they can't figure out why I'm deteriorating when everything seems healthy.  They are baffled with what to do when there are no signs of trouble, except things keep getting worse for no reason.  I recently had my eyes checked, and of course, they are rapidly getting worse, which is abnormal.  They just don't understand.  But maybe being blind in my twenties won't be so bad.  I don't know.  Trying to take care of myself is actually more stressful than not.  I get more hell from R and D if I try to soothe whatever is killing me.  But it's even more stressful going to a professional and them telling me they don't understand what's wrong.  Honestly, I have no energy to try anymore.  I can only worry or be apathetic.