Dream

This morning, I dreamt that I was driving. I was just going along as always, the car was going smoothly, no issues. I was approaching a draw bridge, which was apparently just part of my commute. Suddenly, the ground before the bridge ahead of me opened up and started swallowing cars and huge parts of the road. I waited where I was, calmly hoping it wouldn't swallow me. The draw bridge lowered into the ground several feet. Eventually, the movement stopped and some of the cars ahead of me started just going over it, kind of jumping it. I saw them make it. When it was my turn, I took my shot, and I made it, too. Then I woke up. I was late.

What I would do if I won the lottery

I often hear of lottery winners suddenly dropping tons of cash on major luxuries... 5 bedroom houses, over priced cars, etc. They immediately quit their jobs, which I've never understood...

I would buy my 200k home (that I currently rent), pay off my student loans, ask for a couple weeks off (and spend it helping my daughter readjust to doing schoolwork), take my dog to the vet, buy the big bags of food for the animals, take my car in for an oil change, fix my daughter's car (headlights, trunk lock, oil change), pay off other debts, and probably hire a housekeeper once a week. Once my daughter was more independent in her schoolwork, maybe I'd go back to school. I would definitely visit my endocrinologist... and buy conditioner... I'd take my daughter to a salon and have them dye her hair whatever color she wants it that day. Oh and of course, I'd pay that tailor the $5 he wants to fix the zippers on my purse.

Maybe in a few years, I'd buy a small second home on Maui, with enough space to have a guest or two, but most of what I'd do is just practical stuff... this is probably a terribly boring post, but this is the perspective of someone who has been "working poor" their entire life...

Triggers

I love my job, but looking back on old posts makes it abundantly clear that it can be triggering at times. For example, until I helped someone withdraw from heroin, I hadn't thought about it in years. The thought alone sent my mind into a bit of a spiral... I maintained stability, of course, I always do... but it was hard. I gave my demons every single day that I show up to work. Just today, I congratulated the group I held for showing up and sharing because there's no way I could be that brave, especially when I was in the state they're in. I was not alone in this sentiment. Just some thoughts. Gotta go back in now.

That day...

Yes. I can VIVIDLY recall spending what felt like an eternity desperately searching your entire body trying to come up with a pulse and not finding one. Yes. It did destroy me. At no point did it affect my ability to parent. At no point did it affect my ability to assess the situation for what it was. Mottled skin, dark blue lips, no palpable pulse, no respiratory activity. But my training has taught me that when someone isn't breathing, a pulse can be slight enough to be difficult to detect, and I knew from taking yours regularly that yours already was. So I started CPR, because that's what I'm trained to do. I knew there was less than a 1% chance it would work (even though you were warm when we got there - the most frustrating part), but I did my best. I gave it my all. According to the paramedics, I broke several ribs, which means I did it right (having done it before so many times, I'm not surprised. I know CPR). I ducked out the minute they arrived because I knew I lacked both the physical and emotional stamina to stay in that room with your lifeless body and continue chest compressions for another hour. I knew I wouldn't be as useful as someone who wasn't your daughter. Could I have compartmentalized and worked through it and done it anyway? Yes. But it would've caused more psychological trauma, and I knew I couldn't revive you. I had already tried for at least 15 minutes and that's about how long it usually takes if it's going to work. So I ducked out when they got there, desperately hoping their ied and medications could restart your heart, never letting them know I'd already tried to revive you. Perhaps that's why the detectives questioned me so long... that was when it came out that I gave you CPR. I am a healthcare provider. I know how this works. I know that if a trained family member is seen doing it, they will be instructed to continue doing so for at least an hour, even when it's abundantly clear that it will not work. And I just couldn't do it. Yes. I have flashbacks still. Yes, these moments haunt me. But I have not let up for a minute on parenting my child. She is and always has been my #1 priority. I've come out of this a stronger person and to say otherwise is incredibly insulting and inaccurate. I have to go to work now.

More work stuff

It is a felony to assault a healthcare worker. However, it is abuse if that healthcare worker fights back after having been assaulted. We will probably have a new job opening at work very soon. I cannot imagine becoming violent with a patient... I cannot even imagine allowing the situation to escalate to that point to begin with... we work with vulnerable and unstable people. They are locked up like rats in a cage, their medications are switched all over the place, their life circumstances have often been incredibly traumatic... of course they sometimes lash out. But, as the provider, you recognize it for what it is (even when you're being targeted), and you walk away.

My beautiful daughter

My beautiful daughter is doing OK, for the most part... I'm so glad to see her better. It was really hard to see her in the hospital. She's still got way too much going on, and a lot of issues... including lingering symptoms of c diff, and more importantly, the blood clot... but we're handing it. She is doing a great job doing everything she needs to do. I love her so much.

Suicidal ideation

The past few weeks, I've been increasingly suicidal... I don't really know why... I have a new boyfriend who is like ativan... he's amazing... he listens to everything I tell him and remembers it, he treats me better than anyone ever has, shows genuine care for me... and he knows MUCH of my story, which I find odd because most guys bolt when they hear anything about my past...

Things at work are fine. Things at home are bearable, but tiring.

But the thoughts persist, and they're getting stronger. I just want a fat, lethal dose of heroin. I'm tired and I want it to be over. He doesn't know I feel like this, he just knows I'm tired and stressed... and he does whatever he can to facilitate comfortable sleep and rest and relaxation... he's really good at it. Going to his house is like going on vacation. And it's so clean there. But I am keeping the knives locked up so I won't start cutting again. I am scared to talk to anybody about what's really going on inside right now. So I just sit here in bed, alone, miserable. And so tired. It's getting sunny and my old scars are starting to show... I showed some to a consumer who couldn't believe I used to self harm. I showed him a failed suicide attempt, too. And told him about some of the heroin overdoses... my mom didn't even know so many of those were intentional. I'm a smart cookie... I can count.

Fuck everything

I came so close to killing myself tonight in my driveway. I don't know if it's because my meds are fucked up, because my life is fucked up, or because my mother's birthday is coming up, but I very sincerely wanted to die tonight. I still do. I am here for my child only. I have no other reason to live. I have a very fulfilling job that I'm very good at, and I love it even though it doesn't pay the bills... I am fortunate enough to be able to use the shitstorm that has been my 34 years to help others, and I love that. But it's not enough to keep me on this planet by itself at all. If I didn't have my daughter, I would've killed myself before the cancer did. Heroin, maybe?? I was trying to remember, the other day, how many times I've overdosed on it... how many times my loving mother had to literally carry me to the hospital... I tried to remember how many of those times were intentional and I just never told anyone... I tried to remember how the hell I kicked... and why... but that time period is all a blur... all I can ever remember us how good it felt when it hit... I have a patient right now who is coming out of detoxing from heroin and wish I could share my story with her to help... I can see in her face that she knows, but I can't remember shit... I think I kicked for my mother. God, I miss heroin...

Picking up shifts

Picking up shifts... 16 hour days. Chairs flying through walls. Toilet paper dispensers being kicked off the wall. Fights breaking out. Yelling and cursing and shoving. Seclusion and restraint. People fearing their doors is poisoned, but not by us. Jumping off of bridges. For point restraints on gurneys. And stop shining that fucking light in my eyes while I'm trying to sleep! I hate all of you fucking people! I don't belong here! I'm not crazy! Whatever they said I did isn't true because I don't remember it! I never chased anyone with a knife! That doesn't sound like me at all!

Fuck everything

Fuck life. Fuck money. Fuck people. Fuck. Those are all the fucks I have left to give today. I can't sleep, I can't afford my grossly overpriced medications, I can't afford my grossly overpriced doctors. When I think back on my life, I remember the hell I've been through and wonder when it will stop. I didn't get a birthday this year because no one cares. I'm ALWAYS there for EVERYBODY. I think I got maybe two texts. My daughter said happy birthday, which was nice, but then, like a grown up, I went to work, where nobody cared, and went about my day.

I hope I win the lottery soon because otherwise I'm just selling my whole life to a job that doesn't care about me. Fuck this shit.

My fuck you letters

Fuck you and your refusal to pay child support. Fuck you and your bullshit insistence that you're putting "enormous amounts of effort" into trying to get our child to want to spend time with you when she actually only hears from you once a month, if that. Fuck all your shit talking to her about me. She sees right through you, she knows you're a douche and that's why she doesn't want to spend time with you... that and your child of a girlfriend. Fuck your accusations of me telling her terrible things about you. If you knew anything about me, you'd know I realize that would only hurt her. A child should think well of her father. I've done nothing but try to facilitate that for the last 13 years. You've been partially around for almost 5 now, and blame me for everything that's wrong between the two of you. The saddest part is that she actually still wants a relationship with your sorry ass,  but you're making it nearly impossible. Yelling at her won't make her want to see you, neither will yelling at me. Maybe you should take that parenting class you were court ordered to take but didn't feel you "needed". Do you have any idea what kinds of sacrifices OUR CHILD has  made FOR YOU? Fuck you and the tantrum throwing bitch you're engaged to. Our child deserves better role models than a barely there father who beats animals and a child with no anger management skills. And the next time she's denied her LIFE SAVING medication on your watch, you can bet I'm calling it in, asshole.

And a great big fuck you too the pierce county medical examiner's office for fucking up my mom's autopsy so bad that I had to request pictures to make sure you didn't switch the bodies! You assholes missed EVERYTHING! I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure a standard autopsy doesn't take two months even when there are no leads. But because you guys literally messed up every detail, we will never know why my perfectly healthy 50 year old mother just didn't wake up. I just got her ashes. She died 11/23/14. Wtf were you guys doing?? No time of death, no cause of death, you missed a rather sizable tattoo... her labs had to be drawn twice because you messed them up... her final death certificate reads, "pregnant? Unknown". She was 50, had her tubes tied, and had gone through menopause. It seems to me that if you've got no leads, you ought to look EVERYWHERE. one idiot early on told me it was alcohol poisoning, with a BAC of 0.05. Really?? I wish I could sue you. Fuck you.

I don't wanna be here

I don't want to be a part of this world anymore. I don't feel like I belong here, I feel like I'm just scraps of something that used to be part of the world, but I'm torn apart and the pieces are blowing away into the wind. I used to be part of the world... Now it just goes and goes and goes and I'm here all alone, a little pile of dust. I don't live anymore, I barely exist. I can't help but wonder why it wasn't me that died... I have way more health problems... And far fewer people would miss me. That day the world stood still, or at least we did... The medical examiner's personnel rushed all over in a big flashy blur... But we just stood there, shell shocked... Why am I still here? Why do I have to be? Do I have to be? Could I just let myself slip away? I fantasize about leaving every day... Sure, there are things I'd like to do before I go, but there's no viable way to do them any time in the foreseeable future... And everything is tainted with gut wrenching misery, so I never really enjoy it. "you deserve to be happy"... What is happy, anyway? And how can you be sure I deserve it? You don't know me. You don't know that in my darkest hour I wished unspeakable things... You don't know what came before all that, either. You're supposed to be family, but you really don't know anything about me, or any of us, for that matter... For all you know, I don't even deserve to be on this planet. I don't want to be... It feels like torture. Every day. I can't think of someone who deserves to die more than someone who is suffering and no longer experiences joy... Someone who wants to die. Isn't that what assisted suicide is for? In one country (i forget which one), they are allowing access to assisted suicide for people who are suffering mentally. Why not here? We certainly aren't doing enough to help those who are suffering here... I feel like I accidentally showed up to a meeting for all the big wigs and I'm just a peon going, "do I really have to stay?". Why? At work the other day, a drug rep came in and wanted to give me her whole spiel about some drug I've never even heard of... I just showed up for the free lunch, but this lady insisted on getting me to sign in and then proceeded to talk my ear off about things I don't even understand because I'm just a tech... I don't handle meds... That's how I feel about life. Do I really have to stay? What's the point? All I wanted was lunch...

Family secrets

Yesterday, we learned that my grandfather was not my mother's father. We will never know who her father was. I wonder how my mom would've handled that... I can imagine her grieving the loss of her father and then suddenly finding out he wasn't her father... She'd be so confused...
He wasn't a good man... Which is part of the reason this is so confusing. He molested children, and hit on my mother a few times... I remember her telling me how horrified she was at the things he said... Something like, if you weren't my daughter, we could have a lot of fun. She was in her thirties and having lunch with him. He was married, although obviously, this was creepy all on its own...
I can't believe the bastard lived to his 70s.

Meh.

Stop then start
Go go go gotta keep it up
Be quick be strong be smart
The dragon's warming up, up above
But keep your head up, up high
But why? And where is the love?

It's lonely at the top
Wriggling in the sky, drowning in the air
Stop then start then stop

Reasons to live

1. So my daughter won't feel this pain yet and because she needs me
2. I love my dog and don't know where he'd end up without me
3. Teresa wouldn't do well living with her father
4. I love the cats
5. I love my job
6. I love my friends
7. I need to travel more before I die
8. I want to get better at the guitar
9. I want to get better at crochet

More crap

I can't afford to go to my psychiatrist, and we were in the process of switching me to a different mood stabilizer (because this one wasn't working well enough) so my mood stabilizer dose is so low, it's not even an effective dose. I can't afford my antipsychotic, so I'm not taking it. I'm basically not medicated, other than so many benzos... At least I haven't built up a tolerance to the benzos, but my sleeping pill no longer makes me sleep. It's just like a couple extra xanax now. My meds are a mess, my head's a mess, and I can't sleep. I'm overanalyzing and all over the place. I wish I had gone back to work sooner. Then I'd probably have health insurance, be a couple thousand dollars closer to on track, and not wondering how I'm gonna buy trash bags. I'm back to applying for food stamps, and this year my refund will be around $100. I'm grateful I don't owe.
A lot of stuff has been coming up about my past and I don't know how to deal with it. I know, I know, live sucks, move on. I have obviously, or I'd be stuck in some abusive relationship. But it's weird to think about. But the money's really been grating on me, even though I know it's temporary.

I don't know

I was thinking about things... And the reason I keep attracting friends with benefits style relationships is because that's what I want right now. I want friendship, and I want sex, but I don't want anybody interfering with my life, taking up too much of my time, or interfering with Teresa's childhood (the only thing she needs is to see somebody treat me well), and I have too many issues for anyone to deal with... But I am female, and my hormones make this impossible for me. As soon as this starts, I get attached and want more. So I go without, and I'm horny and lonely, and maybe a slightly less good mom because of it. So there's that.

And then I realized that there is a huge chunk of my life that my therapist knows nothing about... She doesn't know I smoke weed, she doesn't know I thoroughly enjoy the times I spend when prescribed painkillers, she doesn't know that I'm weak when it comes to someone I like...
When she read my timeline, she was surprised. She didn't know that I grew up surrounded by gangsters, in fact, I don't think that's in there either... She was surprised that I'd sold drugs for so long...
What does all this mean, that my therapist, the person you're supposed to be most honest with, who I've been seeing for how many ? years know so little about me? Maybe I'm really guarded, but we've never had a quiet session... I just can't help but thinking lately, damn, I've got a lot of issues... I wish I was man. But then I'd feel terrible for breaking women's hearts. I don't know... I hear some women can do it, but I'm not one of them. I hit on a girl recently and she blew me off... Right away. She said she's been seeing someone, but even if that's not true, she should've blown me off.

My mom knew all of this. She knew everything. The three miscarriages, everything...

I wonder if I'm too screwed up to be a good parent... I mean, I know I'm not a bad one, but I could probably do better. I think I'm raising her more as a friend than as a child. She is the next closest person to me.

I don't know

Nothing

I just want somebody to notice me. To see me. Why is that so hard? I guess everybody seeks to be understood in a way, but I feel like I'm invisible. Nobody has noticed me in a long time, at least as a person... And even less people have tried to know me. What's so strong with me that I'm not worth a few months of getting to know me? I'm not boring... Far from it. Am I looking to the wrong people? Who should I be looking to, then? I spent my whole life falling through the cracks. As an adult, I still do. Because apparently, I'm invisible. I can't even have a conversation with someone unless I initiate it first. Every time. I'm am introvert. That's exhausting and awkward. I feel like I'm going the distance for people who won't even met me halfway.

brain dump

it's nearly 4am and I can't sleep.  for the past two hours, I've been thinking about getting my guitar out and trying to remember some chords. but I don't feel like my brain is in the right place to be learning anything.

I've been kinda lonely lately, what with feeling like I'm now the only person like me on earth (mom was like me). anyway, I've been putting the time I could put into another person into my Spanish, which is why someday, I'll actually be fluent.

I hate that editing something on this blog changes the post date.

youtube is showing me that I have odd taste in music and it's quite varied. apparently, I like almost everything. but sometimes, it's way off.

I wish I knew why people read this. maybe I am sort of it good writer... I doubt it. I think it's like slowing down to look at a car accident.

whatever. keep your hands off my stack.

shit

so I was talking to my therapist, and I told her that I'd like to know more people who have been through the same kinds of things I have, because I think it'd be easier to relate, and I'd get tuned out less. that's what people do when they can't process what you're saying ... they act as if you'd said nothing... you get either a half-assed 'uh huh', or an uncomfortable 'hmm'.
anyway, I've noticed that people who have dealt with the kind of things I have usually turn out to be very bitter, selfish people - she interjected 'they're narcissists'... she said that some do, and some don't. some end up like me, in therapy forever. those of us who decide to take on the world with a heart, seek out help and try to become better people. but apparently, we're rare to begin with...
just thoughts...

Ummm?

Solamente, soy pobre...
I've got nothing else to say...
That's what I've got. Nothing. I crave the warmth of a summer bonfire... the laughter, the liquor, the weed, the love...
But i am alone in a graveyard. Literally.
I can fill in the blanks for myself
but the spaces are really just emptiness masquerading as cracks
a cracked wonderland
swimming toward the sun but burning up on the way
yo puedo toucan pero no aperadado de ti
the crowd has dispersed, like smoked out by the puerco
the fish walks away with the spoon

oh yeah. I hope I don't die. everybody's depending on me.

I don't know. I'm done figuring it out, too. fuck it.

Something boring

I woke up excited to see you
To have coffee together
I swear I could hear you
Your voice rang in my ears

I woke up excited to start the day

This sucks, so I'm not going to finish it. I don't know how to write about you and it's making me crazy... If you were anyone else, I'd have written something by now. Maybe something halfway good...

Grief

I woke up thinking you were here again. But this time, the thought persisted for several minutes... I was excited to wake up because it meant I could talk to you. It felt early, so I was sure you were still home and I couldn't wait to have coffee with you... I heard my daughter talking and I was sure it was you. I was pretty crushed when I finally remembered that you are gone. 

It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

I'm so fucking lonely. I feel like everybody's around, but nobody actually wants to know me. I want to be known, and to know someone else. I think maybe most people are looking for that in romantic relationships... But I don't think I want one of those. I don't want anyone else involved in parenting my kid, I don't want anyone to take a bunch of my time away from her, and I certainly don't want to be with someone I don't know already. If I were to "date" someone, I'd want to be friends for quite a while first. I don't need instant gratification. I need something that has a chance of lasting.

I want close platonic friendships. But as soon as I start to open up, people either back off or start tuning me out. They're missing out, really... Because I'm awesome. Once you actually know me, I'm fun, helpful, adventurous and sweet. People already come to me for advice and when they need something pretty frequently, less so since my mother passed away, probably because they think it's draining... I actually find it fulfilling.

But I feel like nobody *really* wants to be my friend. I appreciate the people around me, of course... They're always willing to help if I need it, and they're all nice to me... Most of them don't want to actually spend time with me, but they're helpful... I feel like I have too many acquaintances.

Not sleeping

I can't sleep. This new antipsychotic does not make me sleep. It does however, have some very nasty stomach side effects. I'll be truly surprised if I don't lose at least some weight on it, since I'm unable to eat at all most days.

Every time I go to sleep, I wake up after an hour or two. So far, I've slept 3.5 hours. The first time I don't know why I woke up. This time, it was the dream. Why does my phone always autocorrect to "wad"? What the fuck? My knee hurts. Now I'm just whining. That's boring. Nothing too interesting has been going on. But I still feel the need to have a voice. I don't think many people actually listen to me, regardless of the medium...

Maybe I'm a boring person. My closest friends often plays video games while she's on the phone with me. Then again, maybe I'm just surrounded by boring people... One thing's for sure... Laying in bed unable to do anything is boring. I've been working on my Spanish. I don't know what else to do. Due to the spot where I'm injured, I'm pretty much flat in bed.

Ever feel like there are fleas crawling on you? I feel like they're in my brain.

My kid can't roll her r's properly... She does this weird sideways trill to cover up the fact that she can't do it. I know it's genetic. My whole family can do it. She's the first who can't. It makes me wonder what happens I in Spanish speaking cultures... How can you speak proper Spanish if you can't roll your r's?

My weird little planktons are lighting up... Yes, I know the plural is plankton. I thought it was cute.

How did this blog degrade into a bunch of mundane crap? It used to be either really weird or about something that mattered. I think it's the medications. They've made me boring. Flatlined, in a way. I hate mundane blogs... I usually skip right past them. Somehow, I have readers, though... I don't know who you are, or what you want, but hello!

Apparently I'm a guilty pleasure or something. Maybe my very existence is entertaining. It sure has been weird... What's some recent weirdness? I have a job I'm not technically qualified for, but that happens all the time. Tengo trabajo.

I want more. I want a voice, and I want something important to say, even if it's only important to me. I'd love to be one of those cool people who writes about current events, and what's wrong with the world, but I just can't. I internalize everything. I can't help it.

I'm done now. Goodbye.

Nobody cares - dream

I dreamt that I was visiting my boyfriend who was best friends with a guy who was an old friend of mine. This guy was one of the nicest guys I've ever known in real life, in the dream he was a complete asshole just like his real life wife, but she wasn't there. One of the bosses at my work was his mother. She's a really sweet lady in real life. The guy was constantly hurling insults at me and treating me like I was an idiot, and at times calling me one. He had two sisters, who were both total bitches. Anytime I spoke up against this man, one of his sisters would call his mother down, and she would scold me and say we don't talk that way in this house. In real life I never met this guy's mother, and he didn't have any sisters that I know of. But his wife was an evil bitch. She kicked me out of their apartment and instead of putting my stuff out on the street like a normal person, she decided to hold it all hostage. What she was waiting for I do not know. I just knew she wouldn't give me my shit. After weeks of trying to negotiate with this insane woman, I finally brought two police officers over with me, showing them that I was on the lease and had every right to be in that apartment. I finally got my stuff but she was even more pissed. I understand why but she left me no choice. The point of this little tirade is that the man in the dream who is nice in real life was treating me the way that his wife would have treated me in real life. I was dating his best friend, but it wasn't the guy I was dating when I knew him Thank God. It was some other guy who wouldn't stick up for me, much like that guy. I don't ask for much in a relationship, but if I'm being attacked by someone I do expect the person by my side to be by my side and not a bystander.
Anyway, as I wake up I'm starting to lose more and more details of this dream, especially since I'm narrating it. We were playing a video game of some sort, and I was really interested in it, which is why I didn't just leave as soon as the guy began verbally abusing me. I had gotten really invested in this video game for some reason. In real life I do not play video games. I don't know where that came from. I had given A character in the game a scar on his left cheek and he requested that I put one on his right also, and I was trying to keep my promise. I was told that this was possible so I kept trying, despite all of the abuse I was dealing with, and the lack of help from my significant other.
Perhaps the reason I'm losing the details of the dream is because I'm sitting here analyzing it as I'm writing it.

I don't know. My dreams are weird.

groundhog day

I had a dream that kinda repeated. This one took place in an alternative school. everything was white and futuristic looking. Our job was to be cheerleaders (not literally) and help all the students learn everything they needed to know. they were in online school. This was my second time being here. My knee was hurt, and I couldn't walk very fast (it is in real life right now). The first time, I'd gotten too close to a student and accidentally stopped her progress. She didn't pass and I felt like a huge failure. I knew the others that worked there, two guys who got along well, but kinda excluded me. I knew them the first time I was there, too. I brought weed as a peace offering the first time, and after all the students had left and it was clean up time, I loaded a bowl big enough for three, and handed to one of them, offering the green hit. They walked off with it and left me there. By the time I caught up to them it was all gone and they just kind of answered in grunts like guys who don't care. I think they even broke my piece. Then I woke up. This time, I was less hands on, and was really trying to help everyone. I worked especially hard to make sure that one girl passed (this was like groundhog day) and she did! They all did! So there was a little party, and they all went home. I had brought my vape pen in to share after (or before?) cleanup. This time, I took the first hit, and then handed it to them. They wandered off with it, looking for some sort of apparatus. I couldn't find them anywhere and they were walking so fast I couldn't keep up since my knee was messed up. It was frustrating because at first I could see them walking off, I just couldn't catch them. As I wandered through the hallways looking for them, I passed a lot of people that weren't there the first time I had this dream. I told each of them who I was looking for and what had happened the first time and in this time. And no one seemed even remotely surprised. Nobody really cared either. The most response I got was if we see someone we will know who it was because we will know who it was. One of the guys had super scaly skin, literally like bark from a tree, when he scratched he left little scales everywhere behind him. that's what I had been tracking to follow them. I hadn't thought to the first time I had the dream. When I finally found them, they had completely dismantled it with syringes and other odd looking instruments and extracted its contents, leaving it in pieces, with nothing left for me. Bark man had left little splinters or whatever all over the place and the other guy was just kind of there. This time I got upset about it and confronted them, and neither of them seem to care really. I wasn't mean, I was just like why? But they didn't offer much response they really didn't seem to care. I wasn't mad, though. the guy with scaly skin laid down on a couch to sleep and I watched as he shed his scales in his sleep. I remember wishing he'd shed them more uniformly... I shot out of bed feeling very anxious.

let's see how autocorrect slaughter this once...

see? it already happened. I'm trying to teach my brew tablet how to figure out what words to use, but I'm sitting here with racing thoughts unable to sleep and little patience to fix it's errors. so I'm not sorry for all the mistakes in grammar.

they drive mage nuts, though... especially when I see them later. the trouble is, when I correct them after the fact, blogger changes the publish date and makes it a network entry. so I have to carefully read everything I type, and since I don't have the patience to read what I just wrote on a teeny tiny screen, many slip past my face. I can't remember what I actually wanted tutu wrote admit, but I know there was a point somewhere along this track, but I was derailed by my own title. see why I hate adding titles to these?

I don't know why this tablet can't get the word "me" right.

one thing that's been on my mind lately... I see women in relationships treating their men (and women) like shit. a lot. in subtle, normal ways, and in deliberate acts of bitchiness... and I wonder why I'm perpetually single. the people I see being treated the worst are people I know and generally care about. I know they're good people. not that anyone deserves it... but I can't help but think to myself that if I met someone that nice, there's no way I'd treat them like that... I treat people I date very well, and in return, I am treated like those I see.  I am ignored, disappointed, abandoned, discarded, used, unappreciated, etc. and I know that's how they feel too... I've always thought it was shades off gray... that everyone is an asshole in some way, but lately, I'm starting to believe that some people only have asshole. and there are quite a few of them. don't get me wrong, I've definitely been an asshole at some points, usually in self defense, from mutt perspective... fuck, apricot autocorrect... y'all know what I mean.

shit... my description of this blog is very accurate.

my vape ran out. time to go.

Letters to the editor

you missed a whole year. 2015 was the year without you. everything good was tainted. This is 2016, and it'll likely feel the same way. I missed a whole year. I feel robbed. and sad. I miss you so fucking much. I feel cheated, and angry. other people take their mothers for granted and it makes me wanna punch them in their stupid faces. I've gone off on people online over it. I don't get out much, so I don't see it in person... if I did I'm afraid of what might happen. I think I'd lose my shit. I already feel so lost... I lost so much when I lost you... I have a great job, and even though I got injured on it, they're keeping my job open for me. I may need surgery. but you won't be there to cheer me on and it kills me. I'm so scared. of everything... I'm scared for the future, I'm scared of my sister, who I used to be so close to when you were here... she hates me now, without your mediating... we've all drifted apart, we're shattered without you. just lost people getting angry at each other. I guess that's what happens when the center of your family dies. I miss being close and having people around... but my sister is so insistent on being right all the time and I just can't stand it. and she's buzzing her shit into my daughter's dad and step mom's ears, which is making my life and my kid's hell... My brother is just off on his own, like we don't even exist. Your brother is around when he feels like it, but he is supportive. I haven't been able to see grandma because I just can't... I know it's selfish, but she doesn't know who I am anyway... I think my crying when I go there just adds to her depression. and I don't have the power you wanted me to have, so I fail to see a point in seeing her. it's sad, but that's where I'm at. My sister treats me like shit without you here to tell her to stop. I don't know how to deal with her. I'm all alone. I have my daughter, but refuse to let her shoulder my problems the way you did. that's not her job. her job is to have a childhood, and I'm doing the best I can to follow your example. you were so great with her. losing you nearly killed her. she had a severe psychotic episode recently. at the time, she was saying that a lot of it was built up grief, but she doesn't remember saying any of that anymore. she doesn't remember much of what happened... just going to the hospital. nothing feels right without you. everything's just a huge mess and I'm trying to clean it up, but I have no idea how. I don't know what else to say, besides I love you forever and I can't wait to be returned to your arms. there had better damn well be a heaven, because you definitely deserve to be there. I love you so much.