Maybe I need a tougher looking profile picture. Maybe I shouldn’t be so honest about my mental health and addiction or the rest of my life. Maybe I shouldn’t make comments when I think something or someone is generous or kind. I keep setting myself up for these awful situations. Somehow I’m the one that always ends up feeling bad about it.
I don’t remember how many years ago it was but I had just opened a Twitter account and I was following Nikki Sixx. It was a verified account. I made a couple of observations that he or maybe someone who works for him “liked”. Not long after I get a Direct Message from Nikki Sixx. At first I thought “Huh, that’s weird. But I have met a lot of musicians and know people who know him so who knows?”. Nope. It wasn’t him and I felt like an ass. It was so bad I closed my account and went off Twitter for over a year. It kind of sucked because I had a lot of followers including the lead singer for Blue October but I wasn’t in a good place.
The second incident involved Dave Navarro. I was back on Twitter and he was involved in a campaign against domestic violence. Knowing his story and having much respect for him I commented on his verified account. Someone then started using his name to try to talk to me about domestic violence. I didn’t answer. They then came on my blog and made nasty comments about my own past history with men and violence. I was furious. I did everything I could to trace the person. For months I went back and forth between crying and periods of rage. I also kept thinking I wasn’t good enough, I was a horrible person, and I deserved to be treated like garbage. It took a long time to recover from that one.
Now Steven Tyler keeps calling me on “Hangouts” something I didn’t even know I had. I commented on his Kia commercial on his verified account and he “liked” it. Then the Direct Messages started. He said he just broke up with his girlfriend, she cheated on him and he just wanted someone normal to talk to. I knew it wasn’t him. Did I want it to be him? Of course I did. I was mad that it wasn’t him. When the nonstop calling started I did the one thing you’re not supposed to do. I engaged.
I kept asking questions. The answers were evasive and the wording was strange. Whenever “let’s” was supposed to be used it wasn’t and there were a lot of mistakes in the grammar. It’s a pet peeve of mine. I asked about it and he said he had the flu. He must’ve come on here because he knew about my kidney situation and said he would do anything to help as long as he could “make me smile”. There were way too many “babes” and he kept saying he was looking for “true love”. Sorry, but you decide on a Bipolar woman who has been sober over 9 years and has issues with trust and men?
I said I wouldn’t talk to him unless it was from a verified account. He made an excuse that his Twitter had been hacked so he couldn’t from there. I said “What about Instagram?” He said “OK” but never did it. At the same time I see that the real Steven Tyler is on plane so I asked the fake what he was doing. He said he had just had some visitors. I said “Did they ski dive over?” “Were they snakes?” He replied “You are funny” I said “I know I am because I’m looking at a picture of the real Steven Tyler sitting on a plane right now you idiot”. I haven’t heard from him since. The snakes were in reference to “Snakes on a Plane” I was amusing myself at that point.
It still pisses me off and makes me sad at the same time. I love Steven Tyler. I don’t want my memories of him to be tarnished by some asshole. I admit I’ve always wanted to be around people in the music industry. People who write lyrics that I love and identify with. So many of them have experienced the same things I have as far as mental health and addiction and having it centered around the music scene. But I’m not delusional, well maybe a little. Maybe I just miss the days of going to concerts and meeting bands, hanging out backstage. I wonder what it would’ve been like if I looked like I do now instead of the large girl who was like one of the guys.
I’m too old to think like this and maybe I do it to protect myself from actually being in the real world.
Sometimes when I’m watching a television show I find myself envious of the characters. Couples in love, people with longing or sorrow on their faces. There are times where I can’t feel these emotions in real life. I can feel them through the actors on TV but that’s it.
I have felt great sorrow in my life and longing. I have been loved by my parents and my brother and sister. I return that love. Anytime I loved a person outside of my family it has gone horribly wrong. I have shut off that part of myself for a long time now.
I don’t bother to look at anyone when I venture out into the world. I keep my eyes down. If I engage in conversation it is only with sales people or cashiers.
There are days where I realize what I am doing and a wave of something crashes over me. I will sit in my car, shaking and crying. My brain will replay all the times I’ve been hurt. I’ll tell myself I deserved it, I should’ve done things differently, if only I had lost weight sooner that person would’ve loved me, or I should stay alone. It’s meant to be.
Will it ever end? This constant self loathing? I don’t think so. It’s been here for 43 years why would it end now? Everyone can give advice about therapy and how I am the one that controls how I feel about myself but when you have words drilled into you for so long you believe them.
I also felt like this before I had bad “relationships” or were around people that were happy to tell me I was shit. I sought them out to validate how I felt inside. And they did.
This isn’t a pity party. This is how it is.
Here are some quotes that have touched me in some way.
I’m going to sound like I am pathetic and whining. At this point I just don’t give a shit. The Chihuahua are gone and I am disappointed to say the least. I’m having a pity party for one. Another day with no human contact except the pharmacy called. I reached out to several people but got no response. I’m used to it now. Most of my life has been like that except when I was drinking. That wasn’t a real life.
My family used to think it was funny that when I was 5 my grandfather forgot me at the car wash. It everyone a while to notice that I didn’t come back with him. They found me standing on the side of the road an hour later just waiting. It was a busy road with a lot of traffic. Back then he lived with us and would always fall asleep with a lit cigarette in his hand. In those days my parents drank and fought often. I watched my father hit my mother one time and she wet herself. That was the day he quit drinking for good. It was the one and only time he ever showed any violence toward her.
I watched my half brother and father fight physically often. The police were at our house many times. We never knew what we would find when we got home from school. One day it was the kitchen table turned over with blood on the floor. My brother was bigger than my father and always started it. It’s still no excuse. My mother was missing that day. She had been committed to a psychiatric facility. My sister and I had to stay with our grandmother who we hardly knew. It was there that I got my first period and didn’t know what to do. I felt ashamed and embarrassed. You couldn’t even flush the toilet at her house.
Somehow the kids at school found out about my mom and I was teased about it. Added to the fact that I was chubby and it made for a very unhappy time. I withdrew further. My sister for some reason escaped the teasing. I grew up around a family filled with mental illness and addiction. The only way my mom thought she could get attention is when she was “sick”. The doctors usually found nothing wrong with her until they did. Lung Cancer.
By this time I was a full blown alcoholic. I let myself be used and abused by some of the worse people in society. Why? Because I believed I deserved it. If my suicide attempts failed then maybe the alcohol would kill me, if that didn’t work maybe one of the violent men I kept company with would. One of them came close.
All within a year I lost my mom, was diagnosed with Celiac Disease, lost my job, was diagnosed Bipolar, lost my 2 Aunts, was diagnosed with Conversion Disorder, quit drinking, lost my friends, and declared Bankruptcy. Everything went to hell.
I’m 6 and half years sober and trying to keep it together. Things just seem to keep getting worse. I know that because of my kidney problems I’m probably not absorbing any of my medications correctly. This might have been happening for some time. I hope that’s part of it. I don’t want to feel like this forever. I’ve considered ECT again but they won’t do it with me being sick right now. I just hope something changes soon. Winter is coming and it’s harder for me then. I can’t imagine how it could get much worse. I wish my mom was here to hold my head like she used to. She would say “My beautiful baby girl, I love you. It’s going to be ok.” No one does that now. I never got to tell her how sorry I am for being a burden and causing her so much pain. Her last words to me were “I’m sorry I screwed up your life”. I hope it was the medication talking and she knew that she didn’t.
I don’t think my good days are worth it anymore. I had 2 good days. I made jewelry, cleaned the house, talked to my best friend, and cried 1 time. Today I’m back where I was but worse. Worse because I know just yesterday wasn’t as bad, I saw a glimpse of normalcy. I hate it.
What I wish my family knew is that when they get out of control around me it effects me. When my dad is worried to the point of not eating about his medical bills for dialysis it effects me. When he’s swearing, pacing the floor, and angry at a guy he shipped a clock to, it effects me.
I feed off of other people’s emotions. So this morning while he’s having a temper tantrum I’m crying and stuttering. He yelled at me about our dog JoJo. He told me not to “hurt him” anymore. I said “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” My father has trouble hearing and I was pissed. I wasn’t even going to touch JoJo I was using the couch for balance because I had several leg cramps in the middle of the night and my legs were like jello. JoJo has a sore tooth and we don’t want to lose him like we did Pookie. I can’t handle it and neither could my dad. But I know almost as much as my dad. Who looked into Colloidal Silver? Me! And the unprocessed coconut? Me! How to stop a seizure immediately? Me! But I’m treated like a moron. Yes I’ve lost a lot of my cognitive skills. I’ve lost gray and white matter, enough to worry 2 Neurologists and my short term memory is impaired but I’m still here. Don’t ignore me. Please. When I have my bad days why can’t my dad or sister take my hand, hug me, anything. Just tell me you’ll still love me and I matter, that I’m not invisible.
If my superpower is invisibility then could I please be truly invisible? Or maybe unaware? I see things or feel what others don’t. My sister and my long time friend will tell me I’m being paranoid or too sensitive. Then I have to prove it. Once I tell them what to look for, body language or the person’s eyes, they get it. I’m tired of this. Tired of going to CVS and knowing I am going to get an eye roll or talked about as I walk away. I’m sorry I talked too much after that one round of shock therapy, and after changing some of my meds constantly. I’m sorry for asking questions about my medications. I thought that was part of being a pharmacist. I try to be silent now. Even when the new generic I got isn’t working and all of the prices have changed. Today was hard, I couldn’t keep the tears in as I walked away from the counter. No one noticed the red head staring at the water cooler until she could control her emotions. They never do. This power of invisibility has been with me for so long now I wouldn’t know what to do if I was seen. My birthday parties were always for two. Only one celebrated. My sister and her friends had fun every year. I watched from the sidelines. I didn’t know until later she was counting the years until it could just be her. I was actually banned from her birthday parties when she was in college. It’s ok I was a full-blown alcoholic by then. Today I am sober and more alone than ever. I go from anger to sadness hour by hour. My health is in question so I am stuck in limbo medication wise and therapy wise. I’m forgetting words more often and my stutter is embarrassing. It’s been made clear that family and the public really do not want to be around anyone who is “sick” or “down”. There is no place for me except with animals or by the water. If I could I would go to a place like that.