I posted this to my livejournal earlier today, but decided to cross post it here as well. I miss updating this baby, and need to keep it up. Now that I have a somewhat productive life, hopefully I will have more to write about. Speaking of which, I've been itching to write a series of short stories. I've always attempted to write novels and never got very far, so I'm going to aim for a short story instead. A solid beginning, middle, and end. I need a spark to flow out some creativity, but I just read a great article on publishing and am going to dig around for some short stories to get some inspiration. It feels like it's been forever since I've written anything substantial and need to get some action going. I feel like a part of me is missing when I don't write. I used to do nothing but write and now I do everything but write.

Also a quick health update that I didn't include in my entry below. I went and got the biopsy done, which didn't hurt as much as I had feared, but still felt uncomfortable, weird, and a little bit painful. The results came back a little less than a week later (during which we suffered a tropical storm and went without power for three days, although on the plus side I got a lot of reading done) and showed that I had mostly type 3 pre-cancer cells, but because there were some type 2 cells mixed in there, I could choose to wait six months, and at that time get another colopscopy and go from there. She said it was a lot worse than she had thought, but because of the mix of type 2 and the fact that I am young, she has hopes that my body may heal itself in time. If I have progressed by February, we will have to take action, probably with Cyro, or LEEP, but at this point, while I am right at the threshold of cervical cancer, I have not yet crossed the line. This is both good and bad news, as I am worse than expected, but at least not so bad that I have to treat immediately, as that would be a huge burden on my school work, my body, my stress levels, and my bank account. I'm hoping my body will heal itself, and while the threat of cancer lingering over my head has made me make some life changes (quitting smoking - for the most part) I'm doing my best to push it out of my head and not worry about it until February. I'm hoping it's the right decision and I don't go back and find out that it's now full blown cancer and has spread, but I'm going to trust the doctor for now.

Anyway, here's the entry from my livejournal, just a quick update about school, a small rant, etc.

Getting into the swing of things now that school is back in session. The way I arranged my schedule is thankfully easy-going, so that even though I have four classes, I only have one class Monday and Wednesday and two classes Thursday and Friday. To be honest, I thought I was going to have a horrible time getting back into the student mind set, but I'm really enjoying it. I have always loved learning, and I'm glad that although I have abused and misuses my brain and mind these last few years, it isn't rusty enough to fail me yet. I'm enjoying the majority of my classes, and only one class in particular is really a drag to go to, but one out of four isn't bad. My favorite class is my Intro to Law class, which unfortunately only meets once a week for about three hours. My political science class is also interesting, although in a different way and for different reasons. It's more of a repeat of a few high school courses I've taken, but it is helpful in that it covers a lot of basic information that my other classes are also going through, and it offers up more class participation than any other class except maybe my Paralegal Ethics class. My Ethics class is also great. It's probably the class that I feel like I'm learning the most in so far. Everything is new to me in this class, and while my teacher can mumble a bit and be a little hard to understand, it's a close second for my favorite class because it seems to have the nicest, friendliest students. (I think they are all older, since it's a very specific class and is held at night, so it's aimed for working adults who are serious about school and know what they want to do.)
It is difficult to be around a lot of younger people. I've never gotten along with younger people, even when I was one, and so it can be extremely frustrating to have to listen to them talk, especially when they talk about their opinions or outlooks on things that they have no clue about. For example, I was in the library on Thursday in between a seminar at the school and my Ethics class. Two young kids behind me (probably just out of high school) were complaining about having to be in classes with "old" people, and said they couldn't understand why adults come back to school so late. They remarked that one girl in their class graduated all the way back in 2006 ("what's what, like 7 years ago?" they grumbled) and added that she must have been a bum since apparently the only think a person can do after high school is go to college or sit around eating hot pockets and begging for change. This not only made me feel old and bad about myself (I graduated in 2005, so I'm apparently even older, shitter, and more of a bum than this poor girl, whose probably only fault is that she made these two assholes feel stupid in class for knowing more than they did about life), but also made me wonder who the hell these people think they are? Not everyone knows what they want to do after high school, and of the ones that do know, not everyone can afford to go, or has parents that can pay their way. I wanted to turn around and let them know that those adults that are going back to class are improving themselves, which is a good thing, not something to be scoffed at. Not to mention a lot of these people are going back to school because the economy is so horrible that they have to either go to school or fear not being qualified to have another job, since the people with college degrees are stuck working the minimum wage jobs that the people who may only have diplomas, or nothing at all, usually work. Besides, what does it matter to these stupid kids if someone older than them is in their class? The only thing I can imagine is that it makes them feel stupid, or young, or intrudes on their image of college as a place of the movies. On a closing note, these kids are probably, what... 18? Shouldn't they be thrilled that they are surrounded by older woman, who are more experienced, can buy them alcohol, and maybe even have their own apartments? Even if they were at a regular college campus, they would still be surrounded by people in their early to late 20's. Most people don't graduate from a four year university until they are 22 or older. I don't think I've thought someone in their 20's was old since I was in single digits.
Oh well, the opinions of two, obviously simple young boys shouldn't sway me too much. I'm doing what's right for me and the people I care about, and the hell to anyone who thinks I'm too old, or have missed my chance and should go crawl under a rock and die and/or waitress for the rest of my life. These kids are missing the obvious opportunity presented to them of "older" woman. Although what they're really pissed off about is that he probably thought she was cute, and she won't give him the time of day because he's still a child. And if this didn't happen, I hope it does in the future, it would be terrific karma.

Along with school, I feel that Paul and I are finally, slowly, getting our adult lives in order. He has a great new job doing what he loves and that not only pays well, but promises to be a career for him and not just another job. Plus he is still working in the deli to make extra money enabling me to pare down my work hours to attend school full time and not get overwhelmed. If we really wanted to, we could probably afford out own apartment, or at least have the ability to share rent with someone, but we haven't decided if it's right for us to do just yet. Hopefully, after Paul's ticket is paid off and my doctors bills are squared away we can start to save again. At one point we had almost $800 stored away, but then I got sick and things had to be taken care of and that flew out the window. Now once again my doctors bills (and Paul's bad luck) are knocking at our wallets, but hopefully that will soon be taken care of.

I may have wasted a lot of time these last few years battling my addiction and my mental health problems, but now that I'm here and I know that I have worked and struggled, I know that I have accomplished something and am ridiculously grateful to be where I am. I may be "old" but no amount of school could have given me the life lessons and the wisdom that I gained through failure and suffering. I may have spent five years "wasting" my life, but those five years made me more grateful for contentness, comfort, safety, and security than anything else could have.

This last month I haven't been doing much of anything besides going to a few student orientations,reading, and working once a week. Not a lot to report on. However, this last week decided that the prior three weeks were way too laid back and I needed to be punched in the face a few times to make up for it. About a week and a half ago I had my annual lady bits appointment at Planned Parenthood. Since I haven't had insurance for quite a while, it had been a few years since I'd gone to my annual obgyn appointment, but I still expected to walk out of there and not hear anything until next year. Then again, the universe might be telling me something, because I had just said that it's been a long time since I've gotten a stye in my eye and three days later, guess what? A fucking stye in my fucking eye. Apparently I'm not allowed to get too damn cocky. The universe further proves it's point when two days ago I get a message from Planned Parenthood asking me to call them asap. Returning the call, I find out that my test came back with atypical cells, and that they have to perform a colopscopy and a biopsy to figure out what is wrong. Of course the second thing I do (after calling Paul at work) is google the hell out of all the information she gave me and try to figure out why my cervix is turning against me. I also wanted to find out how bad a biopsy inside my damn vagina is going to hurt. People tell me not a lot, I say that's a dirty lie. But we shall see, unfortunately. After scaring myself with information from the internet, I am relieved after talking to my mother and Kristen, and relax... a little.

Then after returning home from work this evening I find a note from Planned Parenthood further describing the details of my test. Seven pages of information to inform me of the nightmare my life may be turning into. Among these seven pages, the words pre-cancer and cancer are sprinkled all over the paper, thankfully not highlighted, but still there, in black and white. "The abnormal cells found coule become worse and change to pre-cancer or cancer. You need further testing to diagnose the seriousness of the problem."
Now, maybe I had been going to the doctor ever six months or a year, I wouldn't be so worried. But the last time I did this was quite a while ago, I believe, and I'm a little nervous. What might have been just a minor thing could have transformed to quite a catastrophe in a few years. Not to mention the fact that even if I don't smoke a lot, I still smoke.
On page three of my good news, there is a checklist, with my test facts checked off. Including a "possible" High Grade Squamas Intraepithelial Lesion or HSIL, whatever the hell that means. Apparently "this is a more serious change and usually represents a precancerous abnormality. Evaluation by colposcopy and biopsies followed by freezing the cervix or removing the abnormal area is usually sufficient to prevent furthre problems although continued follow-ups are very important." So there's a shred of good news in there, but it's following more sprinklings of cancer and pre-cancer.

The rest of the pages talk about how wonderful it will feel to have doctors rub vinegar in my cervix and pinch away tissues. Burning and severe cramping are mentioned. I believe those are my least favorite things to think about when relating to my vaginal area.

This is all about five days before my full time college courses are going to begin. The college courses that I am depending on, hoping and praying that I can do well in and actually make something of myself with. I honestly feel like this is my last chance to not be a complete failure. I may semi joke about my health scare, but in all honesty, I'm fucking terrified. I'm terrified of the biopsy hurting, I'm scared of what they'll find, I'm scared of how much it will cost me... whenever I think about I want to cry, and I'm totally being a stage 5 clinger with Paul because I can't stand to be alone with my thoughts to think about the worst case scenario. Although, even when I think of the worse case scenario it doesn't seem real. Although, with all the other stuff I've been through, it would fit in quite nicely. Life keeps throwing me all these obstacles, and I try to be a survivor, I try to be strong, but there is only so much I can take before I feel like it's a huge joke and there's got to be someone up there fucking with me for his own amusement. I don't understand how I can have so much negativity aimed at me. I understand I screwed up by being a drug addict for five years, but I never stole from anyone, I never cheated anyone, I never aimed to hurt anyone. I don't get what I'm being punished for, but I really feel that someone is trying to punish me. It's either that, or extremely bad luck. I'm horrified that no matter what I do, or how I try to become a better person, Donkey Kong is up on his stage throwing barrels down the ladders at me until finally I just fucking get run over.

Oh, and a great thing I forgot. Literally an hour or so after I got the call from Planned Parenthood, Paul got pulled over and searched, then slapped with a $300 ticket for paraphernalia (a pipe) and a bowl pack of weed. And, you may ask, why did they pull him over and search him? Because he went through a yellow light, that's why. Awesome. The best part? We hardly ever smoke weed. EVER. We smoke maybe once a month, if that. We just happened to get some earlier to relax with occasionally. I wish I had been there (and the type of person to not get completely terrified of cops) to ask what the hell their probably cause to search was.

The upside to this week has been at least an equal plus to the tickets minus. Paul got a second job doing what he went to school for (graphic design). Right now he's part time as the company is just starting up, but when they really open for business in October he will become full time. Even so, the fact that he has a second job doing something that could be his career in incredible. We talked about my completely quitting my job as a waitress to focus 100% on school, and honestly, with how horrible the money I've been making is lately (sometimes it costs more to drive to work than what I make), if this job seems like it's a lasting position for sure, I may take him up on it after I get some of my lesser debts paid off. It would be amazing to be a full time student and focus completely on my work. I would be able to finish up in two years instead of two and a half or three.

And thankfully, my mother lent me money to pay for my last school book, which is setting me back almost $200, and some school supplies, so that even though school snuck up on me and I have a $250 doctors bill looming over my head, I'll at least be able to be ready for school and not have to starve for a week. It's honestly an enormous relief to not have to worry about having money for school. I really hope I have more financial aid coming in October. I don't understand how $2500 didn't pay for all of it.

I have to stop writing. Every time I think about all this stuff I get a horrible, debilitating stress headache that feels like someone is trying to push my eyeballs out of my head. The stress is killing me this last week. My neck hurts, my jaw hurts. I grind my teeth so hard in my sleep that I can feel it in my dreams. I'm getting so worn down with life. I don't know how I can be strong like this forever. And honestly, if it weren't for the people in my life, I don't think I would have lasted this long. I would have been a puddle of sobbing nervous breakdown. I wish that was a joke, but it's not. I love you guys.

I've been busy preparing for school this past week or so. I went to my first (of three!) orientations for MCC on Monday and was finally able to register for classes after a run about to get a hold taken off my record by calling my doctor to fax over my immunization records. Thankfully the doctor's office was kind enough to fax them so I didn't have to a) go to Middletown to pick them up and b) wait even longer to sign up for classes. Thankfully I was able to get the schedule I wanted, and am at the moment trying to decide whether I want to take four or five classes. Right now I am enrolled in Intro To Law, Ethics and Responsibility, Legal Environment of Business, and State and Local Law. I am weighing the choice of adding on English 101 or waiting because it will be a heavy work load and I haven't been in school for at least four years.

I'm definitely going to be taking advantage of every program they offer. Free tutoring, adults in transit, help for students with mental health issues (if I meet the requirements, I need to talk to whoever is in charge and see what documents and proof they need, as I haven't been in therapy for some years, but have substantial evidence via my pediatrician of being on antidepressants, anti-anxieties, and other drugs of the same ilk.), and all the advising my adviser will put up with.

I'm getting excited, and also a bit nervous. I really don't want to fail and I'm terrified of doing so. At the same time, I'm older now, and know that this is not only what I want, but what I need to do. This is pretty much my last chance to make something of myself. I want to be successful. I'm so tired of wasting time and struggling. I think I'm mentally well enough to take something like this on, and as soon as I'm completely off my suboxens, there will be absolutely nothing standing in my way... at least at this point in time.

Truthfully, I have been enjoying my time off. I cut down my hours at work to go back to school, but because of the girl hired, I had to give up my hours sooner than I wished. Regardless, I have been loving the free time and lack of stress, and it's made going to work sort of pleasant... mostly. It is horrible not having money, especially since I am behind on things more than I would like. I owe emissions for my car, car insurance, money for my phone, and I need to schedule and pay for an appointment for my obgyn in the next week or so to get a refill on my birth control. Unfortunately, Paul got suspended from work during all this, and we have been short of money even more than expected. It's slowly falling back together, and this next week is going to be tight, but hopefully, manageable. I'm sincerely hoping that I can do this by only working Fridays, because I have a feeling that if I work Saturdays as well, I will become quickly overwhelmed and overtired and stressed. I want to have ample time to do all my school work AND have the necessary down time that my mind needs to be healthy, which is, unfortunately, a little more than most peoples.

I'm off to eat a late late dinner and watch some Deadwood, until next time <3

Projects I want to get a good chunk done during my little "vacation" before school starts.

1. Gather parts of my "memoirs" and turn into a semi-autobiographical novel.
2. Continue utilizing my sketchbook and practice my drawing.
3. Learn how to do something with my hands, whether knitting, latch hook, embroidery, etc.
4. Read read read.

And while this isn't really a project, I'm going to wean myself off of Suboxens before school starts, I'm sober a year this month and I think I'm ready to be done with Suboxens. I very rarely have cravings and feel that the Suboxens are hindering more than helping at this point, it's just a matter of getting off of them without being too sick. I have learned how to subdue my cravings with other things, such as reading, drawing, watching something uplifting, etc. I still get "triggered" by certain movies, songs, etc, and probably always will, but I think I'm strong enough now to move past it. I can't be on Suboxen the rest of my life, although I probably never would have gotten sober without them, and I don't want to have to rely on them for school. This is too important to me to let anything get in my way. I'm hoping it won't be too horrible. I'm only on 2mgs, where most people who have been on them as long as I have are on 8mgs or 16mgs a day, it's just a matter of doing what I did with what I did with Celexa. Take 2mgs one day, then go the next day for as long as I can until I start to feel too miserable and sick and then take 1mg, then go for as long as I can and take .5mgs, and so on and so forth. I'm hoping it takes me no more than a week or two.

Brand new Hello Kitty layout that I will probably keep for a while. It's simple enough to use regularly, but with that touch of cuddly cute that is Hello Kitty. I can't stop looking at it. I think I change my layout more than I update though.

The wind blew through the trees, spreading the smell of defeat and lilac through the air, permeating the nostrils of everyone within a 100 mile radius. The earth shook with terror, lighting hell fires that melted the pavement, turning the streets into rivers of hot tar. We ran, screaming from the destruction of this once beautiful world until we could run no more and faced only more chaos, more disaster. Where do we go from here? Where do we go from here? everyone asked, moaning with a fear they had never known possible. The smell of death mixed with the wind and you started to see the skin melt off of those standing farther away, then closer and closer. Water. Running water. We have to find a stream, cleanse ourselves with cold running water. Purify our intentions, wash away our sins. Let the world forgive us. Forgive ourselves. Look straight through the water to rock bottom and let ourselves lay on those shiny, cold, wet, clean pebbles. Pebbles that have lain at rock bottom for so long that they have become gemstones, ready to be picked up and made beautiful with a little loving care. Picked up from rock bottom, picked up from the pressure of all that clean, pure, perfectness running over them. Beauty can destroy as much as the ugly face of hate and crime. Beauty can push strength into weakness, fun into habit. The joy of being free, being happy, being alive can evolve into the turning of wheels stuck in the quicksand, and the more you struggle the harder it is to free yourself. Just one day, just one day. So we let the water run over us to protect us from the world that crashes and burns and smells of failure and defeat, choking in this pressure of purity and perfection, eroding us down into a smooth pebble coated with dirt and sand and sadness, until we are picked up from above and held, wiped clean, and made into something beautiful again. But we wouldn't have been here unless we had come so close to those rocks at the bottom, and that death in the air.

Labels: free writing, rambling, writing, writing practice

"To those few people (Mainly, my mother, Dem, and Paul) who love all of me, the good, the bad, the mistakes I've made... who were happy they knew me even at my worst, who believed I was worth something even when I didn't believe it myself, those people I will love and thank eternally, and I am forever sorry for how much I made you worry or how often I made you suffer... it was never intentional. For the few who want to be in my life for the good, and only the good, and tried to cut me down when I was suffering already, you aren't welcome to share my accomplishments. You had your chance, and I won't let you celebrate on my behalf when you belittled me on my journey to where I am today. I worked damn hard to get to where I am, and while I may not be perfect, I'm proud of how far I came and how far I am ready to go, but I can promise you, that if you only shared your negativity, judgement and shame, you are not to share my feeling of accomplishment with me. I don't respond well to people coming and going, trying to "help" me with sneakiness and lies. To only pop in to celebrate one small area of my life, and not know any other bit. Just because you know of what I went through doesn't mean you went through it with me. Doesn't mean you worried about me or helped me or struggled with me. You may be proud of me now, but it doesn't detract from you judging me back then. You expected me to trust and respect you for very silly reasons, and never took the time to get to know me, earn my trust or my respect, never mind my love. The fact that you not only made me feel bad for myself, but made me worry that I would lose the love of someone I truly, deeply care about and need in my life, that is disgusting. And yet you STILL think you are able to come in and be proud of me. What a superficial emotion that must be for you, although I feel your hypocrisy runs deep."

I posted that on facebook earlier today. It's mostly directed towards one person, and there have been multiple times when I wished I could say it directly to them, but for the sake of others, I don't. I have a very short fuse for people like this though, and it bothers me a lot when I have to deal with them in my life. I try not to hold grudges, but it's hard to let this one go, because it hurt me for a very long time. It's been a year now that I have been winning my struggle with addiction, and it's been a really difficult obstacle to overcome, mostly because I had to admit to myself that I had a problem and it took a big chunk of my pride away. I felt really stupid that I had let it get to that point and I was scared and ashamed and guilt ridden. I never intentionally hurt anyone, I never stole from anyone to support my habit, and I never fucked anyone over to get what I wanted, but it was still admitting a weakness to myself. I learned that my major problem was boredom and letting my mind wander and get the best of me. It's obvious that I have depression and anxiety issues and when I was doing drugs it honestly made me feel like a normal, functioning human being. I never felt particularly euphoric or stoned or however you want to describe it, but I did feel normal, happy, confident. To back this up (not to condone it, but just to explain), opiates have been proven to help people with severe depression who don't respond well to antidepressants, but they're not used because of the addictive quality. Anyway, I never knew if anyone could tell I was doing them, I think most people still don't realize how large my addiction was and to what extent I was dependent on drugs, or how hard it was to stop without rehab or a doctor, but I did it. It was extremely difficult, and I was already faced with terrible, crippling guilt and depression and this pain of addiction and this person came in like they owned the place, knew everything about me, and tried to make me feel even more ashamed, and even more like a failure, although they had never bothered to talk to me, and hardly ever bothered to be in my life. Though apparently, they had this savior complex like THEY were going to be the ones to whisk me away to soberland via some sneaky methods of deception. Fuck that. Then, because I refused to go, they belittled me and made me feel stupid for not knowing what to do in my life, not knowing stupid little facts that are bullshit anyway, and being all around obtrusive in their questioning when they have no fucking right to be asking me anything besides how I like the weather. And not to be petty, but all of these things screamed hypocrite for quite a few reasons. Because of this I was terrified that they were going to try and talk someone very important in my life out of sticking by me, and I literally cried for days because of this. And after all this, and repeated instances of me ignoring their existence, they still butt in to say how "proud" they are of me for going back to school and how they are happy to see me do something with my life. Well, fuck you, you don't have the right to say that, if it's even in true goodwill and not a way to feel self righteous. You stormed into my life trying to drag me to meetings and asking me questions AFTER I cleaned up. You weren't there for me, didn't have to worry about me, didn't have to wonder what to do with me or how to talk to me. You don't get to feel pride for anything I did. That's not your right. You can't be there for my good moments when you never for one second in your life had any pure intention to help me, to even talk to me without judgement. I wish with every fiber in my being that I would just tell you to fuck off and never speak to me again, but I hold my tongue because I have respect for the sole person we have in common.

If there is one thing I have learned in my life is that just because someone is in your life, it in no way means that you have to love them, respect them, and certainly never trust them. If someone does one nice thing for you, it doesn't immediately earn them your respect or loyalties, especially if this nice thing involves money, because that's the number one tool people like this use. I may be young, I may have made some mistakes in my life, but that in no way makes me a lesser person than anyone else, nor does it mean I have to kowtow to someone who feels superior to me. Don't do nice things for people because you want respect or something to hold over their heads. Do something nice to be there for someone or just to plain do something nice. Ulterior motives override any generosity. And if you want to get to know me talk to me, ask me questions, don't demand a damn thing, because you have no right. The only people who can demand anything from me, ask anything of me, are those that have earned respect, and been there by my side through it all, and on top of that, they still didn't judge me or think less of me. Those people are all better than you will ever hope to be.

I had to get that off my chest. I am enraged whenever I think about this and whenever I see their stupid comments. I'm sorry if anyone actually read that and had to re-read the same thing over and over again, but I just had to get it out.