Category Archives: Midori

Suicide: An Examination

(TW- pretty obvious I’d say. Don’t read if you can’t handle frank suicide talk.)

The past month I have tried to kill myself twice. Overdosing on pills and slicing my wrists open.

I failed twice.

Due to interventions by people who contacted EMS and police to force me to the hospital.

I’m sure those more optimistic sorts of people would say it’s that I was “rescued” or “saved” from that whole “permanent solution to a temporary problem”.

It isn’t feeling much temporary to me. It’s been over a year now. I am an utter shell of a person. Can’t get a job. Can barely keep my head together for longer than a couple days. Time ebbs and flows and dribbles and spurts.

The only constant is pain and despair.

I find little joy in anything. I’ve been through so many different anti-depressants and such that I can’t even remember all their names. None of them help. Many of them made things worse (fuck you Prozac). I am trying very hard to remain here due to promises I’ve made to family and friends who at times I feel are being selfish in their demands of me. But perhaps I am the selfish one. It’s hard to know.

What I want to do though is record all that happened. So this entry is obviously after all the ODs and psych ward and hospitalizations and pills-pills-pills. I write this while sitting in my own bed with Zoe nearby. But the next series of entries are copied from a composition journal I used to write both my “goodbye letters” to various people and my entries during the psych ward stay.

Eventually the idea is that I will not be in this suicidal mindset anymore and looking back on this entries might be informative to me. I suppose. I just need to get it out anyway. I’m sure it will not strike many people on here as that fascinating of a read and god knows none of you are required to read any of the following posts. They are mostly for me.

For me and the universe.

I would like to dissect and examine the mindset behind the desire for suicide.

First session

“I’m lying there wondering what happens next and I hear a voice. It says, ‘Man, this is not a way to live. This is a way to die.'” -Cornell, “28 Days”


Today was the day. As the alarm blared, and a hand reached from under the covers to slam it off.

Fuckin’ alarm

She shrugged off the echoing words, well-used to strange thoughts and ringing words she didn’t remember thinking. It matched well with scrawled notes she didn’t remember writing and stacks of books earmarked at pages she didn’t remember reading.

The strange bruises and cuts on the canvas of her body. A quick glance in the bathroom before dressing showed there weren’t any new ones today.

Her stomach felt strangely hollow, but she ignored it. Breakfast wasn’t happening anyway. Running too late. She shoved a wad of cash into her hip pocket. She’d get food at lunch. The worshipful caress of her sharp hipbone said otherwise, but it wasn’t noticed.

Time hop-skipped and she was at her locker. The hopscotch jump of lost time didn’t faze her. Thankfully it was a routine school day and she could easily see by the clock on the wall that all she missed was the trip to school and maybe a bit of pre-homeroom socializing. Nothing she would be required to recall at a moment’s notice. But then a post-it on the inside of her locker caught her eye.

Meeting with the counselor today- after lunch

Panic rose. She would have to discuss “things” with this woman. Explain why her schoolwork was slipping and why her friends never saw her eat.

“Hey. Today’s the day.” said a voice to her left. She jerked silently before noticing it was a real person standing next to her. Katherine.

“Yeah. Today.” She replied.

“Are you still mad at me for telling your mom?” Katherine’s bright blue eyes were concerned and Kit momentarily wondered why she wasn’t mad. Normally she would be. She had been furious at Sarah back in middle school. Telling the school guidance counselor about having to prevent her from drinking bleach at a party. That anger seemed to bubble and overflow for weeks. Months.

But Katherine telling her mom about not eating? Nothing. Even though it was the missing piece in the mystery of “Kit’s mental status” that her mother was trying to untangle.

“I’m not mad.” She replied honestly. She had a sudden flirty urge to play with her hair. She squinted for a moment, trying to place the urge. It didn’t feel like hers. Katherine raised an eyebrow.

“What are you planning to talk about? Josh? Texas? Your dad?”

“I dunno. Maybe. Depends on the person.” She shoved the locker closed and twirled the lock compulsively.

“I think you should tell them about everything.” Katherine pushed. Kit’s eyes cut away, fluttering.

Another pair looked up.

Everything?” came the sharp reply. The eyes accompanying the harsh word seemed in contrast. They were a bit shy, but also warm. Katherine turned a bit pink. Her turn to glance away.

“Well. That’s up to you.”

The sharper eyes fiddled with her small green purse, pawing through it with purpose. Suddenly a rattling sound announced success and she pulled out a small bottle of painkillers. Katherine frowned. “More headaches?”

“There’s always more headaches.” Midori replied. “Today’s upcoming party isn’t exactly a help.”

“So you are mad.”

“Jesus Katherine. I said I wasn’t.” Midori huffed, tipping the bottle expertly and dry-swallowing a couple of the oblong white pills. “I’m going to be late.” She shoved the bottle back into the purse and looked expectedly at the dark haired girl in front of her. Katherine glanced at the clock.

“Oh. You’re right. I’ll walk you?”

“Whatever. Your tardy record.”

“Media doesn’t care. As long as we turn in projects, we can pretty much be wherever.”

“Should have gone the media track.” Midori replied, automatically falling into step next to Katherine. Sometimes their arms brushed. It was one of Midori’s favorite parts of the day and she hoarded the feelings jealously.


It was lunchtime by the time Kit was aware and she automatically headed to the table she shared with Germany and a couple other friends. She avoided glancing where Josh and Texas would be sitting, half in each other’s lap.

Charlotte peeked out and saw. She rolled her eyes, knowing she was better at pleasing Josh anyhow. Not her fault he preferred the sane.

Germany never asked why she just drank a diet coke. The excuse of headaches and migraines worked well for Kit’s supposed closest friend.

Lunch didn’t last as long as Kit hoped. As her other friends threw the remnants of their lunches away and headed towards the classrooms, Kit clutched her half finished diet coke and walked towards the faculty side of the building.

It felt like a death march.

The kids all knew where “special meetings” were held at the school. Whether it was tutoring, discipline discussions, or counseling, there was only one area it happened. Kit opened the door to the lobby and tried to dodge the eyes of a secretary she’d never met before.

Blackness

It was Roms who surfaced this time and timidly walked up to the counter. She recognized the sign-in sheet, similar to the one for when she arrived after third bell. She filled out the body’s name, then finally met the eyes of the secretary. The woman was obviously judging her, but Roms tried not to think about that. Someone important needed to attend this meeting. This meeting could not be lost entirely. That’s something a crazy person would do. Sane people remember. The primary goal was to appear sane.

The secretary glanced at the sheet, then at something on her computer screen.

“Room three. It’s the last one.” She pointed down a short hallway. Roms gave a brief nod and headed towards Room Three.

She opened the door and saw a woman already in there. She paused.

“Are you K____? You’re in the right place.” The woman said, a smile on her face. She was younger than Roms expected. Barely out of college. She entered tentatively, the diet coke held in front like a shield.

“Is this all right?” She asked. The woman nodded with a smile.

“Sure. I’m Joy.”

A derisive snort exploded in the back of Roms’ mind, but she ignored it. Fought to not let the offensive sound reach the air verbally.

“K____.” She lied automatically. Joy nodded.

“Do you know why you’re here?”

“Because my father won’t pay for a real psychologist and doing it through the school is free.” Midori interjected bluntly.

Roms pushed back the sensation of a blush but wasn’t positive if her face remained passive. Lately, her and Midori had less of a wall. They synced in many of their goals for the body, so perhaps that was why.

Joy had about as good a poker face as Roms herself so there was no way to tell if the blush avoidance was successful.

“What are you hoping to get out of these meetings?” Joy asked

Roms paused, considering.

“You can be honest. It stays between us.” Joy encouraged.

“I suppose it would be whatever is needed to reassure my parents and friends that I’m fine.” Roms answered truthfully.

“Are you fine?” Joy asked.

“No.”

“Do you want to elaborate on that right now?” Her tone seemed hopeful. Rom felt the immediate upheaval and internal lip curl.

“Probably not.” She said quietly. Joy nodded easily.

“That’s fine. We don’t know much about each other yet. Please do sit.” She offered the open seats at the round table she was at. Roms chose one diagonal from the therapist. Not across, not next to. That seemed the most comfortable. Joy made a note in her pad.

“Let’s start with some easy stuff. Any pets?” She asked, her tone disarming. The buzzing bees of Roms’ head increased. Suspicion was high. Roms pushed back as much as she could, trying to focus on the fact that getting through this meant parents backing the fuck off. That thought decreased the buzzing.

“Two cats. Girls. Velvet and Ashes.” She went ahead and supplied the names. Knowing that was the logical next question. She’d handled enough guidance counselors to know the line of questioning.

“Do you take care of them mostly? Or your parents?”

“They’re only at my father’s house. But I mostly take care of them. He will on the weekends I’m at Mom’s.” This commentary caused another note made to Joy’s pad.

“Do you see your parents equally?”

“That’s the technical deal. But since school is here, I’m at my father’s more. Most of my friends live here.”

“Understandable. And your parents are okay with that arrangement?”

“Yep. Friendliest divorced parents you’ll ever meet.” Roms’ tone edged on facetious as Midori crept out slightly, “Their separation was a business arrangement. Neat, organized, timely, and emotionless.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.” Joy said, her expression remaining fixed. Midori rolled her eyes.

“Okay.” She replied without argument. Joy seemed to react to this, and made another note.

“Why do you say it’s like a business arrangement?”

Midori slumped slightly in the chair. She definitely hadn’t taken enough painkillers for this woman. It was ridiculous that Roms thought to go along easily with this bullshit.

Midori debated a moment on letting Rika out to just end the session bluntly. But that could end with further counseling and possibly school faculty involved. Rika was not good at censoring her language.
Last time in Geography when the boy had made a crude pass at Kit, Rika’s response got her kept after the bell. Thankfully the teacher liked Kit, and had heard part of what the boy said. So the discussion was mostly for show. Not a true disciplinary action.

Rika in this situation would end differently, Midori was pretty sure. She sighed heavily.

“Look. I get that I’m here to ‘sort things out’ or whatever. But I really hate the constant ‘why’ follow up questions to things I say. Can we do this a different way?”

“I appreciate the honesty, K____.” Joy replied matter-of-factly. She did not make a note on her pad. Midori wasn’t sure what that meant. “Any suggestions on the best way to do this?”

“The way that gets me out of here and my parents no longer pissed.” Midori answered.

“Well I’m going to be honest with you then, K____. That’s going to have to involve some whys. I have to be able to see why things are not fine. Eventually. Or the parents probably won’t be cool.”

Midori picked up on Joy trying to make her speech more high school causual in its rhythm and some word choices, but it mostly sounded odd. It put the whole head on edge. Even distant parts of the pieces who were truly unaware of there being a system.

“I’m not sure what to tell you.” Midori said stubbornly.

Then there was a push and Roms gave way. “I guess I should say I just got out of a long relationship. For high school. Almost a whole year. I was dumped a couple weeks ago. He’s going out with one of my former best friends now. Found out they were already doing stuff behind my back for months. My other best friend that I sit with at lunch hasn’t noticed I haven’t eaten at school in three weeks.” Roms paused, hesitant with the last big tidbit. Then she focused again on the goals of just getting through this as honestly as they could without getting committed.

“And my third best friend…she’s the only one who’s noticed anything different about me. But I think I have a crush on her. I don’t know how to feel about that. I’ve only liked boys. I still like boys. I’m not a lesbian.” Roms’ tone became desperate at the end as pieces of emotions breathed in from other corners of the system.
Being more abnormal was a fucking disaster.

Why couldn’t they just be normal.

Joy was silent for a long time. It felt like forever. Roms was resisting the urge to give way to The Compulsives, who would pick or scratch, or toy with something and make the abnormal even more obvious. She remained rigid, in body and head. The headache increased.

“Thank you. That’s very helpful.” Joy said, finally starting to make some notes on her pad. “I think having feelings for people who care for you can be good, healthy, even if they seem confusing. I think we really got through a lot of stuff today for a first session. Is it okay with you if we stop early today? I think you need to pause after telling me all that. And I need to pause too before talking to you about all that. But I’m glad we were able to open a little bit of this box you keep.”

Roms stared, resisting the urge to drop her jaw in open-mouthed surprise. Joy knew about the box. Joy carefully didn’t meet her eyes while she finished writing and Roms composed herself, mentally running through all that had happened in this room. With Joy.

It was vital that Kit be aware of this whole first session.

Roms had a feeling these sessions with Joy would determine some important direction for the future. Others were more skeptical, but Roms was the one who was usually right about those sort of predictions.

Something important was at work here.

Splintered

I am splintered.  Really struggling with the whole unity and “I”.  Feeling only like a “we” the past couple days.

And we are not agreeable or allies in any way.
__________________________________________________

I’m not sure what made me decide to confide in him over text about being fat and ugly and needing pills and laxatives.  I’ve never spoken to anyone about it before.  I did take some pills and washed them down with a couple shots of liquor.  It makes it easier to not think about food.  I don’t need food.  Food makes me fat.

Then he texted us.  And sent everyone into a tailspin.  Charlotte is squirming in that nasty way she does.  He asks if I’m all right.  If I’m coping with all my new stress.  He says he misses me.  He asks about the new guy.  I don’t want to talk about Craig.  He says he’s worried about me.  He wonders if I’m handling living alone all right.

And I tell him.

I tell him I’m so fat and I have to take the laxatives on the weekend because otherwise I can’t go to work.  That during the week it’s hard and I struggle so bad to be a good girl.  That the other ladies at work always look so chic.  And they notice when I lose weight.  They notice every single pound.  And they are so happy for me.  So very happy.  They praise.  They congratulate.  They sing and shout and smile.  Their white teeth take up their whole face like fence posts in front of a perfect house.  A house a lady would have.

He cuts off my rantings and calms me down.  His encouragement and praise for my body being the way it is skitters into my brain and wraps around me like a blanket.  He dismisses the thoughts of blubber, of fat, of sludge.  I tell him it’s been weeks since he’s seen my anyway.

He says it doesn’t matter.  He doesn’t like me being so cruel to myself.  He says he cares.

How can he care?  He just leaves and dismisses me.  He doesn’t care at all.

He never cared when Audrey was hurting from the mess he made.
(he never thought the pregnancy was a two-person effort)

Why am I the one who feels pain at his words?  I don’t care what boys think.  What is wrong with me?
Charlotte’s affecting me too much.

More pills.

-Victoria

__________________________________________________

I’m not exactly sure who told Craig our address.  My best guess is Charlotte or Kit.  It’s hard to know.  All I know is this boy stands in my living room, offering gifts of chocolate, ice cream, diet coke (Kit’s weakness) to try and make our back pain better.

But I barely know him.  I certainly don’t know him well enough to chose to let him into our residence.  But someone thinks he’s safe.  I think about enlisting Rika to help me boot him out.

It’s Charlotte that surfaces instead.  She entices him into the bedroom, saying they’ll watch a movie.  I wrestle control enough to stiffly watch a movie with him.  The damn muscle relaxers are messing me up badly.  Me, who can handle most pills like a trooper.  It is my talent, after all.

The rest of the evening slips past me.  I doze at one point.

The body dozes.

The boy doesn’t leave.

It’s me who wakes up in the cold light of morning and feels the pressure of an arm slung over my waist.  Rika fights her way forward but is caught by something.  By someone.

And suddenly I am gone.

-Midori

__________________________________________________

no one knows self-sabotage like i do.  the boy moves closer, muttering something about mornings and food.  i remain perfectly still.  i am a statue.  i am always a statue when they want me to be.

but he wants to get up and go get food.  i stare at him.  he remarks that i can’t go to a restaurant in pajamas.  i look down and notice that i am fully clothed in a t-shirt and the loose pants that say coca-cola in red.  i glance back up at the boy.  he is fully clothed in jeans and a black t-shirt.  he tilts his head slightly and says something.  then he smiles in a sickeningly honest way.

i run

-daria
__________________________________________________

I could eat.  I change clothes in the bathroom and accompany him to Bob Evans.  Breakfast sounds the best.

I am a little disappointed over the lack of activity last night, but he seems to be the type who isn’t into a quick roll in the sack anyway.

In my disappointment, my thoughts easily drift to Army as he natters on about his antics with friends back during his school days.  I wonder how much Victoria’s craziness scared Army.  It doesn’t seem like much, considering he last texts are about how he’ll always listen to us if we need it and all he wants to do is help.  I idly wonder what sort of help I might be able to get that offer to extend to….

I snap to attention when Craig mentions children and stare at him.  He speaks again, talking about how he-wants-a-family-and-he-has-name-ideas-and-he-thought-his-ex’s-baby-might-have-been-his-but-the-timing-wasn’t-right-and-that’s-probably-a-good-thing-anyway-because-he’s-done-with-her-and-a-child-should-be-with-someone-he’s-attracted-to-and-cares-about…

His eyes focus.  I blink.  And frown.

No fucking way.

I fucked that shit up before.  I am not gonna be the one to crack open that jar this time.  Not to mention that the last time was a complete accident.  This guy sounds like he’d hide our birth control pills.

Fucking hell.

-Charlotte
__________________________________________________

Impartial View

This whole ridiculous thing with Army has gotten a bit out of hand.  Especially on here.

No one so far has given a fair, impartial view of what this relationship is like.  Of who is really the problem.  Of what the issues truly are and whether they would be worth working out.

Being that Rika is too much against relationships, I am probably truly the best unbiased judge.  I had some input on this list from Serefina, our “legal-minded” alter.

_________________________________

Army Factoids

  • He works in the medical field with extremely varying shifts, hours, and unreliable time off.
    However, our own jobs are extremely demanding and we don’t like being smothered anyway.
  • He’s extremely intelligent
    Thank the gods for witty banter
  • He’s mostly emotionally distant, except in times of privacy and intimacy
    We don’t like being all gooey in front of others anyway (unless we’re drunk), so this works out in general.  Sometimes we’re the more emotionally distant, especially during sex.
  • He very rarely apologizes.
    This is only a big problem because it’s triggery because of Father.  Honestly, when he’s really done wrong, he apologizes. Eventually.  Usually the first opportunity we’re alone in person.  He doesn’t like apologizing over text or phone calls.
  • Despite his military history and extensive collection of guns, somehow does not trigger us as violent or threatening in any way.
    This is lovely and puzzling at the same time.  Though there is no man on Earth we trust with our emotional/mental state, he is one of the few we trust with our physical.  Wholeheartedly.
  • He reallllly sucks at the whole romantic stuff (like sweet gifts, random surprises, cute dates, etc.)
    This is only particularly hard because we had gotten used to the smothering romances of Katherine and previous exes.  We aren’t really the kind of woman who needs a bunch of crap.  It’s just nice to be reminded that we’re wanted.
  • But he is usually fine with most suggestions we have of date locations and activities
    This almost makes up for the lack of romantic initiative.
  • Though he doesn’t love horror movies, he doesn’t hate them either.  He gets that we love them and will go out of his way to watch one with us
    This is a big thing, considering I doubt we could date anyone who couldn’t watch horror movies. It’s not a big thing that he isn’t a huge fan- we like being the bigger geek in that sense.
  • He loves anything we bake
    Obviously I can’t say anything negative about this fact.
  • Though he isn’t much for comforting, will listen to us when we’re upset.
    We don’t really want comfort.  Just an ear and validation that we have a right to be upset.  He’s very good at that.
  • He loves Zoe wholeheartedly
    And she loves him back.  He’s the only person (besides us) that can walk in any door and she doesn’t bark at him once.  She only bounds to him happily.  That says a lot.
  • He gives us medical assistance when we’re sick or when we ask- but respects our boundaries and triggers in regards to medicine and medical persons/places.
    Basically he doesn’t drag us to hospital unless we’re in serious danger. And he helps that danger not happen by giving us a bit of slightly unlicensed practicing of medicine.  Whatever, we give him unlicensed law advice (SHHHHHH).
  • He can be unimaginative in the bedroom but he is really good at the basics so….not necessary an issue
    The sex is good. That’s the bottom line.  But some of us (*cough* Charlotte) itch for a bit more playing in the bedroom.  However, he has said he’s open to direction.  We’re just not wired to direct.
  • He doesn’t like talking about his issues, especially if related to depression or finances.
    Neither do we. We both bitch about how the other won’t confide about these problems to each other. Bwahahahaha.
  • He can be really awkward socially, since he really only enjoys two or three topics and can be a pushy know-it-all about those topics.
    It can get bad with certain friends and family.  But he’s gotten better at noticing my uncomfortable and pissed-off cues and will then try to rein himself back on being a know-it-all prick.
  • He’s so very good at getting us to feel good about ourselves, especially physically.
    However, this only lasts about a day after we see him at the most.  And we don’t see him often. 

_________________________________

So there we go.  That’s as unbiased as I can get.  I don’t particularly dislike the man. But I suppose there are relationship flaws.

Not sure if the good outweighs the bad.

This is just my take on things.

Nothing less. Nothing more.

Jewelry making

For the first time in months, I’m getting back into jewelry making. We all thought it might be nice to make a birthday gift for our coworker who has been our mentor and support since we started at this company.

Well, actually a couple weeks after we started. We found her very intimidating at first, haha.

Below are some pictures of my work station and the rose necklace I ended up making.

I apologize for the low resolution- my tablet doesn’t handle groups of tiny objects well.

image

 

This one came out better

 

Ephedrine is Magic

I shouldn’t take ephedrine.

It raises my normally high blood pressure to scary amounts.

However, as Shadow Dragon has mentioned in previous posts of her’s, I have been very very sick for going on about 3 weeks now.  I’m tired of it.  I’ve missed way too much work, I haven’t been able to be social much at all, I’ve been a terrible doggy-mommy to Zoe.

It got to a point Monday where I just couldn’t handle it anymore.  Fortunately, I also saw Army on Monday and he was nice enough to give me some of his “wonder drugs” he keeps on hand.  No worries, they aren’t illegal, and they’re technically over the counter.  They’re just restricted.

Because they have ephedrine.  Which if you didn’t know, can be used to make meth.

Basically it’s Speed in simple pill form.

I took some Monday and felt fantastic.  I skipped yesterday because I don’t want to die of a stroke or kidney failure.  Then yesterday I felt awful, threw up a couple times, had a headache (and had some emotional/friends crap I soooooo didn’t need to deal with, but that’s not something I really want to talk about), so it was a disaster anyway.  So today I took another dose.

I am freakin’ Wonder Woman.  Yes. I feel like I can do fucking anything right now.  I could stop a speeding train with the flick of my wrist.

Ok, maybe not.

But I can multitask at work without dying and pretend to be friendly towards my coworkers.  And that’s a big step forward.

Ephedrine is magic.

Itchy

Forgot codeine makes me so effin itchy.

Shoulda taken the vicodin.

But needed something to make the others calm their shit down. Way too rough and switchy of a night. Hell, weekend.

Kit cannot keep this shit together like she used too.

Something needs to change. I’m going to run out of pills if I have to keep self-medicating at this rate.

We need to take stock and figure out our options. In the morning. Right now, we all need to sleep.

If I could just stop feeling so damn itchy!

Boy with the Purple Socks

“Sometimes you have to lie. But to yourself you must always tell the truth.”
-Ole Golly in “Harriet the Spy” by Louise Fitzhugh
______________________________________________________________________

Today on my drive to work, I saw a young man driving around downtown on a chic, slick moped.  He was dressed in a business suit and I wondered about the wind blowing dirt onto his suit jacket.

He was smiling.

And when I glanced down towards his feet I saw that above his black shiny professional loafers, he wore bright purple socks.

_______________________________________________________________________

I loved “Harriet the Spy” when it first came out.  I loved the idea of being able to hide and watch what everyone else did without them seeing.

Spying seemed like the perfect survival tool.

I started my own notebooks, it was completely goofy I know.  I was jealous of Harriet’s other tools; the vintage binoculars, the rotating flashlight, that yellow rain slicker.

But it was the boy in the purple socks that always had me fascinated.  Who was this boy? Why did he never talk? Why did he wear purple socks? In the movie, it’s never really revealed, although in the book he explains that his mother wanted him to dress in all purple to stand out, but he talked her down to just the socks.

And yet he stands out anyway.  To me at least.

Before I read the book (one of the few book-to-movie renditions where I saw the movie first) I used to theorized all sorts of things about the boy in purple socks.

Sometimes I wondered if he was like me.  He didn’t really want any attention, but he didn’t want to be invisible.  So he compromised.  No talking, but wear purple socks.  I wondered how else he could be like me.

And today I wondered about a businessman who would drive a moped and wear purple socks.  It seemed exactly what the boy would grow up and do.

Cramps

(apologies in advance for any male readers we may have)

For some reason I’m experiencing the worse cramps ever right now.  It doesn’t really make any sense because I had my period recently, so there’s no way I’m due. And the only time I’ve ever gotten cramps is the first day or two of my cycle.

Shadow Dragon (my roommate) did point out the fact that I’m living with her now, so it could be the whole “syncing cycles” thing (which I always found really creepy and freaky).  However, I’ve never had that happen to me before.  Not even when I lived with my girlfriend for 5 years.  I mean, we’d have our cycles rather close together, but I never had my body “re-align” or whatever.

It didn’t do that for my mom, when I lived with her after being hospitalized, didn’t happen when I stayed with a female friend of mine for a bit.

So I’m back to wondering. Maybe it’s stress or something.

All I know is it effin’ hurts. Like a bitch.

Fiona Apple

I was actually exposed to Fiona Apple in a weird way.

I thought she sang the song “Ugly Girl”; a guilty pleasure of mine that I associated with an ex, and him dumping us for someone supposedly not as pretty (according to others- we never trust our own opinion on what is beauty).

I already purchased a couple of her albums before I realized that the song “Ugly Gil” is in fact sung by Fleming and John (if you Google the song though, a LOT of people think it’s Fiona Apple).

Too late. I was addicted to the haunting melody and husky sort of voice quality that Ms. Apple has.

Today one of my favorites, “Paper Bag”, came on our iPod while driving to work.  I was technically out, but the lyrics of the song struck everyone pretty personally.

I thought it might be nice to share it.  Plus, everyone should check her out anyway.
__________________________________________________________

Paper Bag

I was staring at the sky, just looking for a star
To pray on, or wish on, or something like that
I was having a sweet fix of a daydream of a boy
Whose reality I knew, was a hopeless to be had

But then the dove of hope began its downward slope
And I believed for a moment that my chances
Were approaching to be grabbed
But as it came down near, so did a weary tear
I thought it was a bird, but it was just a paper bag

Hunger hurts, and I want him so bad, oh it kills
‘Cause I know I’m a mess he don’t wanna clean up
I got to fold ’cause these hands are too shaky to hold
Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love

And I went crazy again today, looking for a strand to climb
Looking for a little hope
Baby said he couldn’t stay, wouldn’t put his lips to mine,
And a fail to kiss is a fail to cope
I said, ‘Honey, I don’t feel so good, don’t feel justified”
“Come on put a little love here in my void,’ he said, ‘It’s all in your head’
And I said, ‘So’s everything’
But he didn’t get it

I thought he was a man
But he was just a little boy

Hunger hurts, and I want him so bad, oh it kills
‘Cause I know I’m a mess he don’t wanna clean up
I got to fold ’cause these hands are too shaky to hold
Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love
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