Goodbye To You

"Goodbye To You"

Of all the things I've believed in
I just want to get it over with
Tears form behind my eyes
But I do not cry
Counting the days that pass me by

I've been searching deep down in my soul
Words that I'm hearing are starting to get old
It feels like I'm starting all over again
The last three years were just pretend
And I said,

Goodbye to you
Goodbye to everything I thought I knew
You were the one I loved
The one thing that I tried to hold on to
The one thing that I tried to hold on to

I still get lost in your eyes
And it seems that I can't live a day without you
Closing my eyes and you chase my thoughts away
To a place where I am blinded by the light
But it's not right

[Chorus]

And it hurts to want everything and nothing at the same time
I want what's yours and I want what's mine
I want you
But I'm not giving in this time

[Chorus x2]

And when the stars fall
I will lie awake
*You're my shooting star*

Goodbye and Goodnight Little Idiotic Life. <3 I am indebted to you and my readers.

See you on the otherside. I'll miss you.

Frozen

I can't feel my senses
I just feel the cold
All colors seem to fade away
I can't reach my soul
I would stop running
If i knew there - was a chance
It tears me apart
to sacrifice it all
but I'm forced to let go

They tell me I'm frozen
But what can I do?
Can't say the reasons-
I did it for you
When lies turn into truth
I sacrificed for you
They say that I'm frozen
But what can I do?

I can feel your sorrow
(sacrifice)
You won't forgive me
(I'll take it as a sign)
but I know you'll be all right
It tears me apart
that you will never know
but I have to let go

They tell me I'm frozen
But what can I do?
Can't say the reasons-
I did it for you
When lies turn into truth
I sacrificed for you
You say that I'm frozen
But what can I do?

Everything will slip away
Shattered peaces will remain
When memories fade into emptiness
Only time will tell its tale
If it all has been in vain

I can't feel my senses
I just feel the cold
Frozen...
But what can I do?
Frozen...

They tell me I'm frozen
But what can I do?
Can't say the reasons-
I did it for you
When lies turn into truth
I sacrificed for you
You say that I'm frozen
But what can I do?

Are You With Me?

Laughing like we're crazy
Nothing mattered, nothing fazed me
We were younger then
So much younger then

Everything seems rotten
Through the eyes of the forgotten
We were dumber then
So much dumber then

Well have I judged a book by how it's bound?
Am I lost or am I found?
And are you with me?

Are you with me now?
Come back from the dead
You've been inside your head
For too long
Are you with me now?
Find the places that scare you
Come on I dare you
Are you with me?

Are you with me?

The years have took their toll
And all the things I can't contol
Come back to haunt me now
Almost taunt me now
What's left to be afraid of?
I found out what I was made of
And I've come this far
But we both have the scars

Well have I judged a book by how it's bound?
Am I lost or am I found?
And are you with me?

Are you with me now?
Come back from the dead
You've been inside your head
For too long
Are you with me now?
Find the places that scare you
Come on I dare you
Are you with me?

Are you with me?
Are you with me?
Are you with me?

Well have I judged a book by how it's bound?
Am I lost or am I found?
And are you with me?

Are you with me now?
Come back from the dead,
You've been inside your head
For too long
Are you with me now?
Find the places that scare you
Come on I dare you
Are you with me?

Drunk

Drunk.

Yes, drunk drunk drunk.

Whatever.

California had a few moments. They were lovely. And a lot not.

Bah. Humbug.

Had fun moments with my friends tonight. Drowned my troubles in vodka (as usual.)

Put the old ring on my finger. Reminisced about times I was someone people wanted.

Have to go to my therapist tomorrow. Maybe that's why I'm writing drunk. Not sure exactly what to say... Kinda fell apart last time. Exposed more than ever about my past... Now that the withdrawl is (mostly) under control I probably can keep it in check. ((Spirit First))

Making new friends is great. The fucking cold I picked up in Cali? Killed me for a few days. I'm still sick. This is me teaching myself how to fight through immune problems. Meh. It still sucks.

Positivity to come tomorrow. Seriously. I'm not down tonight, I just forgot what it is I wanted to say on the positive end of things. I'll write more when I figure it out. Muah!

Medication woes

I distinctly remember writing an entry about the hell that has been my life the last week. I guess I deleted it. Probably for the best. I wasn't in my right mind. I remember thinking the entry didn't make much sense.

I was withdrawing like a motherfucker. I tried to go cold turkey off the Xanax. Uuuh, yeah apparently that's a bad idea. I was in a constant 24 hour a day panic attack, not to mention the hot and cold, and zero concentration. Plus my sleep was just a mess. I was feeling suicidal which apparently is a side effect as well. This went on for SEVEN DAYS. Til today actually. I even had the flu-like symptoms on occasion junkies have. That was a first.

Now, to add insult to injury I went to see my sleep doctor to ask him to help me ween off of it properly. I have to be in California Monday and I wasn't going if I continued to feel that way. Dr Green said he didn't feel comfortable treating my anxiety, since that wasn't his job. Then sent me on my way and said I was my primary care physicians problem now. I couldn't believe it. I was devestated. I was panicked. I called and made an apt the next day for a doctor, since my primary care doc is on maternity leave. I knew I was rolling the dice big time.

But Dr. Marshall listened patiently, actually EXPRESSED SYMPATHY and said that she had trouble sleeping too and knows how hard it makes life. Then she not only gave me a smaller dose of Xanax, but something to treat anxiety long term, and another non-addictive sleep med. Since my whole goal in starting this experiment was to be off Xanax and Ambien forever. I just realize now I can't cut it cold turkey like I did with cigs and any other drug. I thought I was strong enough... But apparently this had a greater hold than I had assessed.

My room mate Tyler and I have really been bonding. It's been nice to have someone to hang with when I'm up for it.
The other night we shared a bottle of wine and stayed up talking until like, 8am. He told me a lot of really personal stuff and I have to say it's the first conversation like that I've had in awhile. It was nice. Just... Talking. I mean, obviously it's not going anywhere. Tyler's wife Steph is amazing and I respect them both and their relationship. It's just a relief to know I can still can connect with someone on a more personal level then just the surface stuff I only allow these days.
Plus, I confided in him about what was really going on with the withdrawl and he gave me some muscle relaxers which greatly assisted in one nights sleep. I mean, he genuinely wanted to help me. Take care of me almost. Said he admired what I was doing even though it was nuts, hehe. It's rare I've ever seen such compassion from a man. He's got a good heart. I really lucked out finding this place.

The downside besides the really sick I was feeling was not getting much work done the last week. I have a lot of emails I have to reply to and I need to make some calls tonight to make sure all my bands I've booked for the week I'm gone are set, since I wont be there to oversee anything or run PAs. Then I gotta send out emails for the June shows. And get a hard confirm about the date for Travis. Bleh. It piles up when you take the time off.

Anyway... I'm finally looking forward to LA. :) Bought the latest Boomkat album and am enjoying it immensly.

And am just really glad for this moment I'm calm and back to me. Let's hope the actual ween down works better than my stupid-ass plan of just quitting. One step closer to being the healthier me I want to be.

Sincerely, K

I built this house
but it fell down
before I got one night of sleep
So how does that beat all the fools who never tried?
They missed the moon
in rented rooms,
traded stories over food
I worked alone,
broke my bones
with all my pride
I desired royal attire,
so I acquired the emperor's skin
held a parade & begged the world to look inside-
I wanted fame, 'cause I thought fame could prove to me
that I was great
it never came;
I was a failure to myself
It's the way of the world to swallow you alive
The way of the world to swallow you alive

Spirit first.

It's been so long
singing songs
I couldn't possibly still mean
i guess they're lies
if they've lost the truth they had
and it's so hard to get well,
writing postcards home from Hell
I'd rather pack; I'd rather leave this all...
It's the way of the world to swallow you alive
the way of the world to swallow you alive

Spirit first.

Whoa, Whoa, I give up
Whoa, Whoa, I give up Ooo - ooooh
I give up.

You get one life, and I spend mine
chasing highways made of ghosts
now I don't know the way home from where I stand
And I believed I was free,
til I forgot what I believed
now I don't even need chains to hold me down...

- - - Sincerely, K

Bad food

I'm writing you at a sensible 6pm, instead of my usual 2am-6am time frame.

I'm writing because I am EXCITED to go to the Central tonight. Excited to dress up, listen to some good rock, and hang out.

I'm excited to meet new people. I'm excited to live. I expect I'll have fun.

But, my last blood results are STILL being processed. I can't imagine this is a good sign.

I've also been doing research not on how to lengthen my time, but on how to feel better in general. As it turns out... I eat EVERY WRONG FOOD for Lupus apparently. Ha! I guess the MSG in soy sauce for sushi activates an enzyme in my stomach that MAKES MY STOMACH SICK. If this is the cause for my nausea I'm gunna be so pissed. (And still eat it, but less often.) Also POTATOES are really bad.
Oh man, as I was reading this my heart kept sinking. Liquor is five ways from fucked. (Ok, I cut back in October, and fluctuate in my drinking patterns now, but I guess I'm gunna cut back again after the weekend, and keep my solo wine nights at bay for awhile and see how it helps.) Cheese is bad, and red meat is actually GOOD, but it has to be lean and in moderation.

One positive thing: No alfalfa sprouts. Heh. That's cool I don't eat those anyway.

Anyway, I have to eat carbs because carbs make things easier to process on my kidneys. I suppose that's exciting. Maybe I can still eat rice haha. Mmm... Maybe I should find some teriyaki.
And as I'm typing that out I'm thinking to myself doesn't teriyaki sauce contain soy sauce plus a few things? ISN'T THAT FIRST THING I JUST WROTE?

Man I suck at this game. :)

Guess I'll stick to pasta.

Anyway, another open mic Tuesday. My last one til I get back from exciting LA. :D Maybe I'll finish up the new song by then. I still need a real idea, and not just scratch lyrics.

Blah, blah, blah. :) Time to start my run. Then shower. Then off to rock! Looks like Abi and Gavin are coming- as is my new friend Lars from LA aka Dj Introcut. That may turn out to be a fruitful contact not just for LA, but he's also starting his own business and he spins trance. He also spins at the Merc on occasion.
My bestie Jay is heading out too, after he finishes with the underground tour.

Peeeeeeace.

Different Thought

I want to add in a completely different thought that:

If you read my poem, and it disturbed you- I was going through a rough patch in the stages of dealing with everything.

I'm on my own, in a new place, working by myself, and my stable rotation of friends seems to be changing a bit because people are getting into relationships all around me. It leads me to fall back on myself in moments of weakness...

And we all know I blog more in moments of weakness because writing out my thoughts is therapy for me. I never found a better way to self soothe. Perhaps I'll ask Joanne about that next time I'm there.

Anyway- my new place is amazing, I'm adjusting, but I'm not sleeping well at all even with the pills (both Xanax, and ambien.) However, I absolutely ADORE my new roomates and the set up we have.

I'm stoked to be going to California, the details have been arranged and set in motion. (Business contacts! Cross your fingers for me!)

I ate some amazing Greek food last night, and threw a party at my place that ran til 4am yesterday.

The band I manage is holding their second cd release at the High Dive in June, and now that we have that set in place I'll be working on setting up their northern tour for Summer. I guess I get to find out what kind of a negotiator I can be. Last night's party was sort of a listening party, and I got some great feedback. :) I'm excited for this part, as I've never done it before. I imagine, like the rest, I'll find it exciting and new, and manage somehow.

Still have 3 dates left to book at different venues for April, even though I won't be able to oversee a week's worth of them.

I started writing a new song yesterday, and something came through that hasn't really happened for me ever: my dark chords in my verses turn downright positive in the choruses. I want to write of something other than heartache. I'm tired of doing the same old thing. (Thanks to one of my Pig N Whistle family members for being able to open my eyes to some things.)

And, weirdly, I'm drinking a Merlot tonight instead of a Reisling.

Anyway. That's it. Going back to my littile idiotic life. :)

S.L.A.A

It's hard to imagine love being a disease, but in essence, it can be.

An aquaintence of mine began waxing on the reasons he's remaining celibate through April. Frankly at first I was curious as to why this person was revealing all of, what you assume to be private information. But as his (long winded) conversation rolled on he continually used the phrases "do you understand what I'm saying?" and "that's not crazy, right?"
I obliged, but realized what he was seeking from me was validation, almost like he wanted my permission his actions were ok. Why did he care about my opinion so already?
About thirty minutes into his almost one sided chat I started paying attention and realized what I was speaking to was another un-self aware sex addict. Now, I don't have his sexual history to go off of, but his reasons, his need to explain his actions and seek understanding and approval, and his main excuse of "work is stressful and I take it out in my sex life and it increasingly has bad consequences" were all code for: Do I need to get help, or is my celebacy going to be enough?

I guess sometimes when your shit gets so bad, you are willing to share it with an almost total stranger. So I listened, I got irritated, then I listened harder. When he finally more or less asked me what I thought he should do, or if his fast was wise, I told him that the celebacy without realizing the behavior for why he was becoming celebate to begin with was useless. He needed real time for self reflection, therapy, and likely meetings. He asked if I'd ever attended and I told him I had.
I gave him the very basics (as I'm not willing to share all the details with anyone at this point) as to how I decided I should try it, what I got out of it, how long I went for and why I stopped. I think more than anything he was relieved to hear someone say "you're not crazy."
I think my letting him ramble was simply something he needed, and others had either dismissed the conversation (likely his "bros") or shushed him so he never got the validation he was seeking.

I guess the only real thing I took away from the meetings was that I did in fact have a problem with love, which translated into a problem with sex. But when I realized I couldn't get anything more sitting around in that enviornment, hashing out the beginnings of a fledgling understanding, I opted to stop.
When my relationship ended I went into full on withdrawls.
Ha.
It seems so stupid, really.

I did everything I could to make "my drug" feel it was ok to stay in touch, because even if I couldn't have him in an intimate sense anymore, going cold turkey off of something that intense is pure, unadulterated torture.
And so I fell. I fell for a long time...

I fell into a few desperate phonecalls. I fell into a complete nervous system failure that led my lupus to flare up, which landed me in the hospital. I went home and fell into a person I no longer knew. I didn't think there was anything worse. In fact, I knew there wasn't. I had made myself sick. I do not blame anyone but myself. I want to make that perfectly clear.

My next phonecall was for help. 2 weeks later I was sitting on a couch telling someone and an intern my life story, and how my ass had landed on that couch to begin with. As in 95% of women in recovery, part of my story began with sexual abuse. Eventually the intern excused herself as I watched tears well in her eyes listening to my story. I wondered how fucked up I really was. I wondered if there really any help anyone could offer, or if I would end up another statistic. I wondered how long it would be until I would feel like myself again.

Meanwhile I found my next "fixation." Dating was not on my agenda, nor was having any physical connection of any kind with anyone. I knew it could easily make me sick, or draw out my old demons, and in fact, it eventually did. But luckily(sarcastically) he was a predator. Another addict. He was self aware. He was also a complete asshole. Even though he knew what he was capable of, he was not remorseful, nor did he want help. Eventually he ended our friendship with the words "I think you're just too nice for me."

Point in fact, I definetely was.

I was sickened at the fact he had drawn me in so quickly. Was that something I did too? Did he see too much of himself in me? Longing for that connection? Wanting to confirm that connection in the most basic ways?
By stopping the train early, by knowing now how easily a train like that could break me, I had learned something. I began to realize I was learning quickly.

Therapy became my meeting, only in these meetings I had feedback. I was taught the beginnings of making boundaries. The boundaries that had never been set in motion, not because I didn't respect myself enough, but because I was afraid having boundaries would make people leave me.

Then she said the thing that resonates with me, I may never forget: "If everyone leaves anyway, why not tell them exactly how you feel?"
As in maybe my not having boundaries made it easy for me to be walked on. (Shit, yeah. I know I've been a doormat. I KNOW it's not sexy. I didn't know how to change it.)
People leave people they don't respect. My niceness in an effort to never hurt anyone, lest they pushed away sooner, was in my way.

So I began to slowly change my behaviors, and try out this new approach. I wasn't crazy about it. Some people in my life went away. People that were used to the old me.

I focused on creating what is now "Sparrow Music." When I would meet people it was solely for business contacts. It made things clear in my mind, and I needed clear.

When someone would cross my path that sparked an interest I began a real, serious assesment of whether or not that person would be good for me. I always landed on the answer 'no' and moved on. I refused to become attached.

Even though I doubt I will ever fully be able to kick the habit, as love is such a crazy amazing feeling when everything is going right, I am able to follow my brain down that path now, and not my heart, my addiction, or lust. It doesn't mean I have to abstain forever. It just means for now, I'm either not ready or I am finally learning quickly what things will be more healthy in a relationship for me. I am also following the rules that are the groundwork for finding people that aren't that interested in me... And not getting attached, and moving on, back to work, and back to my life.

I don't think anyone who hasn't been through the horror of sexual abuse can fully understand what it does to a female (or in the asshole's case, a male- let me clarify while I empathize, I do not condone he continues with the behavior created, and I hope for his sake and anyone who crosses his path that he eventually gets some fucking therapy).
But while the damage is done, and getting people to understand and accept my shit is an uphill battle, I hope someday that there is someone out there for me who will love all of me, even the broken parts. Who can listen to me talk, pull the hair from my face and look me in the eyes as I divulge my most secret self, and accept that while love can be dangerous, I am willing to take that chance on him.
It doesn't always have to be romanticide. I just have to make some behavioral adjustments, admit to myself honestly whether what I'm doing is addictive behavior, and take action in either direction. (Though the leaving may be painful, and seemingly impossible, I have to keep my network of friends strong, and my work to fall back on.)

I hope my aquaintence finds exactly what he's looking for, but he's going to have to admit to himself what that is first.

I hope I find what I'm looking for too, but only when I'm ready enough to hold onto it. When it's meant to be. When the universe finally gives my heart a safe place to rest for a time, and for the first time ever, it completely does.

GN Love

So...

I moved. :D

And my new place is amazing. Separate entrance. 2 years old.
And, as a cruel joke, I met the perfect third for Johnny and I tonight. Abi. She's beautiful. She's not tall blond or skinny, but she is average height, beautiful build, and gorgeous face. I know Johnny would have dug her. Seriously. As far as *that* was concerned. Damn, sometimes you wish you could just offer shit. No strings attached.

Anyway, life is what it is.

Tomorrow I'm putting up black out shades. I have to go to Target to buy a large mirror, and I have my open mic. Abi's coming. I'm happy to be playing some tunes again. And in 3 weeks I should have a new tune. I'm working on a piano cover of 'Doll Parts' by Hole.

Anyway I'm SO HAPPY to be in my new place. My life so far is... Adventurous. Met the roomies, played some music, ventured to a fairly new spot. Worked a few good hours this morning, planned an bill for one of my bars for April. Rehearsed for my open mic tomorrow. Now I'm watching Dexter and getting ready for pills.

So far, so good.

Let's hope it doesn't change.

For now anyway.

I wish people could see me for who I am now.

Who is the girl watching Dexter and focusing on work tomorrow.

*yawns to you*

Gooodnight love

Complex ME

What are the symptoms of Complex PTSD?
The first requirement for the diagnosis is that the individual experienced a prolonged period (months to years) of total control by another. The other criteria are symptoms that tend to result from chronic victimization:

■Alterations in emotional regulation. May include persistent sadness, suicidal thoughts, explosive anger, or inhibited anger.
■Alterations in consciousness. Includes forgetting traumatic events, reliving traumatic events, or having episodes in which one feels detached from one's mental processes or body.
■Changes in self-perception. May include helplessness, shame, guilt, stigma, and a sense of being completely different from other human beings.
■Alterations in how the perpetrator is perceived. Examples include attributing total power to the perpetrator, becoming preoccupied with the relationship to the perpetrator, or preoccupied with revenge.
■Alterations in relations with others. Examples include isolation, distrust, or a repeated search for a rescuer.
■Changes in one's system of meanings. May include a loss of sustaining faith or a sense of hopelessness and despair.
What other difficulties do those with Complex PTSD tend to experience?
■Survivors may avoid thinking and talking about trauma-related topics because the feelings associated with the trauma are often overwhelming.
■Survivors may use alcohol and substance abuse as a way to avoid and numb feelings and thoughts related to the trauma.
■Survivors may also engage in self-mutilation and other forms of self-harm.
Blaming the victim
A person who has been abused repeatedly is sometimes mistaken as someone who has a "weak character." They have been misdiagnosed by mental health providers as having Borderline, Dependent, or Masochistic Personality Disorder. Survivors have been unjustly blamed for the symptoms they experience as a result of victimization. Researchers hope that a new diagnosis will prevent clinicians, the public, and those who suffer from trauma from mistakenly blaming survivors for their symptoms.

Summary
The current PTSD diagnosis often does not capture the severe psychological harm that occurs with prolonged, repeated trauma. For example, long-term trauma may affect a healthy person's self-concept and adaptation. The symptoms of such prolonged trauma have been mistaken for character weakness.

I'm not weak. I'm not without. I was misdiagnosed. I am trying to be better than what happpened to me. I'm trying to move on. I *do* need someone to understand, but I don't think anyone really gets it right now. Maybe they see it, but understanding what happened and why I am what I am, is hard now. I've gone into an isolated state.

I hope hope hope when Monday rolls around, I'm willing to reconnect because I'll be in a new place, and by Tuesday I'll be back to normal for my next open mic.

I'm going back to California in April I've decided. I'm gunna take the 18-25th off.

I also went on a date last Thursday which was good, because it was a benefit I was participating in. I invited a guy called Bret to come along and we had a lot of good conversations. He's extremely liberal which is something I am toally about. I donated $30 and PAWS made over $500 that night. I was very proud. He donated money himself and was attentive all night. Overall it was a good time. I don't know how much potential we have exactly, but it was nice to go out again. I hope I can see him again next week sometime after Wednesday, when everything calms down and I can make a real assesment. Not just of me and getting back to me, but of him and seeing if we're on the same page.

I texted Johnny about giving his stuff and getting my microwave back, but he is being illusive. I guess I'll just take it for what it is. I really wish we could be ammicable. (As in amiche the word for friendly in Italian. Perhaps a more literal definition.)

I'm counting down the days til I am finallly in my beautiful new townhouse. Finally a new chapter. Finally some closure in the best sense that started last year in March when I moved to the U Dist. Finally I start with a new diagnosis and CBT. Finally...
And maybe I'm wishing too much.

But tonight the Reisling was good and the day was spent watching tv and playing video games.
Tomorrow I'm scouting a show at El Corazon. Sunday I move.

It's random, but here's another entry. I will write again soon.

<3

Until next time

Hey

If you think you know me-
You think you care-
You'd know my next move
Like a chess master, predicting me 6 moves ahead.
I'm not like that.
I'm 6 months anywhere.
And now, it's not even 6 months.
Cuz, you know, who knows?
I've dumped everything I wouldn't want anyone to deal with.
I'm giving back all I have of others
(anybody)
And I'm retreating to a place with my own entrance.
My space, as I call it.
No one's.
Just me again, in some words.
For peace.
For a place I can seek all I want from any
prying eyes.
Prying opinions.
Prying concern most of all.

If I thought anyone could understand I would let them.
But I cut my world to the quick.
If you don't know on Sunday where I am-
The likelihood you will is slim.
Why bother with the formalities?
I am me. You are you.
Our lives are seperate planes now.
Everybody loves me
(I get it)
But they have moved on.
And I can not, becuz it is not fair for anyone involved now.
Yes, maybe I liked you.
But liking leads not to love, nor any REAL sentimental attachment.
In fact, I feel the opposite.
Fuck you.

Getting to know me takes more than a few lines from
Some fucked up poem.
Some train or river of thought.
You must know more about why I retreat
Then about my love of dogs, or sushi, or music.
I'm not sure whether my heart is healing or breaking but either way
PROGRESS.
I have loved so many, so deeply.
But I have claimed a spot in the lonely hearts club for life-
Because even as I give every part of my being to another
They can not feel the same.
It appears all a game.

The truth, the REAL truth is only music saves.
And as I lay on that bed
with the needles and the drip
I don't care
Because music goes on forever.
and something in that is how I found my way back the first time.

I reassure my father "you'll know where I am when the time comes"
He becomes so confused.
He signs the check from my account without the real knowledge of where I am just yet.
He has other worries
And again I push, why bother?
I promise him it's beautiful. He'd be happy.
Someday, likely in weeks, when I'm ready he'll know.
But the reason for this secret
Is becuz people can't be trusted, and I can not hurt my Dad.

So here I am. Writing this stupid entry, in my little idiotic life.

And the next chapter is bigger, less expensive and only until August. We can see how my blood is then. Let's not get too excited or in over our heads. But for now this is enough for me.

I'm too tired to write anything else tonight, cryptic or otherwise.

I love you so. I miss you. As always, I feel.

Until next time...

Tenuous

A single moment
Before the call that drew you to the sea
A single fragment
Of a loss that's buried deep in memory

In stillness, no comfort
In silence, awash in fervent dreams
In stillness, I see you
Returning back to me

A shrouded echo
Resounding waves that fall apon the shore
I feel you moving
To a place where I shall see you nevermore

Pain, work, goodbyes, longing, peace, and me

Today was a really hard pain day. The codeine didn't touch it, so I had to take the vicodin. There were a few tears. I'm not sure if they were from the pain, or the emotions surrounding the pain.

I've been told that it might be good to start writing some goodbye letters. Letters that I'd never send out, but that say everything to that person I'd want to say. That perhaps this is a step towards closure. I think they want me to do it for a couple different reasons.
I guess I never realized how many people that truly meant something to me I've had to say goodbye to. That I can not contact, will not contact me, or died.
Sometimes the world is so fucking big. Sometimes, I feel like I know everyone in Seattle, even if it's by proxy. But I feel small myself right now. I guess because I'm feeling vulnerable.
Anyway, the goodbye letters are going to take some time to write. The hardest ones will be to my past loves. And to the future one I may never know.

Sarah and Bob are doing well. Surprisingly it hasn't really changed how much Sar and I hang out which I'm thankful for. Sar is my constant right now. Debbie and I grow apart, mostly on my accord I guess. I'm tired of playing her games and shit. They just wear me out. I miss my Wayne terribly. He crossed my mind for awhile today for the first time in awhile. Ironically he called me tonight. I didn't answer. I didn't want him to hear me weak.

My other "friends" are the people I'm working with now, rotating around. The other musicians and bar owners and other bookers. The people at their shows. I'm officially the de-facto manager of a local band here now, and I've been doing a lot of reading and research. We are meeting weekly or bi-weekly to make a game plan. We're coming up with tasks every week we need to accomplish before their second cd release in June. I'm still trying to network like crazy of course, because the saying is true, it is partly about who you know. I want the boys to get out there and make new friends, and I want to try and get them playing at a college frat party. I want to develop their stage show a bit, but these aren't the steps we're on yet. I won't outline everything here, but it's a big job and we're hitting the ground running.

Meanwhile my own personal music I'm still writing, but the solo shit has been stalled. Understandably. I'm getting ready to move again, and my health has come first, when I'm not working. I have come up with a good new rock song called "We Only Love What Kills Us" and I'm excited about it. There are other ideas and concepts but for now, that has the most promise.

The meds I'm on are making me gain weight which blooooooows. As soon as the rain quits I'm gunna start running again. I've already started to change my diet, but man have I been up and down the last few months.

Anyway, all the writing til now I confess was just an excuse. I really wanted to write about Johnny again. I was going through my camera and saw some of the pictures I took of him back around this time last year. When I feel I was happiest with him. (April-ish) and got incredibly nostalgic. He really is an amazing guy. He always knew how to make me laugh. I do still miss him quite a lot. It's not that I can't let go either, but there isn't any closure for me there.
Anyway I loved him for many reasons. And I was angry when I wrote the last blog about him not caring. Maybe he does care, but is holding back or something. Maybe I'm not giving him enough credit.

The person I am now, versus the person I was even 8 months ago is ridiculously different. I mean, I'm still me, but I *feel* different. For the first time ever. I can't explain it, but everybody says so.
I'm acting different. I'm not actively seeking love (perhaps a good step in the addiction process) and I spend all my time putting my efforts into something I hope one day to really make something of. Almost to the point I get burned out, but not quite. When I feel it happening I do something else.

Anyway, I wish Johnny had known this Kate. She's still fun, but more focused. She has her own life/work now versus just playing music. The time I'd need now is less, because I'm more comfortable with the network of friends I have and want and need time with them. Perhaps I'd even be able to explain myself better to him.
Unfortunately, I'm still a romantic though and I do gestures. It just turns out that friends appreciate them too. I bought Sarah some sushi and a cd with our song on it when she was having a shitty day. I took Jay out to the last good show, and insisted he come with me to the next show I'm STOKED for at El Corazon. I avoid ambien at night altogether now. I limit my drinking more, and I rarely get the urge to self destruct. Hasn't happened in months anyway.

I am also happy to announce that The BPD Diagnosis I was once saddled with and felt so... at war with... has been labeled as a misdiagnosis. Which means I'm not as fucked up as they once thought, or I once was. I'm less ashamed to tell people I have complex PTSD because that means it's not so much about me, but about what happened to me and how I internalized it. I apparently turn out better than a lot of cases. Of course, as always, I am a work in progress. But I'm thankful to be working on it. Because that means there are ways of continuing to get better there. I just hope that whatever they find in my blood allows me a chance for more practice. Of course, just living means there is a chance something could happen that makes me worse, too. That's part of the complex thing I guess.

My open mic was packed last night. I was so happy to see the place full. It's the best it's been yet. But with all the talking I'd done that day I went hoarse. Didn't care. Still had fun. Besides my band coming out Mary, Meggie, and Jeff were all there as were my bar staff family.

Listening to a lot of Levi Weaver lately again. Been emailing him more often. He really is such an incredible man. His music touches me so. He finally got the second full cd out. It's great. I just bought his first E.P finally. Should've done it years ago.

I am alone tonight again, but for one of the very few times ever I'm not really uncomfortable with it. The pain has died down just enough to sleep, so I'm off to do just that. And feel this longing in my heart for my memories with mr blue eyes, but to be simply ok with that too, rather than desperate and lost.

I hope you find yourself some peace tonight as well dear reader.

Sick, But Healing

Health update: Oh boy!

Spent all day at the hospital yesterday! Yay! Talked to a NEW physician. Which was part of the problem. Had tests, got questioned. Felt sick.
I can feel the very sick coming on again.
They will call me with results again next week, they think.

We are, at this point hoping that there have been no real complications, though there have likely been some in my kidneys. Also in my nervous system. The kidney thing is likely just an infection that my body is having trouble fighting off. (Don't care, still hurts and I'm now out of pain meds for 6 days.) And the CNS stuff... I'm back to having some intense headaches. Plus the shaking, slash dropping thing thing is awesome.

I do however have Bob in my life, who has been an incredible friend to me. Last night after everything he came over and we just laid on the bed, mostly entwined simply talking about our lives. I asked about his health, he asked about mine. We shared secrets. It was absolutely perfect. It was SO GOOD to be held. To have someone attentive to what I needed, and I of course in turn attended to him. This is not a sexual relationship. But it has been making up for a lot of the kind of interaction I wish I'd had with someone for a while now.
Not only that, but here's the kicker. When it was time for him to go: HE SAID HE DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE.
I have been waiting to hear that forever it feels. And I know he meant it.
It made me happy.

I have been evaluating why such a simple phrase could mean so much, and I think it comes down to my brain sort of reading it as 'I don't want to abandon you.'
It doesn't mean he won't. He obviously left. But it was reassuring. And I ate it up.
We talked for a few moments on the phone today, but I'm sick with my shit, plus Bob, Jay and I all have some kind of infection we picked up from Sarah's hospital visit.

So while this entry is shorter, I return to the hospital March 14th, and should get results before then. Meanwhile, it's nap time. Music will have to wait. As will the rest of what happened this crazy week.

I wish you the kind of healing you need tonight. It seems I'm finding a bit myself.

Solitary Stage

They've got some very valid questions
about my songs and my intentions
and the fact I've never settled down;
"isn't anybody wondering where you are?"
This is home: the stage, the States,
all I own in one suitcase
all the people that I've loved
left back in places I've called home
Let's play truth and consequences:
First the truth? I'm not that interested
I've been burned a couple times,
so now I'm the one who starts the fires
And I probably still believe in love;
the problem is, I just can't trust
So where does that leave us?
(Well) How about those consequences?
I've got this moat around my heart
chock full of mud and monsters
and my archers never sleep,
so use your powers of observation
this stage is more than just the lights and all the adulation:
it's the only place where I can be alone... without --- being alone.
This is home:
the stage,
the States
all I own in one suitcase
all the people that i've loved left back in places I've called home
Someday, I'll stop this war
Someday I'll fall in love,
and know what love is for...
but for tonight, I'll sell the box
and keep the contents under lock and key
and by the time you realize you've lost the game,
I'll be another several homes away,
up on some solitary stage alone again.

How To Save A Life

Not sure I'm up to writing, but you know, I guess there's always that try factor.

On Friday night I oversaw my first show at my bar. Completely me. I booked the bands. I did the P.A. I did well. Everyone was stoked. Happy. It was a good show. It was the first time I ever took serious pride in my work. EVER.

Fast forward, I djed a party later that night. Also went extremely well. The company that offered me the job has asked me back. I'm very happy to be back djing again. Even if it is some high kid coming up and saying "hey man, I love this song! I love you!" I still take some fucking pride in that.

Fast forward to Sunday night. I'm hanging out with my best friend Sarah and her new boyfriend Bob. Sarah, out of nowhere, goes into anaphalatic shock. In my arms. She stops breathing. I put her on the floor and immediately begin to do mouth to mouth and CPR. Bob, her boyfriend, frantic, dials 911. I'm turning her over and she coughs and vomits on the floor and continue to give her oxygen til the paramedics arrive.
When the paramedics arrive they give her a trachemotemy, and to which she begins a scream I will never forget. They rush her to the hospital. One pauses long enough to tell me if I hadn't done what I'd done she'd have brain damage at best. Likely, she would have died. Then they tell us to follow her to Greenwood hospital.

I held her hand until she opened her eyes. They had inserted a tube down her throat to help her breathe. Bob and I stayed until 6am when they kicked us out. Meanwhile, I'm continually calling her father and keeping him updated of her condition while he's back in Chicago. It wasn't looking good for a bit.
They removed her tube around ten am and we were allowed back a short time later.
Sarah recovered beautifully barring some scarring in her throat from the tube. She's home and well now.

Bob and I spent the night at his place clinging to each other for comfort. Praying all would turn out. We talked a lot. Bob, as it turns out, is quite an amazing man. I found myself seriously attracted to someone since everything ended in September with J. I don't know if it was the trauma that brought us together or what, but as it turns out there is no one else to speak to about something like this. No one can understand. I held Sarah's life in my fucking hands, and I had to make the decision to play God. I mean, like there's a choice right? I shoved that air down her throat and pumped her lungs til I was damn sure it was gunna be ok.

I almost lost my closest friend...

Anyway, since everything I've been deeply entrenched in a PTSD episode. I saw my therapist today as an emergency, and I see a new doctor monday to figure out meds to get me through this- but really what can you say? People are calling me a hero. I fucking hate it. Like what was my choice? To be an asshole? Of COURSE I sprang to action and made sure she was gunna be ok.

Outside of my wild, "life saving" weekend, I have waited with baited breath to see if karma would do me one. Just to have Johnny call. And, no big surprise here, no word what so ever.
Not only that but because I was in the hospital with Sar, I missed one of my appts. That doctor will no longer see me now. HA! Do something good, get fucked. You know? I never learn. My meds are running out quickly which means I have to go to the E.R

Oh, and as an update I can't do SHIT about what's going on with my body til March 14th. Turns out nobody cares about people on Medicaid. Big surprise here.

Believe it or not, though this entry sounds... whatever... I AM positive I can get the med sitch worked out on Monday SOMEHOW. And I am very, very glad I was with Sarah and she is alive.

Meanwhile... Johnny will not return emails, texts, or calls. I'm pretty sure he no longer gives a shit about me. As Joanna says "when they're done, they're done."

Guess then, it's officially time for me too, to go into the future and do as I should. From this point forward I assume he no longer reads, responds, or cares one way or the other about what happens to me. This makes me so incredibly sad- if you could feel it there would be a black hole. But I can never make someone care for me who can't. I really do fucking wish there had been a real chance for a goodbye. I've wracked my brain. I've worked on my career. I've stayed celibate and single hoping that it would make it easier to reconnnect with me when he wanted to come back. Now I can't believe he does.

It's not like there can be a worse fate for me than his silence. And that is all he gives. It breaks me. But even through his promises- I knew his past from his exs. I hoped to be different. I hoped that my love could be seen in any form. I see now that because of whatever romantic attachment he felt for me, he simply can't. More to the point, won't.
I ache when I pass his street. My heart skips when I hear his name. I want EVERY GOOD THING for him. But sometimes I pass his street on my way to gigs and see Amber's car there. I guess... Well, I guess tearing me down worked. And he couldn't see through what was really going on. His life went back to exactly the way it was. And I had to change everything about mine.

I'm back in the hospital in March. I'll keep you posted. All the fucking drama wears me out.

WORK MOTHERFUCKING BODY!!!! WORK!!!! Quit fucking around with me! Please! Give up on me, or give me some rest. I can't keep doing this.
I'm tired of living on pills. Day to day.
GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK.

I'm writing lyrics. I have melodies. Depending on "the band" I have my first solo (but with a live band) in April.

I'm too sore. Tired. Exhausted to write more.

I.Just.Cant.

Please forgive me. Dear Spirits, Please forgive me.

From Me

I went to the hospital on Thursday @10am. Turns out the person who is supposed to be doing my intake and keeping track of my shit quit uncerimoniously, so I have to go back in Monday morning to start over. Nobody even called to let me know. I thought that was kind of shitty, but whatever.

Meanwhile I've been working, and doing my share of thinking. A lot about love/dating, and a lot about life.

I'd go more into it, but I booked a show tonight I need to oversee in Everett. Then I'm checking out a new band, then hoping over to finish the night at the Merc. Haven't drank in days.
In other weird news I got a refill on my blessed apricot mistress, (aka Xanie) and it really worked yesterday. I slept for 12 hours, and woke up feeling healthier and happier in I can't remember how long. I'd kill to feel like that everyday.

I know what I am doing now is for my own good, and I'm keeping to my own newly imposed rules for my life.
I can't wait to have my room back when Ian leaves, surprisingly. Not that I want Ian to leave, but it will be nice to be able to shut myself in my room alone with my music and really let the weight of what's happening sink in. My life is changing, for better or for worse. My plans have been suspended. Now is a time for transformation and I can either adopt gracefully or be stubborn about it.

I remember what I felt like 6 months ago. I don't feel that anymore, but there is a profound sense of lonliness at times. I am sad that I can't talk to some of the people I used to rely on anymore. Especially my best friend from high school Bevin. I've been trying to reach her to no avail for at least 4 months now. I realize I may have started mourning that relationship. I can't make someone stay in my life. I just wish I understood what was going on.
I send out texts randomly to others to test the waters, usually to silence.
I wonder what I've done.
I want to make everything right, if it's even possible.
It makes me utterly thankful for the people I have in my life now that I realize are people that truly are there for me. I love this ragged band of characters more than I can possibly say. Soon, I think, everyone will know my truth.

Til then, this is an interlude. I have a crazy night ahead of me. I must sleep a little. I will write again soon.

From the bottom of my full heart. Some parts bruised, other parts healing, some remaining strong.

Bitch Session

I haven't responded to anybody I'm following in awhile. My apologies. There is a reason. I have been reading though.

Life has been busy and good, filled with music and work. My friend Ian is in town from SLC, sleeping on my floor. I've been showing him everything interesting I can think of. Keeps me away from my blog. I've been really meaning to write more.

Got a call on Thursday from the doctor though. They found abnormalities in my last blood test. I have to go to the hospital next week. Kinda shook me to my core. I'm taking the weekend to do shows, spend time with Ian and my other friends here before I have to go...

I guess Wed will be the big day. I gotta get through my open mic Tuesday. Everything else I can work around whatever my health needs. To be honest, I'm feeling off. Have been for a few weeks now. My kidneys have been hurting since about Wednesday.
I'm not complaining, I'm just aware whatever is going on is taking it's toll.
Surprisingly my pain has been down in general though, minus the kidneys until today.

My resolve to be a better person is still steadfast. I'm still on the path I'm supposed to be on I think.

I'm not worrying anybody at this point. My parents know, and Ian knows because he was here when the call came. But it affects how long he's here. It's not like this was the plan when I told him to come now. Shitty timing. This is part of the reason I haven't been dating.

I *have* been feeling more nostalgic though. I've been having dreams again fairly regularly, when I do manage to get to sleep.
This just leads me to say I miss him. I'm allowed. That's all I'm gunna say.

On a happy note the bookings have been going well. I'm keeping myself busy. I'm making more aquaintences and discovering good music. I can't believe how Involved I've managed to get into the rockabilly scene. Surprises me.

Anyway I had a lot more on my mind, but I'm tired. I'm so worn out these days. Leaving the bed to make food most of the time seems like a chore, so I kind of stopped eating again. Though it's likely realted in general to whatever is going on, it isn't like the last time I stopped eating- when I couldn't make myself. Now it's just so much fucking work.
I manage to get out to see the music, and give my life purpose, but even at that anything past midnight makes me long for the security of my bedroom.

I hope anyone reading is doing well. I will update this when I can. For now it's nap time I guess. I've been up since 6am. Gotta get an rx before 6pm.

I also hope this didn't turn into a giant bitch session. But very much love to you. You're in my thoughts. If I'm in yours I'm delighted.

<3

Growing pains

Fuuuuuuuck.

Another trial. Man. It seems I'm being tested for everything now that I've set my mind to being better, and doing whatever that takes!

Hung out with a good friend tonight. One who has done me favors, and been a confidant as I have this person. When everything was said and done said person and I agreed to go to another location and talk.

What came forth I even feel bad for typing, but must confide somewhere. I guess this is as good a place as any. I'm being as anonymous as I can.

Anyway, said person tried to find drugs. Asked for my assistance in this act, and I said I didn't have anything or anyone to provide.

I honestly prayed that there would be no come through for them. I mean it. I listened to them while I drank coffee after 2am, a HUGE no no for me being an insomniac. So here I am at 5 am typing this, because this is a person I really care for, and want everything for. I mean, damn. They have the world at their finger tips if THEY COULD JUST SEE IT!

Thankfully someone somewhere must have been listening because they gave up.



Man... I don't know how to describe what I'm feeling. Curious. Lost. Sympathetic. Actually bewildered is probably the word. I would never have expected this from them.


My head fucking hurts from the caffeine and all the thoughts that rolled around in there.

Anyway, this person said they couldn't trust that I could even sympathize with them unless I participated. They relented after I shared some personal information of my own, but still.
I know it wasn't about me, but it hurt that they assumed I wouldn't understand. I fucking do. I was this person like, 4 years ago. But I'm not anymore. Where did I go? What changed? What can I possibly say that will help? They also said I never act drunk, which means I couldn't be even either. That's why they assumed to share all info with me.
Time doesn't fix all wounds. But neither do drugs. And I haven't been fucked up on anything besides liquor in months. (Never on what they asked.) And even at that I've cut back on drinking.

I hurt. I really fucking hurt tonight. And it's not even for me. I hurt for them. I don't mean this as pious or anything. I'm in no place.
I still drink. I'm still getting over soooooo many things right now. I have to go see ANOTHER doctor to work on my sleep problems. BESIDES my sleep specialist. (Way to go bleeding heart. You looked after another's health tonight AGAIN instead of your own.)
But fuck... I want to be a good friend. And sometimes people just need someone to listen to them and be honest with. Without judgment. I did my best to be the best person for them tonight.

I hope because I didn't shut myself off from them I wasn't taking a step back. I'm on a slippery slope right now because I'M FUCKING LEARNING. I didn't judge, I swear. I understand.
But I smoked because they did. Also something I'm not looking for again at all. Not to mention the coffee which is making me feel so icky right now it's ridiculous.
That's it.
That's the step back.
I just realized.
When I type out I FEEL ICKY because of something I did for someone else, that has to be the line, right?
If there even is one... There must be.

I feel physically gross because I stretched myself out for someone. That must be a line. And putting my own "sobriety" out there is def not cool for me, or them. That's fucking enabling.

Welcome to my nightmare. I'm learning everything people learn in their teens now I think.

I have to stop typing. I feel like shit looking at this screen. I feel like fucking shit.
I am upset at me. And physically ill now.

And I finally had my first pleasant dream since I can remember last night and woke up today feeling pretty damn good. Fuck.

I wish Xanax could fix this. But it can't.

I love you. I do.

Growing pains are a bitch. Especially now that I've realized growing means leaving some people behind. No matter HOW MUCH YOU LOVE THEM.

Our whole soul

Tonight is a trial. A different one in something I haven't faced before.

I attended a show and the band was fucking killer. I've seen enough to know who has it and who doesn't, and they fucking do. They are ready for major label attention an I'm sure they are gunna get it eventually. Anyway, invited the boys out afterward for drinks and they agreed. We met at The Cha Cha. Well, that was the plan anyway but it ended up being one member and his 'entourage' which was a bunch of females. When the Canadians left it was me, him, and a very obvious groupie. I decided to go ahead and leave at that point as I didn't see needing to be around with him sucking face with this drunk 21 year old. I wasn't offended exactly, other than the fact I was lured there as a group and then ended up being the third wheel to this very public display of "if you give me cock I'll be your whatever forever." I get it, I do. By all means, if you can and you're single go for it. But for chrissake leave me out of it.

(I'm leaving the band name out of this specifically as, well, it's good business.)

Chances are he'll call me and wanna hang out and maintain our friendship, but shit, I'm gunna make the terms very clear in this event. Anyway I'm not his handler or his manager or anything so it's not my job to look out for him. And besides, whatever her name was, if she's gunna be that easy, again, not my problem.

The real underlying issue in this is I came home alone. I wasn't around my usual posse, I didn't have my friends to keep me strong, or anything to keep me from triggering, which means I am. I am being tested. And because I was near Johnny's place, and I'm now drinking a bottle of white wine alone, I really fucking miss him tonight.
I know there are gunna be days where it's harder, and some easier, but on nights like this I have to wonder does he ever even think about me? Does he ever miss me at all?

I wish he could see some of the progress I've made, and the (even minor) changes I've made and continue to make.
I worked to the best of my ability to make that the best relationship it could have been, but I realize now how much easier it would have been on him if I'd been involved in doing this business more. It would've taken my attention away from wanting his so much. I don't feel that constant ache I once did, when you're hurt by the death of something beautiful.
I know in my heart I did my best with what I had at the time. I know the core issues would have remained, but I really wish I knew what I knew now. And I've said it before, but I'll say it again. I really, really miss our friendship.
It's going to take me some real time to find that kind of friendship again.

Anyway, I am hosting another open mic on Jan 18th which again is good for business- but, I'm working up the balls and working out the kinks to do a full Kate Sparrow set. Me, friends on other instruments, but the headliner would be me. This would be in Feb. I met a recent contact who is a writer associated with the stranger at a party and he's interested in hearing my work. If shit goes well, there could be something there as well.
I suppose it's another reason not to get caught up in love. I know how distracted I get by it.

God, I'm sick of reading this entry already. It's like I either write about love (or lack thereof) or some shit about the direction my music is taking. It's all lovely, I'm not downplaying it by any means, but if it doesn't work it's just more bullshit and that's not what I want for my life. I want real-ness, tried and true.

...That being said it's me and a bottle of white wine without my drinking partner. Or any drinking partner...

But none so beautiful as him...

And while I used this as a way to work out in my own head what was wrong with us, I wish I could take back any hurtful thing he ever read or misinterpreted.
I loved him more than he knows.

And I'm sorry for any outside influence that made me doubt- turned me out- lead me off. If it was just us- face to face- heart to heart- I do believe life could be different.

So I drink to you my friends. Making our lives the beautiful different. Never striving to stop learning, and to always loving with our whole hearts, which in turn fill our souls.

<3

Complex

I suppose now is as good a time as any to write
btw happy xmas back SB, hope it was good. <3

As for me, I've been keeping myself busy. It's been nearly a month since I've written and while some days have been slow, some days have been mad. The last two weeks I've hardly drank, though I'm not seeing much progress. Started a new melody tonight, but that was before I welcomed my friend Deb back from the UK. Prior to that I was in Salt Lake for the holidays, and before that making plans to record. Got Joe Zara to agree to drums over the drum kit which is exciting as he's a musician I admire a lot. I've been talking to other musicians as well and plodding along. Things aren't moving as fast as I'd like, and we're behind on the UK date but as I understand, this is fairly normal. I made notions about doing a conventional Northwest thing, and I'm guessing I'll be doing a lot of the work on that. That's ok. I love Portland. I'll be happy to get there. My friend Glitch has some prior knowledge of the bar and club scene and is getting ready to tour with his band, which is exciting for him. But, I reiterate, we're plodding along.

Meanwhile I did bookings for other bands, and, as I said, traveled to Salt Lake. I got stuck in the Holiday traveling fiasco which made me really relieved to get there. When I did I had dinner and went straight to bed. The next night I stayed in as well. That surprisingly was the way for most of the trip. Christmas rolled around and I got some dvds, a few cds, and books which was awesome. My sister also bought me a manicure, which makes typing a sonofabitch. I Saw Wayne soon after and we had our usual sushi night and chatted about our lives. His ex fiance wrote him a letter and he asked my opinion. They hadn't spoken in 6 years, and I speculated it was a Christmas feeling or possibly because of a recent break up. Turns out I was right on both accounts. I guess it helped him kinda with the past and I was happy he got some closure. Six years is a long time to wait.
Anyway, the next night I went out with Candace and her husband Abe to the Highlander for a karaoke night which was a lot of fun. Another friend of theirs Aubrey was to come with us, but she left her ID so Candace drove her home. It gave Abe and I a chance to talk. We talked some about neutral things, and some about their trip to Seattle. I hadn't seen things the way they had, which may have been the right way. I Wish now I had...

The night ended on a high note, and I came back to Seattle the next night feeling kinda sick again. I had stayed home a lot in SLC for the same reason. When I got back I finished the book "Heavier Than Heaven," and planned my friend Sarah's birthday party. She says it was the best birthday ever, and I'd like to take a little pride in that. New Year's was crazy and for once, was actually a lot of fun, but not without incident. I celebrated at a gay bar with my friends Adrianne and Jeff and many of their friends, and then watched the fireworks from her rooftop in the freezing cold. It reminded me a bit of the fourth of July, and made me sad in a sense. I celebrated alone this year which was probably what I needed.

In other terms of what I need- therapy is a trip, and I'm doing my best to work out my immediate downfalls, as well as some of my past hindrances. The more I give of myself, the more I'm scared of judgment. This is the first time since I was a teenager more or less I'm talking about me and not about my relationship. (Or about how it relates to my mom.) I realize I talk about shit in here, but it's not exactly a sounding board and nobody's suggesting anything in that sort of way.
Since it all began in the whirlwind I have realized I'm a. Not Borderline anymore, or B. possibly never was. I have been told by 3 professionals now I'm too self aware. I also don't self injure often enough (apparently) and don't have a cluster B manipulative personality. I have also sought therapy more often, and haven't attempted suicide or showed suicidal behavior in many years.
There is some relief in this... Because it means I just have a complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
Sigh...

I wish this means there was a pill I could take, or everything made sense now- But I'm not out of the woods yet. Traumas have built on top of traumas and the mess left in the wake of these events is palpable. I wish there was more I could do, but I just try and figure out how to nurture myself, write music, and stay out of the business of getting hurt.
Anyway, in therapy I'm learning and doing my best to stand up to people that do not have my interests at heart. I tell people what was up or what bothered me, even if it's after the fact. I am told it trains me to say something when people are actually doing it. I realize it's pretty late in the game to be learning this life skill, and I feel pretty jipped that no one told me I was doing it wrong before. But I've had the notion for a few years now and no way to put it into practice. It's good to have it laid out. I am a stubborn mother fucker though, and it's going slow. Especially with my desire to be nice to everybody all the damn time.

Even in writing this though, I can see my brain functioning a bit better. I'm proofreading on a bit of a higher level, and while I still feel more retarded talking to people than I did in say, high school, I am happy my brain is a little less clouded. I haven't had an ambien episode in about 4 months and have been more careful with my pills, and my health in the last 30 days. While I still love meeting new people, I'm not actively seeking a love substitute.

I hate to say any of this or admit it because I'm afraid I'll just fall off again into whatever shit used to work. It's not that I wasn't happy then- I can't even say I'm *that* different now. It feels like a shaky track. All it would take is one fucking fight, one episode, one side track into whatever is easiest- and I don't doubt it will happen- that will leave me emotionally paralyzed and unable to move forward. But I guess the best I can do is acknowledge it'll happen, write, and talk my way through it, then get back up and do it again.

I just hope I don't forget how to live, love, and be nice to people. I think sometimes it's a curse...
But at the end of the day I have to accept that's just me.

Happy new year.