Seek Treatment, How?

Aight final word on this as I have to put myself to bed and stop binge crying.

and I don’t know if this is a wrong or right response

I love the response to focus on Robin Williams life and not his death.

BUT

what I’m seeing over and over again is the phrase or sentence “Its an illness like any other (true), please seek help or treatment (um, ok?).”

Where is the response,

Robin Williams was another of us who has died. Aren’t we tired of losing people? Isn’t there a problem with the mental health system?! Is there something to be improved? Aren’t we really just responding in the same way all parents and guidance counselors do when that one kid hung himself in highschool?

In my experience, I don’t know anyone who hasn’t been touched by suicide or mental illness.

Where is the anger?

Don’t tell people to just “get” help. As though that hasn’t always been known to them. or told to them. make it better. make it more affordable. what about the rest of us? I think the problem is larger. and I feel a little disappointed that no one is saying, what more can we do?

If they can’t help themselves, if we don’t really know the brain or how antidepressants work, if most of us can’t afford the care we need, its more than putting down the cheerios and tissues or razor or pills or whatever.

Don’t tell me to just seek help. Maybe advocate for better help. Because the solutions out there, they’re clearly losing the battle.

I don’t have any answers but I think we can do more. if ALS has an ice challenge out, if your passionate about civil rights and reposting videos, if you’re crying because we all lost a father figure, a friend, a great soul, a hilarious motherfucker, a brave man, what are we Doing to make sure we don’t lose him again?

Full Tilt Bozo

I am a pretty self centered creature. and stupid at times. especially when it comes to my mental and physical well being.

I found out TODAY that Robin Williams is dead.

So many things in my life are colliding and empty..

I do work under the table for people at my startup over the weekend for extra cash. I’m also trying to work for myself to make up for lost sales time due to being out of town and a slacker and sick. and i forgot to refill my psych meds.

I became the record holder for most sales in one day today at my job. this is an astronomical feat due to luck and sweeping the leads by getting there first and not being a dick to independent business owners.

And I walk home tonight like Ellie Goulding is playing live beside me. Like Ian Curtis didn’t die, and I got to see him play. Like I’ve fallen in love and feel the press of his lips still on my mouth.

I hadn’t felt this good in years.

Not since I fell in love with my ex-husband, but even deeper, maybe not since high school when I found out I won a Shakespeare competition that I had worked hard for.

I also had a shitty job interview but overcame that and got the final 3 sales to land that shit when I got back to work. which is extraordinary because usually I fold at the first defeat.

Everything is together and apart.

Because when I got home. I didn’t want to drink. I didn’t want to sink into Netflix. I wanted to share that with someone who knew what it meant to me. Really knew. and I kinda realized for the first time. How profoundly alone I am.

I have a rented room in a craigslist apt. I never go out (I say its money usually its fear or laziness), and I can’t date for the life of me.

This all landed like a great silent heaviness.

I am alone.

truly alone.

If you can’t go home, and celebrate your happiness with people you love, then what does it matter?

I could say or justify or fight. I could point out that I am broke. that i don’t buy food or clothes or my fucking pills. and that excuses this unhappiness. but really, i’m really good at sabotaging myself. over and over.

And then I went on fbook and found out, days later, that Robin Williams is dead.

The tears just now won’t fucking stop.

Suicide?

It hurts almost as though my best friend died. Someone who shares my madness and illness and sense of humor and who raised me through their own generosity and spirit and heart and talent and fucking good laughs.

No. Please just someone tell me this is not true. that  HE is not gone. not forever.

I always thought I’d see him live one day.

and NOT FUCKING SUICIDE.

NOT STUPID FUCKING MENTAL SHIT!

not the cancer that resides in my brain too.

I’ve wanted to cut and burn and just do stupid shit. 

I have to remind myself my grief for him is separate.

All of this is unconnected and just life throwing fire crackers under my feet.

Unfortunately its the fucking fourth of july apparently. and everyone has lit one.

I just

A. Don’t want to be alone when I have such happiness

B. Don’t want to be mentally ill and have to treat it on a regular basis

C. Want Robin back. Or that he really finally feels free.

if i am honest. I am glad he is free from pain. I wish I was. I just have to get back on my pills and stop being such a pussy about life. I hate being so weak. 

I found this in his early hbo specials and it kinda sums up what I love so much about him and comedy and the deep wisdom and sadness it comes from (its a far from perfect transription):

Old man character comes out feeding pidgeons methadone and speaks to us:
"Ya got to be crazy.
Ya know what I’m talking about?
Full goose bozo.
Cause what is reality?

Madness is the only way I’ve stayed alive.
Used to be a comedian a long time ago

I’m being grotesque
Cause I gotta be,
Ya see what I’m saying?
Its too late to be sane.
Too late.
Ya got to go full tilt bozo…
Cause you’re only given a little spark of madness,
And if you lose that…
You’re Nothin.
Don’t.
From me to you,
Don’t ever lose that.
Cause it keeps you alive,
Cause if you lose that,
Pffff.

That’s my only love,
Crazy.

Cause there’s no government in the world,
Can handle madness.
Cause ya got to fly above it all,
Remember, angels have wings because they take themselves lightly.

From me to you,
Keep bozo.
Ya got to.
Like Lord Buckley said,
" people, they kinda like flowers. Its been a privilege kinda pollenatin’ here in your garden."
Come back.
I’ll be here

Listless Sunday

Somedays I wake up and just look at the fog and wonder, why the F*CK am I alive?

Not in a bad way.

Just an honest curiousity.

haha I mean, what am I DOING?!

I’ve stopped hunting the man folk.

I have started le work outs.

I am looking for a living wage job.

Sometimes I feel like my life is going down the mediocre path by little increments. almost unknowingly. like these small choices.

a duvet cover.

a jacket to interview in.

every cold call.

i’m losing a bit of myself.

Is this how we become adults?

Just inch by inch, choice by choice, we relegate ourselves to age.

i hope my rocking chair is fucking swag.

mosteverythingisterrible:

@TitosVodka the official #Vodka of Is That Your Kid? #ITYK? Podcast @mikemetrovich drinks his #TitosVodka with CranGrape.

Look at this badass. that stache. those aviators. that dainty grip on the glass. #TITOS distilled 6 times, never 7. Thank you Austin and Pburgh

An Al Anon Lives in Us All.

I’m pretty open. (i think)

But I got married and burned not so recently by loving an addict.

Take note, it was not the addict that burned me, but my own delusional loving.

I just watched ‘TV Junkie’ on Netflix. 

and I compulsively needed to share.

I saw the same lies that become truths, the wreckage, the rehabs, the coaxing into standing, the family members caught up in late night phone calls, and a woman trying to love the man inside.

I want to cry and scream this to someone. and hug someone. and erase this from me.

but i will always have this experience.

and for now, being immature, i fucking hate it.

Moderation? Moderate on? Mod their inspiration?

I came home today, pissed. Pounding the tetris of cement and asphalt, huffing my cig like it was an untriggered answer.

image

and all i saw were gifs i’d seen before

angry trailer trash shouts at angry trailer trash, angry trailer trash gets beaned with iron shovel.

this violates every rule of the “rumble.”

Clearly she’s the weaker for busting out a weapon when it was hand to hand.

how more clearly can you define a coward?

why do i even debate this? 

why should i have to?

clearly if its hand to hand and you whip out a shovel you’re the weakest link.

If this bitch showed up to fight, friends could level her sans gardening tools. #bearealbitch

pussy: http://search.yahoo.com/search?fr=mcafee&type=A211US606&p=girl+fight+shovel

Sunday is a hard day

So I don’t do well with down time.

Don’t get me wrong, I always wish for time off. but when I get it, I’m so lonely and ungrateful.

I am tired of having AMAZING friends in far off cities.

And none here, besides you kat.

where my beezies at here?

Q

oohfiretwerks asked:

thank you your message made me feel a bit better i guess I just need to look on the brightside (I'm glad you're still here btw stay perfect)

A

Dudes of course! i struggle alot and I like your posts. stay strong and never hesitate to be vulnerable. when I post whats really going on then I find something new. you”re apart of us.

Shirtlessness

Obviously i’m a lady.

and I have lady parts

So when i work out its usually fully swathed in as much of an american-like burkha as I can manage.

But today I got home, had a drink, and was like, f*ck, I gotta work out.

So I went in my room, shut the door, took off my shirt and then was like “LETS GET WEIRD!” I took off my bra too.

It was…strange.

I felt so f*ckin free.

and then i wondered, is this male peacocking? is this how they get their self-esteem?

To bra-less workouts my minxes and men!

it WILL be a good day, won’t it?

Last night i had a terrible dream…

I dreamt I was dating NinjaDick.

and it was a looooooong dream.

I woke up surprisingly early. and very confused.

Not only do I never want to sleep with that dude, DATING HIM?!!

Ugh.

But I squared my shoulders and kept my chin up.

I cooked breakfast. went for a run. went to the bank. cooked lunch. enjoyed a beer.

and just when i’m feelin pretty spiffy, 

BAM!

The exhusband writes me another long abusive email. 

Now that he is broke he’s claiming i owe him thousands of dollars? Wuuuuuuut. Not like i paid for all the plane tickets, got him sober, had him drink away my parents expensive liquor cabinet, AND paid and did everything to make the divorce happen. Where’s my money?

I filtered his ass. and i’ll be damned if that drunken idiot ruins my effin saturday.

today is weird…