christmas cheer

the kids - both of em - and I put up decorations today, including the tree. and the meds must be working because it was the most enjoyable tree putting up and decorating that I can remember EVER. seriously. oh and look at this...bella just came in the kitchen playing with the princess coach that was her big present last year. this marks the second time that she's played with it, the first being last christmas morning. it's a before-christmas miracle!

aaaaanyway, things are going well in the milliceccobach household. which I'm always afraid to say.

what do you want most for christmas? and I don't want these "world peace, the love of my children, actor X naked on my bed" answers. I mean really truly. like what you'd want someone to get you if you had the balls to ask. ready, go!

pasquale j colancecco in pictures

I have my brother's computer in my kitchen. his screensaver is a slideshow of all of his pictures. I thought I'd list out what he had. it gives you a feel for what was important to him and what he liked. all of these pictures are different.

pink triangle
60s mod girl
snowy park
geno's steaks
city hall
bridge in philadelphia
telephone operator
obama "hope"
phila skyline
william penn
phila skyline at night
art museum at night
telephone operators
logo for blondie (the comic)
telephone operator
phila skyline at night
independence hall
love statue
phila skyline at dusk
obama "hope" small
little rascals
art museum in the early morning
outer space
little rascals
aids ribbon
old picture of city hall (1800s)
frozen bridges in perkasie
80 celebrate
red ribbons marching
musical notes
little rascals
little rascals
little rascals
telephone operators
outer space
american flag peace sign
wm penn at night
aerial view of phila
house on warnock street
milky way galaxy
cobblestone street in phila
aerial view of phila
computer
ben franklin bridge
art museum at night
laptop computer
aids ribbon
pink triangle silence = death

I'm sorry they taught me to hate you, and that I listened to them.

world series of election birthday, rip

so much groundbreaking lately. the phillies won the world series and although there are people who don't understand why that's important to alot of people, it just is. and it was fantastic to see the city be so united and excited. there were enough aspects of it that didn't go my way personally to make it bittersweet in some cases, but overall, I was thrilled. then we had the parade, bella's birthday, trick or treating, and a grown up halloween party all in the same day. overwhelming. I learned of a death in my family on sunday, one that was shocking and upsetting and ultimately thought provoking and full of guilt, and then election day was yesterday. I feel like everything is different and I'm a little overwhelmed again.

of course, bella turning 4 was the least surprising and most special. she was very proud of herself for being 4, and is loving her presents. she helped me vote yesterday, too, pushing the "cast vote" button. she wanted me to vote for balack kobama, marock co bama, and then finally ba-rack-o-ba-ma. she says it very slowly.

so I did want to say because I'm annoyed right now. I turned on the radio to listen to stuff about the election, and instead, I'm hearing about the station's new calendar and all the mostly naked girls in it. really? oh and miss february was also the winner of philly's hottest underboob. I hate society sometimes. barack, save us from female objectification!!

from bella:

I love you. cookies are my favorite snack. peanuts are like fruit and cantaloupe. trees come from pineapple trees and apple trees, giggle. my dollies have ponytails and sometimes have tutus.

because I felt compelled.

this morning, I woke up and started doing my thing. it wasn't until I was driving into work that I realized it was 9/11. and, as I had in the past 2 years or so, I didn't really give it alot of thought. as the day progressed, I forgot about it. nothing about the day was different. but I had to drive home around lunchtime and while I was in the car, there was a block of songs on a local radio station that were a tribute to the victims of 9/11. in between songs, there were brief snippets of accounts of the day. so I listened. and I found myself getting emotional and getting goosebumps.

that day, that block of time - weeks? months? - after that day, I do have to remind myself to remember. it feels like a long time ago. there are plenty of things that happened around the same time that I have no trouble recalling. I don't know why remembering this takes a tribute from a radio station. so I feel like I want to put this out there today.

my friend tracey emailed a distribution list at cdnow, where we worked. a plane hit the WTC. I figured like a prop plane, something small. then people started going into the caf, where we had tvs. seeing everything, it was horrible. being at work, it was numbing. my sister was stuck in orlando and planes weren't flying. it was the only help I felt like I could give to a horrible situation. so I went about it with gusto. I got her and her family onto a train the next day to get back to philadelphia. you had to call over and over to get through on a cell phone. that was all I was able to do, and when I was done, I went back to feeling totally useless. everyone wanted to help - we gave supplies and shirts and water, almost none of which made it to where it needed to go and little of which were ultimately used. we had vigils and prayer meetings and we all came together like a family. political cartoons showed lady liberty crying. I listened to the local news radio station constantly, listening to stories and news. I cried alot. I helped trent understand. it consumed me for a long time.

I cried the next year, when compilations of stories and footage were released.

I felt sadness the next year after that, when those compilations were re-released.

this year, I forgot.

when I do remember, I remember how sad everyone was, how sorrowful the situation was. and how horrifying. women shouting at tv cameras to ask if anyone had seen their husbands, their daughters, their sons, or their friends. the compilation movie that pointed out that the thuds you were hearing during the footage of firefighters in the lobby were actually bodies hitting metal and concrete from people who felt it was better to jump than to burn. the people in rural PA, and washington, who were overshadowed but still hurting just as much. the mothers whose children were being cared for and now were gone. the firefighters and volunteers who were trying so hard to find survivors who weren't there.

maybe that's why we can forget, maybe the reality of the situation is too hard to hold onto for very long. there are people whose lives were touched personally by 9/11 that will never forget, and I'm sure that there are others who for whatever reason will never forget, but I will forget.

I just have to remember to remember.

oh, and the foot fetishist

double post day...

I have to tell you about my run in with the aggressive foot fetishist, here in words for posterity. picture it, south philly, 2008. (RIP estelle.) I left a party at todd and theresa's at about 3:35 to go to my car to go home. I get to 4th and queen and a dude asks me for the time. so I give it to him and start to cross the street. he follows me and catches up and kind of jumps in my way and says "I didn't know it was that late". I keep walking. he kind of tugs on my arm and asks me if I ever heard that if a woman's second toe is bigger than her big toe, it's a sign of intelligence. now, the way he's talking to me, I thought there was something wrong with him. like, he was shifty and looking down and kind of rocking back and forth a little. so I just said that was interesting and started walking again. I only took a step or so when he tugged my arm again. that's when the alarm bells really started ringing. we were all the way across the street now, out of the street light, in front of an alley. so then he asks me if I was leaving a club, or a party, or what. I said I was leaving a party and again started to walk away. a more urgent tug, more of a firm one, and he asked if I really thought the toe thing was interesting, and wasn't I glad that I knew that now? it was something I didn't know before that, right? then he reaches down and strokes my second toe, saying "and I saw you have a toe ring and..." which is when I couldn't really concentrate. then he grabbed my foot. and it wasn't for an extremely long period of time, but it was a firm grip, and I looked at that alley, and I realized I was off balance, and I was just scared shitless. I thought, oh my god, I'm going to be...foot raped? whatever, this dude's gonna whip it out and chop my foot off for a souvenir. I had my keys in my hand and put the points in my knuckles, but here's where the instinct diverges between men and women, I think. all the dudes asked me why I didn't sock him or just tell him to leave me the fuck alone. and here's what they didn't understand - if a dude starts fondling me, I'm not going to provoke him. I piss him off, I may take him to the next level. like, if he was only thinking of chopping my foot off, now he's gonna. or if he already planned to be violent, now it's gonna be worse. and if I punch him in the face but only manage a glancing blow, he's going to be pissed no matter what his intentions were. so I pulled my foot away, and he started following me again, but I was not stopping. I wasn't running, I didn't want to piss him off, and he was yelling after me stuff about did I leave the party because no one would tickle my feet, and was it because I hated it? (which, that was creepy too because wouldn't you want to know if it were because I really wanted to be tickled? it just kinda reinforces the idea that he wanted to do something against my will.) anyways, as soon as I was out of reach, I got my cell phone out (it was in my back pocket but I didn't pull it out because I didn't want him to potentially grab it out of my hands) and called jon and asked him to meet me at my car. and my voice was shaking alot by then. so he calls me a few minutes later, when I was crouched down in my car, and asked what happened. as I was telling him, I see todd run up the other side of the street. so I beep my horn and get out, and here comes nadav at full speed. and then jon and lester. calvary. they looked for the dude (late 30s, 40s, bleached jeans, white reeboks, yellow fake silk button down shirt, brillo hair. basically john oates from hall and oates without the mustache) and then made me call the cops. I gave that description over the phone and they said they'd send someone out, which after almost a half hour, they didn't.

so there I am, with 4 guys that came to my rescue, and now I have to tell them that what got me so freaked out was...a foot fetishist. an aggressive foot fetishist. I am actually giggling now as I write it. I mean, at the time, it was scary as hell, but now, I mean...a foot fetishist? who the hell does that happen to?? what are the fucking chances???? the guys were so nice about it though. I would have probably laughed at me. and they probably did when they left. oh well, what are you gonna do?

but now I know how intelligent I am. I mean, my second toe is totally longer than my big toe. so thank you, john oates foot dude, for showing me the way.

it. is. almost. FALL.

it's pretty much no secret that the last couple years of my life have been rife with me having mental issues or being afraid to have mental issues. I can't always tell what is making me feel the way I do, but I know one thing that nearly always makes me feel better. fall. autumn. between uncomfortable summer and dreary winter.

lots of people love fall and for alot of the same reasons - cool weather, changing leaves, good smells, coziness - but I think my main reason is new possibilities. most people, I think, feel this in the spring, when stuff starts growing. and not necessarily in the fall, when stuff starts dying. I think it goes back to the clean slate feeling I always got when a new school year started. and I guess it's stuck with me.

of course, fall contains my favorite holiday. it's so amazing to me that bella's birthday, without planning, fell on halloween. it's just another indication to me that I am done having kids. it's like the lottery - I may have told this story so I'll keep it brief. a few things happened during a workday that all had the same number, 111. I had to make the court runs for work and I passed by a convenience store, and my coworker urged me to buy a ticket. I did (asking for 111 "straight and boxed" as I had heard others doing, heh) and put the ticket in my pocket. the next day, my coworker greeted me saying "I can't believe it, you won!!!!" apparently 111 had come up the previous day. and I never played again. what a way to go out, you know? same with the game washers. I haven't played since I got a washer around the bolt in the can in the box. perfect throw. it's not that I'm superstitious or just lazy or anything. it's just that those moments are so good, I feel no need to top them. so bella is like that too. I already know I don't want more kids and what a way to go out, you know?

in other news, things continue along the same lines in other areas of my life but I'm ready for a change. mostly in attitude but hopefully more - with the fall clean slate.

siiiiighhhh

trent's high school orientation was yesterday. and we again had the grounding discussion. he was grounded most of the summer because he didn't get a job, and now he's cramming in all his summer homework in time for tuesday when school starts. it's tough to make sure that you're parenting the right way when they're older. it's fairly cut an dried when they're little, for the most part. you have a sense of what you want them to learn from you and what's acceptable and what's not. this is a giant gray area. frustrating for all of us.

bella is suddenly very into spelling. she spells everything she sees. (meaning, says the letters.) her hair is getting so long and I love it. I don't want to cut it. she's more allowing of pony tails, too, so that's helpful. she's also getting really into playing basketball outside. which I love. I got her a princess basketball so it is even more compelling for her.

I took an "empowering" step today to challenge my diagnosis with my psychologist. we're going to go to my psychiatrist on tuesday with a new recommendation. means new meds, which means weaning from old and dealing with new side effects, but if it ultimately makes me less uncomfortable in my own skin, then fantastic. bring it the fuck on.

happy labor day to all the moms out there. get it? heh.

back to our intended storyline

I have been so absolutely wrapped up in my own sick mind that I haven't talked enough about what this blog is all about - my kids. I get so caught up in things...I haven't slept for more than a few hours at a time in days. addled. the things that are important, the ones that are permanent. my family may decide they hate me, my boyfriend may decide that he really does have feelings for someone else, my friends may get sick of me like I think they will. the only things that are permanent and that really matter are my kids.

my sweet boy, trent. he just got back from europe. and even though we've had some rough times over the past 2 months or so, when he seemed like he was getting further and further out of reach, he came back with more love for me than I thought and was receptive to the love I had to give. he had a great time. all the way home from the airport, he told me about all of his exploits. he told me berlin was too americanized and dresden was the most beautiful city he's ever seen. he said beautiful, not cool. he's growing. but he's still my teenager - he took a steep train ride up a mountain in the swiss alps and when he got to the top, he and his friends all peed off the top, just to say they did. I love him so much. I'm so glad he's home.

bella's been giving me a run for my money. stubborn, saying no alot. but still saying the cutest things. she asked me today if the soda I got had caffeine, because caffeine makes you not tired, and you have to let your muscles sleep. and then in the morning, your muscles can get all waked up. she asked brett for some coupons from his salad and then proceeded to eat every single crouton he had. I drop something and she tells me it's okay, we all have accidents. she asks me to come up to the potty with her because she doesn't want to get lonely. she tells me she's getting bigger and then comes out to show me, which consists of her standing there looking proud. she saw worms today and said that the worms were her best friends, and she's so glad to see them. we got her a basketball net because she seemed to like the one we saw at a friend's, and I want her to be as athletic as she is comfortable with, because sports can really give a girl confidence. and I never, ever want her to be like me.

I got stung by a wasp today. there are dangers around, you know they're there. you do what you have to do anyway. and sometimes you get stung by a wasp. and it hurts, and you wonder what's going to happen next. will you have a horrible allergic reaction? will it get infected? how badly will it itch? when will the hurt go away? you didn't want to get stung, you just did. and then what. you go to webmd and find out about the odds of each thing happening. you read about home remedies. you read about how people died from a single sting. you read about how it could be absolutely nothing. and you sit and look at your wrist where you were stung, and you have no idea how it's going to go. no control over how it's going to go. and you just wait to see. and you realize the anxiety over it might have been worse than the sting. but you never really know that until it's over.

my kids may just save me.

now I take pictures

a hobby of mine that I've never taken seriously or even really gave any attention to even as a hobby is photography. I always felt that my pictures were trying too hard to be artsy and that everything I ever photographed had already been done before - not just done, but done to death. you know when you go to like disneyworld and they have the "kodak spots" where you're sure to have a really great backdrop of cinderella's castle or whatever? can you imagine how many people have taken pictures of that very same spot? I go to a public garden (longwood gardens in delaware county pa) and the conservatory installations are pretty much the same all year round - lotus outside, orchids and roses in their area, etc. and I always, ALWAYS see people leaning down to take pictures of the flowers and they're all basically the same. the same pictures I take, too. there's nothing special and no real artistic nature in them.

well, now I have a new camera. jarrett bought me a digital SLR (the canon rebel) and the pictures are fantastic. now my pedestrian and rehashed pictures look better than ever because of the quality of this camera. I find I take pictures of the same kinds of things often. I like repeating patterns and ordinary objects and I only really do well with natural light. anyways, my pictures are on flickr. I'm trying to give this more attention in my life because it's something only for me. we'll see how it goes. I'm trying to find a class to take that's not digital cameras 101 and not So You Want To Become A Professional Photographer!

thanks for reading.

objects
bella
general

the rest of the story

First off, I want to say that I feel totally lame for even writing all this, as if I am some sort of martyr or something. so please, if you comment, don't tell me how horrible it all sounds because it really wasn't as bad as it sounds.

I don't feel as overwhelmed as I did when I posted last. in fact, I'm kind of indifferent. but I guess for posterity, and because I know some of you might be at least a little interested, I am setting out to give a timeline of my stay at horsham clinic.

I arrived with jarrett around 5pm ish, I think. I think he told them who I was, and I was asked for some info, I think. I remember having to go into this sun porch kind of thing to smoke cigarettes. I cried most of the time. I was allowed one bag and so I stuffed my cdnow messenger bag full of stuff I thought I'd need. time passed, people came and went in the large waiting room (there was a fuzzy tv, thankfully) and eventually I told jarrett to go home because he had been there so long and I felt bad. and I felt worse because he took me up on it. I was scared because as the night wore on, more freaks started to come in. like a dude in a hospital gown with cuts on every visible part of his body except his face. cutter cuts. how did he get there? they had ambulances coming in with people but they had a special door.

shortly after midnight, (7ish hours later), I was seen by an intake doctor. I had my picture taken and my history taken, none of which I remember, but which I now have as part of my documentation I took home with me. I was escorted, I guess, to the ward where I'd be staying. I remember the nurse saying that I was going to be in the dual diagnosis ward because they had no beds available in the psych section. it took me a while to learn what dual diagnosis is - it's part crazies, part rehab. mostly rehab. so alot of detoxing addicts. most there against their will.

I was strip searched and had blood drawn. I was wearing drawstring pants - the drawstring was sewn in the back so that it wouldn't come out. it had to be cut - no strings, shoelaces, belts. I was given these weird velcro strips to hold my pants up. they went through my bag and took out all of my makeup except my mascara (eyeliner was pointy) and confiscated my razor, my wallet, my jewelry, a few items of clothing that weren't allowed (no short shorts - and my shorts aren't too short, but it was nothing even remotely provocative "because of the offenders", and nothing that could easily be used to commit suicide) and my lighter. probably a good idea anyways given what I had done. and they did finally re-dress my burns.

I was taken to my room, which I shared with 3 other women. I had a dorm sized bed, a wardrobe, and a nightstand. the wardrobe had no doors. there also was a non-lockable bathroom. I was told to keep my cigarettes and my coins under my pillow while I sleep because there were many thefts. I was given medicine - later I found out it was klonopin - and told to go to sleep.

I spent about 36 more hours in that unit before I was moved and it was horrible. they have daily blood tests even for the people not there for drugs. you had to check in in the morning and the evening so they could make sure you didn't escape or whatever (the doors are locked so I don't know how they figured you'd leave, but whatever.) their group sessions were scary. everyone goes to group and gets a paper to fill out (with a marker or crayon, no pencils or pens) that's sort of like a survey. on a scale of 1 to 10, how depressed do you feel? how hopeful do you feel? how anxious do you feel? how suicidal do you feel? how homicidal do you feel? then some fill in the blank questions like what is the thing that is making you the most anxious? do you feel better today than yesterday or worse? then you basically go around and each give your stats. the groups there were like 15 people so it took forever and you had group twice a day. and people did have something besides a 1 on the homicidal scale. then you got released to either go hang out in the common room or go outside and smoke (there is a lineup outside to get a light from the nurse who held the lighter) and the people that had the homicidal thoughts were mostly the ones going around and bullying people into giving them cigarettes. I lost about a pack of them while there. luckily, jarrett had brought me a carton as well as $20 in quarters for the payphone. (yes, I slept on rolls of quarters under my pillow and carried them around with me during the day.)

the third day I was there, I got moved to the psych building. it was so much calmer. I was still in the same kind of room with 2 other women. one was a long haired hippie looking woman in her 40s and one was a younger black woman with a Jamaican accent who brought no clothes and slept without a blanket, just in her jeans and red fleece, and barely got out of bed. she did tell me that she had no family here and few friends, that her family were back home wherever she was from, that they would disown her, and that she moved here to work for Merck (a big pharmaceutical firm in our area.) oh and the hippie lady didn't have alot of clothes to wear so she slept naked (which seemed odd because of the modesty rules) and she totally had a big tattoo of a butterfly on her cooter.

wakeup calls in the morning were fairly optional. everything was fairly optional, except meds. they could be forced on you. things worked on a restrictions basis. if you didn't go to group or get up on time, or showed any signs of trying to get better, you were on meal restrictions and outing restrictions and you didn't get to pick your food or go to the cafeteria at the main house (which required going outside). you got whatever food they delivered. you weren't eligible to get off restrictions till your 3rd day. I got off restrictions easily, I totally did whatever they wanted. I wanted to leave so badly. so I got to walk, escorted, up to the main house. I saw lots of other patients including lots and lots of kids. little kids. 6 and 7 year olds all the way up to teenagers. I asked the nurse how the hell 6 year olds were there and she said that they are very disturbed. she said she once had a 6 year old who had tried to commit suicide come in, get released, and eventually jumped out of a window and succeeded where he failed before. I have no answers for you if you ask how that can happen. it was haunting.

our group sessions were much calmer than the ones in the dual diagnosis. and the people were more friendly and I didn't have to sleep with my quarters. (I did find, however, that there was at least one pair of pants and a pair of underwear that were stolen from me but I don't know from which unit.) we still had to rate ourselves but no one was homicidal. and it was smaller and mostly women. I befriended the hippie lady and one other woman, we would hang out together as much as we were allowed. (they discouraged cliques, which I think is smart.) the hippie woman told me she occasionally had seizures but that they had been getting worse and more often. by the time I left, she had them about once every half hour. she'd just start vibrating with her eyes staring at you for like a minute then just keep talking. she often wanted me to hold her hand and I did but it really freaked me out.

I was going to have visitors so I wanted to try to clean up a little. I wanted to shave my armpits and legs to feel more human. I hadn't shaved in like a week at that point, since before any of this had happened. I had to sign up for a chaperone and she had to stand outside the shower while I used a cheap disposable razor in the time I was alloted to shave. I had to have the curtain open so that she could see me doing my legs.

my mom, my sister, my dad, brett, sean, and jarrett visited me. I was never so happy to see people in my whole life.

this whole time, I was totally drugged up. I was on klonopin every night and xanax every day. they took me off the lexapro I was on cold turkey which is probably why I wasn't doing so well, and they started me immediately on zoloft. so I had the withdrawal from one and the initial side effects from the other. plus the anti psychotics. you saw the "doctor" every other day if you could, at least every 3rd day (I wasn't even there that long, it was the 6th day that I went home) and he was the only one who could allow you to go home. the first time I saw him was for about 5 minutes when he asked me if I felt better, and I was so sluggish that I don't remember what I said. by the 5th day, I had asked the nurses over and over and over to see if I could get time with him, and my mom was calling too to get me out. finally I saw him and he said I seemed better and my insurance company was wondering why I was still there and might not pay so I was let out. jarrett and my mom picked me up.

it wasn't the worst thing in the world to happen and people have had much, much, much worse experiences than I had. but this was something so outside of my comfort zone and so outside of my real life that it really had a profound effect on me. my therapist (you couldn't leave until you secured an appointment with an approved therapist) said that she felt I had post traumatic stress syndrome, which I think is bull pucky, but I do think it really, really affected me, and for a long time afterwards. a long time after people wanted to hear about it. (btw, I no longer see that therapist and my therapist today is 10x better.)

there are certain parts that are really vivid - the nurses yelling "smoke break!!" and the weird trays that they used for food - and some I only just remembered now in writing all of this. I'm glad it's over and I never, ever want to be in that position again. luckily I can't, really, because in order to get more approved therapy visits from my insurance company, I had to trade in my covered inpatient days. ha. love it.

Last published on Feb 5, 2008

Hello. I seem to start every sporadic post with "I'm sorry I haven't been writing" but it gets on my nerves so I can only imagine what someone reading would think. though I think all of my readership, meager as it was, has dropped off.

in 3 days, it will be the 1 year anniversary of what I've come to refer to as "the incident" but has been categorized by my doctors as a mental breakdown. june 28th, I came home from work and began crying uncontrollably. brett and trent were there and brett was alarmed enough to call my family doctor and then take me over there. my family doctor, who had already prescribed lexapro and xanax in the lowest dose, told brett to take me home, stay with me for the night, and make sure I take 4 of the xanax every 6 hours. the next 24 hours were a blur. I know that brett called jarrett, jarrett stayed the night, and then brett took off work the next day to stay with me. in that time, in what my current psychologist has told me was a dissociative state, I burned myself with a cigarette lighter on my left wrist about 40 times. brett took me back to my family doctor after seeing what I'd done (and me having cried all day without stopping didn't help) and jarrett came, and between the 3 of them, they decided I should go to a local inpatient center called Horsham Clinic, whose website is a bunch of lies. "Take a walk on our 55-acre campus where mature trees, gardens, fountains, and an abundance of greenery provide a safe, tranquil environment to promote healing." by the way, you're locked in your building and you can only go out with the nurse and only about 4 feet away from the door. no one walks around the grounds, no one is allowed. you have to earn "priviledges" just to get to eat at the world class cafeteria in the main house.

maybe one day I will blog about my time at horsham. all I'll say here is that it was the worst 5 days of my life. overmedicated, stolen from, stripped of my shoelaces, my belt, and anything that could be used as a weapon, on "suicide watch" for no reason, and to top it off - gross food. the rest could be forgivable if I had a decent hamburger and maybe a brownie.

anyway. I tried very hard to get released from horsham and my mom was instrumental in getting me out by barraging my doctor with calls (and the fact that my insurance was about to give out helped) and when I got out, I felt lost. everything seemed different. and my whole life became about fixing myself as quickly as possible. it was all medication, therapy, people checking on me, bandages on my arm, it was my whole world for a while there. there are still some songs that I hear that make me instantly panicky because they were on during that time. I really think that the time after the incident was much worse than the time before it. maybe even during it.

and as hard as it is to say it, I didn't even find enough joy in my children to make things seem better. though it helped, it really helped. nothing was enough.

I am so glad that those days are behind me. I've ripped through all of my allotted outpatient sessions covered by insurance and it's been presented to me that I can either trade in some of my inpatient days for outpatient appts (1 inpatient = 4 outpatient) or I can use my official diagnosis to earn 50 outpatient appts but run the risk of it becoming a pre-existing condition and therefore not eligible for benefits in future policies. the natural choice is the inpatient/outpatient switch, but there's that little voice in the back of my head that says "what if it happens again??" I really don't think it will but I guess anything is possible.

anyway, I'd been pretty open about my meds and therapy but not about what got me there. by the way, I'm on 300 mg of lithium now and 300 mg of lamictal and nothing else. and it's great, and has been for about 2 months now. I have a fantastic new therapist who I see faithfully every week, and feel like things are definitely moving in the right direction now.

here's to a much better year.

funk be gone

being mentally unstable is exhausting.

I hate spending so much time inside my head, but it's so hard not to. I'm trying now to expand my social circle so I have more in my life besides the things that cause me to be anxious. it's slow going.

so let's talk kids. everyone likes kids.

bella is home sick today. well today she's not as sick as she was yesterday. and it's easier to work from home when she's more sick, which is sad but true. today she's feeling better and she wants to play wif me, sit wif me, and save my seat if I get up to do something. she's adorable but it's hard to get anything done. she has a runny nose and is getting over a 2 day fever. I don't know exactly what's wrong, but I knew I couldn't take her to daycare.

trent is a loving kid, I'm so lucky. he loves coming home and playing with bella. and believe it or not, he wants to kiss and hug her and she doesn't want him to. you'd think it was the other way around. they love each other and love to play. it's so helpful that he's able to keep her entertained. sometimes though they go and play and I'm just an observer...but I think it's good that they have that relationship. I just feel a little left out sometimes. but that's when I get alot of stuff done, so it's not so terrible.

there's not much else to say. I feel like I'm coming out of a profoundly depressed time, and I'm grateful to be out of that phase, but I'm afraid to say it's over for fear that tomorrow will be horrible again. we'll see.

I miss all of you.

putting it out to the universe....

this is what I want:

Oh, why you look so sad?
Tears are in your eyes
Come on and come to me now
Dont be ashamed to cry
Let me see you through
cause Ive seen the dark side too
When the night falls on you
You dont know what to do
Nothing you confess
Could make me love you less
Ill stand by youIll stand by you
Wont let nobody hurt you
Ill stand by you
So if youre mad, get mad
Dont hold it all inside
Come on and talk to me now
Hey, what you got to hide?
I get angry too
Well Im a lot like you
When youre standing at the crossroads
And dont know which path to choose
Let me come along
cause even if youre wrong
Ill stand by you
Ill stand by you
Wont let nobody hurt you
Ill stand by you
Take me in, into your darkest hour
And Ill never desert you
Ill stand by you
And when...
When the night falls on you, baby
Youre feeling all alone
You wont be on your own
Ill stand by you
Ill stand by you
Wont let nobody hurt you
Ill stand by you
Take me in, into your darkest hour
And Ill never desert you
Ill stand by you
Ill stand by you
Wont let nobody hurt you
Ill stand by you
Wont let nobody hurt you
Ill stand by you

sorry

okay, sorry about that.

the holidays were okay. bella loves santa. she got alot of princesses...which is exactly (alot of princesses) what she asked for. trent got my continued payment for his europe trip, which I never mentioned. it's in august. paris, germany, austria, lichtenstein, switzerland. he's excited. I also got him a playstation psp because I couldn't not get him anything, and that will be a lifesaver on the plane.

it may be short but it's all I have in me today. please don't listen to me rant, it's self indulgent and repetitive. seriously. I only leave the post up to remind me not to be so dramatic, because it is embarrassing to have it up and hopefully seeing it when I come here makes me remember to keep my self pity in check.

obvs-servation

you push away the people who do support you. you keep making excuses for the people who don't. and the people in between, it changes from minute to minute.

I spent today just like I spent yesterday and the way I'll spend tomorrow. who said what did I say what did I mean and did I do it the way I wanted to because of this or that or does she think I'm too dramatic or when is he going to leave me and when will I feel like myself and what if I do feel like myself and why doesn't anyone help what's help who helps why don't I help myself and I'll buy this and horrible parent.

my hobbies include smoking, overanalyzing, breaking phones, self therapy, crying, being melodramatic, and hating myself.

merry christmas merry fucking christmas and a happy new year of 365 more chances to fuck everything up.

so what's up with you?

I told rebecca that she shouldn't get upset with herself for not posting regularly because she doesn't owe her blog anything, it's hers to do with what she pleases. and I've been procrastinating writing on my own because of the same damn issues, like I didn't do my homework for a week and have to face the teacher.

bella's birthday party is this saturday, at mcdonald's. I'm sure all the parents are aghast at this, but the kid loves mcdonalds and it's her birthday. she's so excited. she's decided to be a princess for halloween (me: "well, what about a SCARY princess??") and she's psyched about having her little daycare friends at her party. should be cute.

trent is still being a very good kid. so good, for so long, that I fear that he's hiding something from me. like he's been expelled but I don't know it yet. is that bad? of course it is. I should be happy he's being so good. god.

in the past few weeks, I have totally gained a ton of weight. I didn't work really hard to lose it, it just kind of happened, but I got rid of all my old clothes and I felt good about it. I just can't seem to stop eating. it can't be the zoloft, i've been on that for quite some time. well, it could be because I accidentally stopped taking all my meds and had to start up on the lamictal again. even though I didn't want to start on it again - I guess it's too risky (and things were dicey, I had to admit) to be on an anti depressant without a mood stabilizer. so I'm back on everything. just not the xanax xr, because seriously it makes me feel a little suicidal. I used to laugh when hearing that a drug could make you suicidal if you weren't already, but for whatever reason, that stuff makes me think that driving my car into a tree really is the best way to deal with everything.

anyway, other than getting fat, not much is different from the last time I posted here. just trying to do the same things. open the mail, pay the bills, keep the house clean. why it's always a struggle, I don't know if I'll ever know. and yes, I still see my therapist and my psychiatrist...I don't know when I'm supposed to see progress. I guess it depends on how you view progress. if you view it as not making people hate me and not constantly wanting to run away to a remote island, I suppose I've made some progress. in terms of feeling like I'm progressing as a human? meh. maybe this is one of those journeys where you don't know that you've gotten far until you're done and you look back.

and hello again

sorry. the vacation was fantastic. 8 days was just enough - by day 6, I missed the kids more terribly than I ever thought I could, and by day 7, I couldn't wait to pull back into port. I had a scooter incident in bermuda that left me scraped and bruised. I saw beautiful water and a stingray that kept following me. I saw many virgin islands, none of which seemed to be made of actual virgins. I also did not get seasick. and jarrett was wonderful, as were our shipmates cara and pete. food was hit or miss - misses included weird fish sticks and buffet food, hits were the best steak I ever had and pumpkin spice gnocchi, which was weird at first but I now crave.

I hate my meds. I have no idea if they're working. I take them every day, put up with the side effects (did you know one of them is crazy sweating?) and I am not sure what they're helping. but ask me again tomorrow, I may love them.

I like my new job (did I tell you I had one?) and love taking the train every day instead of driving. though the part about not being able to be late (the train waits for no one) is kind of a bummer. and I had qdoba for lunch today - there are no qdobas near me. nicole is probably appalled right now but it's right around the corner and it was very good. of course, I've also had lots of non-chain food, but most of it is expensive (that is in walking distance - I don't really take a lunch because I have to leave early to get to daycare on time, so it has to be close.)

bella is exploding with cuteness. she's very into scooby doo right now and we have a ton of movies and episodes (45% of my dvr capacity) saved. the problem is that if I'm not right there to fast forward through commercials, she winds up asking me for stuff that she sees. she loves singing "I wanna be a teen top model - BE whatchoo wanna BE!" which is, I think, a new barbie. she also sings "splish splash" alot due to a toy she has that plays it (thankfully this is at sean's, as I would lose my mind) and she sings it with total inflection. and not to boast, but girlfriend has great pitch and rhythm, already. that makes me happy, as one of the things I love doing the most in this world is singing. (only in private or in a choir.)

trent is being really great lately, too. he started 9th grade this week and has been loving and kind, even though he's let his chores sort of slip. he doesn't stay pissed at me as long. I think he senses the issues I'm having (though I try to be proactively honest when I know things are bad) and wants to make sure he's not a contributing factor. which makes me immensely sad.

I still am not paying my bills. drowning in debt.

hello, goodbye

so I asked for someone to swoop in and take care of my bills, and I am happy to report that that's exactly what happened. through the magic of something called "trust", which I have dabbled in in the past, I asked jarrett to help and he has. in fact, he just balanced my checkbook again today, and that's like the 5th time he's done it. that I know of - it may have been more.

to add to how wonderful jarrett is, and to make you all either go "awww" or [vomit], we're going on a cruise. we leave on saturday and jarrett paid for my ticket. our deal is that I pay for incidentals on the trip, but there's no way that incidentals are going to cost as much as the ticket itself. just wish us luck, as there's a tropical storm or whatever near where we're going (bermuda, which is safe, tortola and st thomas, which would be in the storm's path).

regarding all the other shit. it's been mostly up and some down. the down has been pretty far down, which I suppose is concerning. I just try to ride it out. it's not easy on everyone around me - family, jarrett, friends that I keep at a safe distance (specifically nicole and betsy - I'm sorry) - and I hate that it's difficult, but I'm trying as hard as I can to improve.

anyways, wish me bon voyage and I'll talk to you when I get back.

I need help.

so things aren't going so well. I have always had a problem with paying bills on time. the thing is, I do really well for a long time and then one thing is late and then it snowballs. that's happening right now. it's not pretty. and then I get paralyzed. I wish someone would swoop in and just take control of my bank account until it's stable again.

I have had a rough few months. but, on the plus side, sort of, I start yet another new job on monday. this one better be a keeper. my contract at my current place was up yesterday, but they offered me a full time position. this other job pays alot more and has a better title, so I went with it. I hope I like it because I don't want to change jobs again for many many years.

on the meds front, I was taken off the lexapro after a, um, incident. my psychiatrist says that I am going through withdrawal from that now, even though I'm on zoloft now. and something called lamictal, which is actually an anti convulsant that works to stabilize moods. it's one of those things where the medicine was made for one thing and they realized it worked on something else. I had an appointment yesterday again and now I have to get a prescription filled for an extended release xanax to replace my as-needed xanax and nighttime klonopin. have I mentioned that I hate taking medicines? I hate not feeling like myself. it's one of the reasons I never liked drinking.

anyways, my stress level is ultra high about the money thing. I don't know what to do.

also - hi. I know, it's been a while.

and hubbard wins...

man, I was only 2 days off, too.

baby ray has arrived. and I can tell you on good authority that he's cute, pink, and soft. and noah loves him. he was petting his head and kissing him over and over. and nicole looks great and is super tan. they both (her and mark) totally had it together, too. no stressed out faces, no freakedoutedness. unless they're hiding it well. they are taking it all in stride. they're total pros.

hopefully soon I'll take bella to see RayKon - she's dying to meet him. (though she knows she can't till they're out of the hopsital and back at home.)