Thursday, July 30, 2015


What happens when you drown
When you're drowning 
When you feel nothing 
Total emptiness 
Lack of anything 
No will to live
Given up
Stopped fighting 
Let go
Are letting go
Nothing to hold on to
When you burn your skin 
And feel no pain
Or cut yourself 
And no blood comes out 
When you are bruised all over 
And raw to the core 
When your eyes are bleeding out 
Dream about death 
A funeral 
A different version of hell
Dunk your head in the toilet 
Drive off the bridge 
Smash into a million smithereens 
What happens when you are numb 
Dead to the world 
Dead to yourself 
No will to live 
What happens when you dream
Of nothing 
Die in your sleep 

The end. 


Today is Yom Haatzmaut. Yes, I'm wearing blue and white. Go Israel! Today like every day, I contemplate my life. It's almost my birthday. Another year has flown by. What do I have to show for myself? What have I accomplished?

I feel very stuck. I'm still haunted by the past. Most days I can barely live in the present. I work hard to live in the process. But the now is so difficult. There's not much to keep me going. Every day that I get out of bed is a miracle. I'm stuck.

I'm that soda bottle. All is calm until you shake it. And then you take the top off and fizz explodes everywhere, a lot less soda left. I'm sitting alone in a glass box. There's a key sitting right outside the glass. And yet, I don't make any effort to get out. I don't budge. I know the glass is breakable. I know there's a key right outside of my prison. But I can't move. I am incapable of making things better for myself. I choose to be stuck. I know no other way to function.

Where do I fit in? What is my purpose? Why was I created? What am I doing here? What do I want?

I've created this bubble, this reality. I have solidified my perspective. Manipulated my emotions. I have erased any possible expectations. And I can no longer be disappointed. I don't trust. I move. I do. Function. I am dependable. I am relied upon. I am your friend. Your caretaker. Your parent. Your spouse. I am defined by what you need. I am defined by you. There is no me. I am a figment of your imagination. A shell. I live to serve you.

I am deflated. Mute. I have quit fighting. A prisoner in my own life. Of my own mind.

On this very important day, I feel nothing. I wear the colors. But they mean nothing to me. I am not where I am supposed to be. I am lost. I am lost.

The common denominator

Honestly. Yeah. It's obvious that you don't "get what that means." That I'm the crazy one. And yet, you are insensitive. Constantly insensitive. You have your life and I have mine. Right. And you all wonder why I stay away. Why I don't come around. Why I have secluded myself. Make it about you. So you're always the one who needs to be accommodated. What about everyone else. When do I ever factor in. Does it even occur to you. Have you even noticed me. My life. My lack of life. Do you even know what is happening. What I'm going through. Are you so wrapped up in your own life that you have no room to notice me.

I know I'm blowing this stupid, idiotic thing out of proportion. But it really bothers me. I feel like I'm always cutting people out of my life. And I know that it must be me that's the problem. I'm not delusional to think it's "everyone else." I know it's me. I know that I'm the common thread. The common denominator. I must be the difficult one. The problem. And yet I still feel that I've always been drawn to "difficult" people. That I can only connect with complex and complicated people. Others who have gone through challenges. And those that are basic and uncomplicated don't really last in my world. But then again, the difficult ones end up being pushed out. So who's left. 

I've learned a very important lesson in recent years. One that I wish I would have understood years ago. Friends and maybe even people are not a given. A definite. Forever. They do not last a lifetime. Or better yet, it's ok for them to not last a lifetime. That doesn't necessarily say bad about me. It says it's reality. People change. Situations change. Life happens. And holding on to the past is not the healthiest or wisest thing. It can be damaging. Crippling. So I've let go of a lot people. And for certain individuals, it's caused me a lot of pain and heartache. I've obsessed about it. Had many sleepless nights. Felt very alone. But truthfully, I'd rather be alone than feel drained from others. Maybe that makes me sound depressed or severely introverted. Call it what you like. It's a defense mechanism. It's how I cope with this reality. 

Problem with my way of life is that it's very empty and quiet. It's a self induced loneliness. No one to turn to. Talk to. Or hang out. No one to call me out on my stupidity or hang out with on a carefree day. It's an unwilling choice. I'm the one who limits myself. Creates this world that  I cannot live in or seem to escape from. I've crippled myself. 

It's a few hours before I turn one year older. And as usual, I have this feeling of doom. An underlying emotion of misery. What do I have to show for my life. Another year has passed. Nothing has changed. I have not moved. Haven't budged. Lost more people. Recreated the wall within myself. A blockade. An emotion-free life. No expectations. No feelings. Nothing. An emty shell. 

Happy Nothing-Day.

Dead Calm

Sometimes I wish I was dead. Shhh, don't tell anyone. It makes people uncomfortable. They want to tell you that you shouldn't feel that way. Or that you don't feel that way. They make a joke. Try to lighten the mood. But guess what. This isn't about you. I'm not trying to beat around the bush. I don't need you to tell me to go to my therapist. Or to go on medication. I don't need your answers. Your suggestions. Your opinions. Maybe I need you to listen. To hear me out. Listen to my pain. Maybe I just need to vent. To be. To feel. To share. A shoulder. Did that ever occur to you. Maybe it's ok that I feel this way. Death is not always a bad thing. The worst thing. Maybe it's a relief. A final calm. Eternal peace. Maybe I'm crazy. And no, I'm not suicidal. You don't have to worry. I'm not going to hurt myself. I have no plan. You don't have to jump to conclusions. Relax. I don't need to be watched or even worried about. I'm just telling you that sometimes I wish it was all over. That I was done. Finished. And that's ok. My feelings are valid. You don't have to run from me. Avoid me. Walk on eggshells. I'm going to be ok. I'm strong as always. I put on a good act. Not to worry. You can go on living your meaningless, insensitive life. I'm fine. Thanks for asking.


Sleepless night
Early morning
6:30 am
Phone calls
Blood test results
Underground parking
Building maze
Glass walls
10:30 am
Heart rate 
Med list 
Clean back 
Local anesthetic 
Lumbar puncture 
Lie flat
2 hours 
Blood pressure
Elevated slowly 
Nuclear medicine 
1:30 pm
5 minutes
Bikur Cholim room
Potato bureka
5 year old 
5:00 pm
Repeat images 
Side roads 
6:13 am
Circling hospital 
8:00 am
5:30 pm

I live to serve

Sometimes I just wish for the end. For it all to be over. I see no point. No silver lining. Nothing in the cup. I see nothing. But feel everything. And nothing at the same time. Or maybe too much of everything. I just need a break. I need a breather from all of this. A pain-free moment. To be calm. I'm just done. I'm tired. Very tired. I feel old. Very old. It's enough.

I feel alone. Fighting this constant battle. Alone. No matter how much you try now. It's too late. You can't make up the damage. It's done. I'm scarred. Crippled. Destroyed. My heart is forever broken. Shattered. With no chance of recovery. I will never be ok. I will always be haunted. Damaged. I am damaged goods. Ruined.

Every day that I get out of bed is a miracle. I don't want to do this anymore. I daydream of a funeral. Mine. Who will attend. Who will speak. How miserable everyone will be. It's magnificent. I want everyone to feel pain. Anguish. I want everyone to feel a void. To wonder. How they caused me to end everything. How insensitive they lead their lives. Serves them all right. Everyone deserves what they get. I hope you all suffer.

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Distorted Religion

There's something seriously wrong with me. I feel like I can't hold back from saying what I think. Like my filter is completely not there.  And yes I know I rarely use it. But at least normally I am able to bite my tongue. Today, I am just on fire. I can blame this on the side effects of all the meds. That have completely wrecked my body. Or the lack of sleep. The nausea. But truthfully, I am just fed up.

It's people like you who make me hate this religion. Who push me away further and further. How dare you cover your hair. Your husband wears the uniform. Black and white. And yet you continue to look down on me. And then you call me judgemental. What happened to following the laws of the land. Your children are disrespectful and destructive. Your four year old constantly ruins our property. And all you do is laugh it off.

You think because you look the part that you can do whatever you want. It's not only about following god's law. Ever heard of treating others properly. Has that completely fallen off your radar. You think you know what's going on in someone's life. That you can make assumptions. Assessments. But you really have not a single clue. There are things that would make you sob your eyes out. You can't even begin to imagine what happens behind closed doors.

And the sick thing is that you of all people DO know. You have witnessed plenty. You are not new here. And I actually think you are a nice person. But how naive can you be. How can you make such statements. Life is fragile. And you never know what a person is going through. But go ahead. Be all high and mighty in your stockings and wig. Do you think that justifies your behavior. Of those like you. Do you actually think that this is what god had in mind.

How dare you call me judgemental. More like hateful. Disappointed. Let down. You and your kind are on this pedestal. You are supposed to be "chosen". You are supposed to be the pure ones. But instead you corrupt and pollute. Distort this religion. This is not what god intended. Not our tradition. You have created this world of us and them. And it's not ok. I refuse to subscribe to your distorted view. It's not authentic. Count me out.

You are lucky that there are people out there who save face. Who are kind. They don't look at my elbows. Or measure the length of my skirt. Their arms are open. Making this religion manageable for one small second. It's people like them that remind me that not everyone is like you. There is goodness and kindness. Generosity. They are non judgmental. And would never behave or speak the way you do. Their children are positive additions to society. And unlike you, they keep this religion going.

So go about your life. Be all high and mighty. Good luck with that.

Sunday, July 26, 2015


So this is something that I have gone through and I have never talked about it. Or maybe I have told a few people but no one really understands. I've done some bad stuff so this is probably shocking. And I don't even know where to begin but I feel like I need to get this off my chest. 

People talk about how abuse can lead a child or teenager to do bad things. And I've been asked many times by people and by therapists if I was ever abused when they hear my story. I think there's different types of abuse. It's not only about someone touching you or inappropriately forcing themselves on you. We all know that there's such a thing as emotional abuse and verbal abuse. And there is just plain inappropriate behavior that probably wouldn't get a child taken away but will damage that child for the rest of their lives. I'm not making any sense am I? 

You see I've always felt like I was damaged goods. But I knew too much and saw too many things happen that shouldn't have happened. And now I'm talking in circles. I'm pretty good at screwing things up. So I've learned to keep to myself. Shut myself up in my own world. Where no one can penetrate. Or hurt me. I've created these walls as protection. 

Now there have been a few people who broke through the barriers. Who I eventually let in. Maybe they understood me. Maybe they cared about me. But they all hurt me. Used me. I let them use me. Because I am a fool. Sometimes I feel like I'm living one big lie. That the person everyone sees or think they know is a farce. 

I go to an event and all I see is a loving family. I should feel warm and happy. But instead all I feel is empty. Lacking. It makes me sick that they all love each other. Care about each other. That life just seems so unreachable. So totally unrealistic. I can't look at them. Just reminds me what I don't have. 

I really don't want to be this person. I want a fresh start. A new life. Some opportunity would be nice. I'm sick of the  past holding me back. Of people ruining me. Disappointing me. Leaving. Physically and emotionally. Of having that void. In my heart. In my soul. In my body. 

I'm sick of all this shit. Just once I ask for some peace. A break. But no. You just keep striking. Let it go. We get it. It's enough. Just give us a fucking break. How much can a person handle. No more please. I'm begging. Please. 

Thursday, July 23, 2015

ICP Monitoring

You know it's bad when I give in and go to the doctor. Again. The question is do we research the cause of these headaches aggressively? Or continue to "manage" things. I seem to be all talk in front of the neurologist. Confident that I want them to figure this shit out. But when I get home and research the testing they would do, I must admit... It kinda  freaks me out.

Or is it just that I don't want them shaving part of my head. My hair is finally so beautiful and long. Do I sound crazy? Or the fact that I have no one to talk to about this. Or better yet, wouldn't tell anyone that I would be in Hopkins for three days with a catheter in my head. I know I can't blame people if they don't know. But the truth is I'm sad and I'm in pain. Yes, even strong, obnoxious me needs someone right now.  Someone to talk this through. Someone to hold my hand. Tell me everything will be ok and that this is the right step.

To help with my diagnosis. Am I in remission or not? Are these low pressure headaches? Cluster headaches? Migraines? Or is it just my occipital neuralgia? Maybe my shunt is draining too much. Or maybe I've just convinced myself in the shower that I'm being paranoid. It's the summer. I always feel sick in the summer. This will pass, come cooler weather. Or that I'm not taking care of myself. I'm stressed. I have trouble with food. With sleep. And all these things are affecting me. Causing my head to feel like an explosion will go off anytime I laugh, cough or sneeze. Totally normal, right? Or how about the nausea and the acid reflux. Do I sound attractive yet?

So you know what I do to make my life better? I went cold turkey. Stopped all my pills. I told the doctor that I have had enough. I need relief. I have always believed that quality of life is better than quantity. And no, don't assume that this is me being suicidal. I'm trying here. Get it? This is me making an effort. I do want to feel better. Even if there is no one around. No one that really notices me.

Side point, I finally did something good. And again, I told no one. Because that's me. Ms secretive. Living a silent life. But you know what? Fuck you all! I'm going to stress about this and figure it out on my own. Just like I always have. And when I figure it out. I'm going to make my own decision. And no one one will tell me what to do. And then I will make something of myself. And I will never look back.

Don't you love how I'm all talk. Now you know the truth. I'm one big fraud.

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

F....enough with the yiddish names

How horrible is it that I'm jealous. I only met you once. We hung out at a bar in the city years ago. A lifetime ago. I wasn't such a fan. But then again, how many people do I really like. That doesn't say anything about you. Probably says more about me.

I'm envious of your bravery. The fact that your plan worked. You showed everyone. You no longer have to face your demons. It is the world who has to now look for answers. Pretend to understand what your life was about. Everyone else feels pain now. You are finally pain free. Don't people get that. You are free.

Is it terrible that I am happy for you. Envious of you. Wish I was as brave as you. Wish I could take that final leap. Never look back. People can talk about how you were at the peak of your life. Making a difference. Doing so well. Yada Yada. What do they really know. No one understands. No one knows what's going on deep on the inside. The outside is one big facade. You put a face on so that people can be around you. But maybe you can't be around them.

Maybe you survived just the right amount. Maybe some people aren't meant to live a long full life. Maybe some of us have already lived too long. Does anyone ever consider that. Sometimes, a long life is not in the cards. Not desired. Not something to aspire to. Some of us live day by day. Hour by hour. Minute to minute. Every day that we wake up is a miracle. Is torturous to get up and face the day. Face the world. Because you don't belong. You don't want to be there.

So to you, I say congratulations. On finally graduating. From this life. From this world. From your misery. To everyone else. I will continue to say. You have no idea. No idea what a person is. What they are made up of. Who they really are. Don't try to understand after the fact. It's too late. You can look for answers. Try to place blame. But the blame should be internal.

Life is not for everyone.

Saturday, July 18, 2015


Once again it's July 18. This dreaded cursed day comes around every year. Taunting me. Haunting me. The details are slightly vague but the memories are there. They beat alongside my heart. Pulsating in my brain forever. Refusing to let me forget this day. I take a sleeping pill  but I couldn't sleep a full 24 hours. No chance at ignoring this crapday. No meals planned. No people to talk to. No family around. Alone as usual. Because that is my destiny. That is the life that I lead. The life of a nomad. Vanishing slowly. Day by day.

Friday, July 17, 2015


Why are you driving so god damn slow.
Head is going to explode all over your windshield.
Sometimes I wonder why thoughts only come to me while I'm driving. The windows are down and the music is loud and my hair is blowing in the wind. My mind just wanders and I can't stop thinking. Did I mentioned the my head is going to explode. Do you ever drive and think you're just going to crash. Drive over a bridge and land in the water. Do you ever imagine your own funeral. Does that make me crazy. Don't answer that. 
The pain just doesn't end. There is no relief. No sleep allowed. Pain from here til tomorrow. Random daydreams. Or are they night dreams. Because they happen at night. Sitting on a roof. With someone you don't want to be with. In a glass room that should be covered. With wall to wall newspaper clippings. But you are exposed. Doors everywhere. People walking in and out. No privacy. And you are waiting. No one gets you. They still don't get you. You have closed yourself in. Ostracized yourself. And you don't even care. Random people walk by in your dream. And they all wave. Some stare. And you could care less. You know what you are doing is wrong.
Anything to avoid the pain. You are sweating. Your sheets are wet. Your hair is tangled. Because everything hurts. There is no relief. Go to the emergency room. How will that even help. It's all in your head. You are one big crazy. You want it all to end. Pills. Overdose. You could go in many ways. Blood everywhere. It could be epic. But no one would appreciate it. Not as much as you. Only you would feel relief. Or even joy.
Admitted. Committed. Take me. Free me. Release me. Unleash me.
You win.