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.

Anesthetic

Sleepless night

Early morning

6:30 am

Phone calls

Secretaries

Waiting

Blood test results

Traffic

Higjway

Underground parking

Building maze

Glass walls

10:30 am

Vitals 

Heart rate 

Med list 

Risks 

Stomach 

Clean back 

Shot 

Local anesthetic 

Numb

Waiting 

Lumbar puncture 

CSF

Isotope

Dye

Bandaid

Lie flat

2 hours 

Oxygen 

Blood pressure

Boredom

Uneasiness 

Elevated slowly 

Wheelchair 

Basement 

Nuclear medicine 

1:30 pm

Table 

Images 

5 minutes

Suffocation

Surrounded 

Bikur Cholim room

Potato bureka

5 year old 

Lakewood 

5:00 pm

Table 

Repeat images 

Tech 

Unknown

Traffic 

Side roads 

Home 

Sore 

Nauseous 

6:13 am

Train 

Circling hospital 

Basement 

Table 

Scans 

8:00 am

Home 

Headache 

Sleep

Work

5:30 pm

Nausea 

Puke 

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.

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.

Begging

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. 

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.