Dear Hearts, (150 posts! Does that mean I'm like sorta a real writer?)
I coulda done this today but I had absolutely nothing to do today so I just leaned into and napped, talked to Mom, and listened to the last segment of the Bible Study. So my goal is to keep this at half an hour
What happened to Faerie Kate? The Kate who wore wings and believed in faeries, unicorns, other worlds, the paranormal?
I think she died of an overdose in December 2014. But, Her house is still full of her life that reflects the Faerie Kate.
Was it the OD? Divorce? T.? Disability? Depression? Wanting to die?
In this last segment of the Bible Study—the short of it is that God has this intricate plan. Fuck, I hope so. There has to be a reason for all this or else I am gonna just put some Visine in a strawberry milkshake and call it a life.
Yes, I learned that one can kill himself with Visine. Did not know that.
I had the Motherfucker of all episodes last night. I mean spasms and clenching teeth. It hurt. If anyone had seen me—he would have taken me to the hospital. Mom, who talked me through it on the phone, said she remembers how she sat with me through so many. The ECT took a lot of those memories away.
Maybe the ECT killed Faerie Kate—shocked the Magick and Whimsy right out of her.
This Goddamn light next to be is supposed to be a three-way—but I only have a 100-watt bulb and it’s fucking bright. Okay, turned it off. Better. So now it is just me and my laptop sitting in the dark. I think Angel is curled up on my bed.
Last night’s episode. I was scared—I wanted to lose consciousness just to be not present for it. The worst of it only went on for 15 minutes, so that is something…
Last night I looked up the Ex-boyfriends and husband online. Why? I dunno. I don’t know what I want. I want to see that the Sociopath is suffering. He doesn’t seem to be. In fact, the DOD tried to tap him! ROTFLMAS! Yeah, the DOD wants high school dropouts with criminal records. His eyes were the same—dead, evil. He seems so fucking happy—but he is a better liar than T. I saw T. with Cinderella at her confirmation. He looked the same. Like the drunk I knew.
There was good with Asshole. I have dreamt of him twice now—I want to talk to him. What do I want? Closure, I guess.
I am really ending my life in Henry. That is so fucking terrifying. TERRIFYING. SCARY. ALARMING. PETRIFYING. CHILLING. (The thesaurus is good for some things.) I don’t even have a word for what closing up my life in Henry feels like.
Aunt Faerie says I will be returning to SOMETHING. The Holy City. That’s true…but…
I am remembering the tender times with Asshole. The past is surrounding me like Prufrock's yellow fog.
I am committing myself to volunteering every Sunday starting in June at Burning Bed from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. Heather wish it could be paid. Ideally, she would like to have me three days a week part-time. I think that would be good.
But that also gives me pause. Tomorrow, I have to leave the house. Pie Day and then covering the desk at Burning Bed from 5 p.m. till 8 p.m. I don’t wanna.
I know I cannot stay at The House alone. If I do, I will kill myself. There I said it.
This whole post is ten different ways to Sunday disjointed.
I finished this drawing of wolves—I want to color them not realistic colors, but I’m afraid. Why? Why can’t I have a pink or purple wolf? Faerie Kate woulda.
Aunt Faerie was validating all the words of confidence Heather gave me about wanting me to come and work at Burning Bed. Whatever.
I am afraid to hope. I am afraid to live.
I’m not afraid to die.
No, Mom, I am not suicidal.
Twenty minutes. I just had to get all this stuff out of me. I want a cigarette. Not yet…
I want to believe in Fairytales again.
Smoke ‘em if ya’ got ‘em. God Bless
In the name of The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; Mother Mary, Saint Brigid; Saint Jude; Saint Therese Lisieux; Saint Peter; Archangel Michael, and my Guardian Angel, Jed.
Grateful For:
Health
Angel
Naps
Family
No major episode today
Will anybody ever love me, as a woman, again?
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