Sunday, November 14, 2010

My dream tells me to never meet you.

You invited me to visit for a few days.
Sure, this will be fun. We both know I have been crushing on you for awhile. I get on airplane and fly out the next day. I am excited, we have never met before. We meet at the airport, we hug and kiss. The cab ride to your house is quiet. We hold hands grinning at each other.

We walk in your house. You say you brought me here for a reason. There is a girl you know that’s perfect for me. She will be at this party tonight, and you want to go so I can meet her.

My crush high pops as I realize that I just spent all my extra money on a long distance blind date. I am bummed out, but fuck it, what am I going to do? We have dinner, I clean up and we head out.

It takes an hour to get to the party. You point out little interesting things in your city. I’m still bummed about you and me, but I am having a good time. You ask if anything is wrong. I tell you how I thought we were going to be together.  You say sorry, but it just would never work out between us.

We get to the party. Everyone is nice and friendly. They are surprised I flew out from LA this time of year. We go on like this for a half hour or so, fake small talk, pretending that you actually give a shit about each other knowing full well that you will never see each other again.

The girl that you want me to meet shows up, she’s cute. We chat for a few minutes. She says she will be right back. You look at me and say I told you so. Yeah, you were right, so far, so good.

The girl comes back and hands me a laptop. She says that she likes to get to know people online first, there is no pretention online, people feel less inhibited and are more likely to just be honest. I feel the same way. She goes to one side of the house and I go to the other. We chat for an hour or so.

People start leaving. She says she is staying there and that if I wanted to I could stay and hang out with her. You tell me to stay there.

Everyone leaves the party. The house is dark. I can’t find her. I find a note on a counter saying that it was nice to meet me, but she can’t go through with this and should probably just go home.

I see the light on in one room. I knock. Someone says come in. Two people are having sex. I say sorry and close the door. I have no idea where the hell I am. I try and find my phone. It’s sitting on your counter charging. I find a phone on the kitchen wall. I don’t remember your number.

I go to a bedroom and try to sleep. 

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

The hits keep coming.

In 2006 I lost my sense of smell. I was sick with the flu or something and it never returned. I went to a few doctors and was told I was making it up and that this could never happen. I finally found a doctor that believed me. He said it’s called Anosmia. It’s a sudden loss of the sense of smell. I can still taste food although things are a bit blander.
A few months ago I started getting these weird electrical wavy feeling shooting through my head. It felt like it was my brain would turn itself off and on again like it was resetting itself. I was taking anti-depressants at the time and figured it was a side affect. They got really bad. I stopped taking the drugs. The electric brain fades continued.
I started smelling things that weren’t there, garlic, onions, this sickingly sweet perfume. I asked my doctor about it, he suggested that I see a neurologist. I went today. He said I have the symptoms of either Parkinson’s, epilepsy or it could be a brain tumor.
My insurance does not pay for any of the test for these because of my age. Tomorrow I start the appeals process.
 In spite of this, I will remain upbeat and positive.
Wish me luck

Wednesday, August 25, 2010


Lately I have had this feeling of anticipation. Something is going to happen to me. I don't know if it's something good or bad, but something will happen. Things have been the same for far to long. This will change.

Friday, August 20, 2010

This is not a good day.

Things are fucked up, really fucked up right now. I’m getting unfairly evicted on false charges. I’ve don’t have the time or energy to fight them anymore. I don’t have the money to move out. It looks like I may be homeless for a few weeks.

I owed California $369 in taxes this year. I applied to make payments. I thought I applied to make payments. I checked the wrong box on the application. The state withdrew all the money at once. I made my car payment and rent payment at the same time. This resulted in every check I wrote going through with a $39 overdraft fee. Rent, phone, utilities, car payment, car insurance, child support, everything. I ended up $700 negative in my account. I’ve been able to crawl back up to negative $300, but I am stuck there perpetually negative $300.

I’m not asking for help, I’m not asking for pity. I got myself in this fucked up mess, and it’s my mess to clean up.

So, if you don’t hear from me for awhile, I’m in a fleabag motel or my car saving up the dough for an apartment.



Monday, August 16, 2010

Far away by my side

Saturday night I was lonely. I haven’t felt that way in a long time. It wasn’t a sad type of lonely; more like I wish someone was here to enjoy this movie with me lonely. I don’t get that way too often. I’ve worked hard on being alone and happy. For the most part, I am enjoying my time alone. I can do whatever I want when I want and answerer to no one. I took my happy alone self to a movie yesterday. I’ve never done that before. It was a little strange at first, but in the end it was ok. I’m still wont eat at restaurants alone or go to concerts alone. I won’t be visiting any amusement parks by myself anytime soon, but I am getting used to being alone and comfortable.

For the most part, seeing couples still bums me out. I think to myself, I miss that. I don’t regret my decision not to date or see anybody. I don’t want to be with the wrong person just because I don’t want to be alone. I thought I was ready earlier to start dating again, but I was wrong. For now, I’ll be happy on my own with the people that I love far away and by my side.

Mental health note:

I’m starting to feel like me again. Stopping the Lithium was the right choice.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Did you forget to take your meds?

No, I stopped taking them. Before you give me any crap about it, remember that it’s my life, my body and I will do what I see fit. The Lithium helped get me through a really rough time, but that’s over now. I’m getting tired of pretty much being like this--------- all of the time. I’m either meh or down with a rare high moment. The side effects are starting to get to me. I can’t sleep because I’m up every hour to go to the bathroom. I always have cotton mouth. I lost any creativity I had. I lost all desire to do anything really.

That’s no way to live. I will accept my lows knowing that they will have their compliment of highs. The next few days are going to be weird as the medications wear off; I am going to be all emotional and erratic. I’ve done this before so I know what to expect.

I will be OK. Don’t give me any shit because of this please.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Things will never be the same.

I was either 6 or 7. I don’t really know. I remember we lived in San Pedro on 23rd street. The only places to play were the cemetery or a construction area across the street. We decided to go to the construction site. Earlier we had watched the workers throwing hunks of broken concrete into a dumpster. After they left for the day we thought we’d help out and throw the rest away for them. We started throwing the pieces away, neither one of us paying any attention to whose chunk went where. Glass shattered, we stopped. My friend ran away. I started to, but someone grabbed my by my collar.

This hysterical woman was yelling at me, calling me murderer and shaking the hell out of me. She dragged me to her house, and into a bedroom. In the room was a crib. A baby of a couple months was in the crib with a giant chunk of concrete on top of it. The baby wasn’t moving. Blood was splattered around the baby. “You killed him You fucker!” She kept shaking me. She took me to the living room and shoved me on a couch. I was crying, asking for my parents. “You’re not going anywhere but jail.”

The police, fire department and an ambulance showed up. The police asked me who I was with. I told them my friend’s name. The officer asked if I knew my phone number. I gave it to him. He picked me up and took me to his car. He told me my mom and dad will meet me at the police station, and to stop crying, it will all be ok.

My friend was at the police station when I got there. We went into different rooms and talked to different officers. They wanted to know how this happened. I told them. The police decided that there was know way of knowing whose piece of concrete went through the window. It was decided that we were too young to prosecute, and that it was just a terrible accident. The baby’s parents showed up. We both said we were sorry. The father seemed to accept the apology, but I have never before or after seen such intense hatred in someone’s eyes. The mom kneeled down in front of us, put one arm around each of us and said “Both of you will pay for this.”

My parents showed up. My dad said “Come on, it’s over lets go home.” My mom didn’t say a word. That night she came into my room. She sat on my bed and told me that I am going to hell for being a murderer. She said that she can’t love me anymore because I am a murderer. I wasn’t allowed to be anywhere my baby sister. No one in the neighbor hood would play with me. Nobody would talk to my parents anymore. At school, the kids would whisper and point at me.

After two months of this we moved. We didn’t have any money so we moved into a travel trailer that was parked near the harbor in a dirt lot. At night a group of Mexican guys would drink in the lot. We were scared. Mom said this is my fault, and that she will be forever punished by god for giving birth to a murderer.

I think about that baby a lot covered in broken glass, blood and concrete lying there still in that crib. I think of the mothers eyes burning through me. I think of the hatred in her eyes. I think of my mother’s hatred. I think of my father’s indifference. I think of the faces of those Mexican men peering into the trailer. I think that at that exact moment, I realized things will never be the same.