YAY!

Yesterday I got to work from home again. Again, the weather dropped to the 30’s degrees F. Something all Houstonians aren’t accustomed to: schools being closed due to winter storms and sleet (tiny tiny sleet). Considering that I hurt my fractured rib coughing yet AGAIN, this was a good thing for me.

Houston’s weather has always been what I call “bipolar” in the winter, but this year it’s flipping so fast it’s like rapid cycling and the changes are as volatile as the dysregulated emotions of a person diagnosed with borderline personality disorder/emotional dysregulation disorder.

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I took plenty of naps, risked a few minutes of my dad yelling at me for going out in the cold while I’m just getting over my cold to get these quick shots on my phone. I took some time to pamper myself and make sure I took my Mucinex for the cough and snot and whatnot.

Today I was off. Went to orthopedics for my fucked-up bone situation, hopefully the topic of my next post.

And… I’m being all girly with this glittery nail polish. I usually HATE glitter but I love this! Life feels good. I’m in a strange, uncharted territory. Le smile, le worry look, le sigh.

It’s 30 degrees this very moment but I’m in my room having cold sweats with muscle rub spread all over my ribs and back. Stinky and sweaty and achy. Ugh.

But alas, I’m in love. And love makes things more tolerable, makes the body stronger.

Well, looks like I’m going back to work on campus tomorrow to shoot an art gallery opening and do all the other things that I do and do not do. Better catch some zzzzzzzz.

Fuck you cold weather! Ted

Fuck you cold weather!

Mouse love,

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HOLY SHITBALLS! The last time I wrote a “Borderline Girl Song” series post was over a year ago… I had to search my own entries list HERE to figure out what number I left off at.

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AHEM.

I’m coughing and hacking greenish gooey phloem still, and I’m crackin bones in the process, yet I’m high high high HIGH or hypo hypo hypo or both! Yes, both. Same shit, sort of. I’m high on life and speedy typing (NOT Speed). I was crying non stop last weekend. Been giggling and singing all morning. Emotional dysregulation any? Just a bit.

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Anyway, I’m high. And content, relatively happy. Fuck. I’ll just say it: In this moment I am happy. (That’s lyrics from an Incubus song FYI)

I’m high on life… and cold medicine,  antibiotics for the N1F1 flu that upperecutted me three weeks ago, and half a hydrocodone for my cracked rib (yes I broke a rib coughing, maybe two), and dare I say I’m also high on LOVE…

Pretty Little Demons: Love? Like “romantic love”?

P/Mouse: YES!

I can’t even hear myself say or phantom the thought but, but, but (breathes), I may be falling in love with someone. This person “asked me out” back in August. (I hate the term dating by the way). That’s one of the reason I’ve gone MIA here on Bloggieland. Too busy with the boyfriend and work.

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Falling in love… maybe. Falling in love may be. Falling in love, falling, falling in love. 🙂

I’m sitting here on my bed covered in icy-hot muscle rub, Vicks vapor rub and pillows; three socks, bandage on my right leg, an orange wool scarf, and a laptop on my legs writing to you. I’m writing to tell you that people with Borderline Personality Disorder (or whatever they call it these days) can remain stable for–well, I’ve been relatively stable for a good while now and I’m busy in my “real life”, so I haven’t been able to complete a single post I begin. Started a few, but then had to go do this or that or him. heee.

Cup with spilled ice

Better Cancel School

It was 30 degrees fahrenheit  out this morning and it rained all day yesterday so we have sleet. Amber Alerts were sent and schools were closed. Truth is, the sleet melted by noon. We Houstonians can’t handle a little snow or ice. P Mouse is fine with that ’cause I get to work from home today and I ain’t going out in no cold while recovering from a cold in my wheelchair. 🙂 YAYUH.

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Anyway, where was I? Oh da song. This week’s Borderline Girl Song post is Dido’s “Thank You”.

I thank him, the guy mentioned above, for having the courage to tell me he had feelings for me/a crush or whatnot. I’m thankful for giving him a chance. I’m thankful that I gave him a chance because therapy helped me help myself give him a chance. And. Here. I. Am. Thankful for being alive, even though shit still pisses me off and I have my low moments (don’t think recovery is like that, I don’t).

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In my next post, I’ll tell you who this mystery man is. He’ll be introduced, I promise. I was writing his introduction on Monday actually–on Reverend Martin Luther King Day–but as I just said, I keep getting cut off to do this or that or him. In this case it was him. Too much info? 🙂 Then that evening, my dad and his friend interrupted… No, no, no I’m not explaining myself right. In other words:

On Monday, MLK day, I spent all day with HIM (mystery love) at his place, then that evening when I was back home, I logged on WP and started writing a post, which I will post tomorrow.

Sigh.

Well, here’s my song for this series. I dedicated this to him the other day.

I went to therapy today. We’re back on our regular Thursday schedule. I told my dad I’d take the bus but he said I was so humble about it that he would drive me there. We didn’t argue this time!

My next assignment for therapy is to work on logging down my interactions with my pops so we can debrief the next session. I told her about the nightmares I’ve been having. They pop up every other night. In my dream last night–or this morning rather–I was getting severely beaten. I won’t say by who. Luna heard me wake up screaming and rushed into the room with ears turned back. The fluff ball jumped on me and we cuddled. She’s so good to me.

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Brunet Young is helping me get into a DBT group that should start in January. She found an outpatient DBT program, but it’s too many hours–it’s outpatient, almost inpatient and I no longer need to be outpatient (funny, when I needed it, I couldn’t get it). So she’s looking for a less intensive program. She’s also seeing if I can get into an animal shelter as a volunteer! It will be yet another support system to implement my therapy.

What else? I pulled a muscle this morning while rushing to the restroom. I think I’ll still go swimming tonight though; Mouse and I haven’t decided. Besides, no broken bones from yesterday evening’s fall is good enough for me.

I admit though, I shaved off my Movember Mousestache. It was getting real fuckin’ itchy. Anyway, here’s what I shot on my way back from therapy.

2012 (c) paz
Houston’s downtown.
Shot from the west-side of 59 with the HTC phone my bro’s girlfriend gave me.

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For being the fourth largest city in the United States, we don’t have a very impressive downtown. Most of the buildings are scattered about like leaves in clusters, each cluster miles apart from the other. There is the medical center which is a downtown of its own, then there is uptown and midtown. I think if you combine the three, you’d have a hell of a downtown, but otherwise, it’s puny.

But this weather is nice. It was around 50F this morning and now it’s 68F. Beautiful.

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Personally, Main Street downtown is very pretty since a lot of the buildings there are nineteenth-century and early twentieth century art-deco. Mostly though, there are just plain sixties and seventies post modern blocks with faceless facades. Houston grew with the baby boomers of the ’50s, the development of 1950s inter-state highway system and oil boom. There you go.

Mouse love

Obsolete

October 7, 2012

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These are a few photos I took a couple of weeks ago on the bus stop near my side of town. I was heading to therapy, and seeing the phone booth and empty newspaper stands made me want to shoot ’em–with me camera lens that is. I actually had my Nikon D-70 on me that day, so voila. You don’t see these around much nowadays.

The last picture kind of sucks. So pardon my mediocrity. I’m not a photographer. I’m simply a mental midget with a somewhat fancy camera, a vagabond, a non-poet that can sometimes write versus and sing and make people laugh though she herself is crying.

Life’s been better these days though, and I’m really laughing on the inside as well as the outside. 🙂 The PLDs are mostly at bay.

Stay tuned.

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p.s. Monkey Bee says don’t try any FUCKIN’ tricks with the phone booth shots!

love from the Mouse

Last Thursday I meant to write about my trip to therapy but I got distracted by the insanity of Le Clown’s blogroll contest. I now have to go to rehab for WP addiction. (It was fun though Le Clown, it really was.)

Anywho, I did take pictures of my trip to therapy last week. Again, it was with my crappy Nokia 5230 (it’s not THAT crappy). I had a lovely ride. It was a gorgeous day–one of those days where you feel the Houston heat and humidity suffocating you. “Asphyxiate on this, suckas!” says the southern Sun. You know, like the living in a sweaty armpit metaphor I used a while back? Yeah, it was one of those armpit living days.

I was all ready for therapy, ready to bitch and moan. But I ended up taking the bus late. I arrived at Wheeler station (near downtown) and realized, I wasn’t going to make it on time.

Wheeler Station. You can see downtown in the background.  (c)paz/mmm

Some people carry umbrellas ’cause it’s so damn hot.  Someone should’ve told him it’s a stupid idea to carry a BLACK umbrella since black absorbs more heat, but I wasn’t the asshole to do it.

Once I got to Wheeler Station, I arrived at the MetroRail train heading downtown towards the downtown transit center. I hopped in the northbound train.

The lady in the striped dress helped me out when I nearly got crushed by the sliding doors. Had I not been in my wheelchair, I could’ve been sawed in half (not really, but the image is striking, isn’t it?).

Once I arrived at the downtown transit center and REALLY did get hit by the sliding door, I ran into the lady with the dress again. I also ran into another lady with a baby in a stroller. I wanted to take a picture but was too shy. I also didn’t want attitude; lady looked like she had attitude and might of said something like, “Da hell ya takin’ a pict-sha of my babey fo’?!”

So I just let his sleeping, curly-haired cuteness be.

I had to cross Main Street to get to the transit center and as I did that, I noticed there were cops arresting this dude off on the right parking lot. So I quickly took out my phone and thought to myself, “this is blog material, must take photo now before the cops see”. I think they still noticed I was taking a picture of them.

But get this, lady in the striped dress runs next to me saying, “Girl, you can’t be tweetin’ and crossin’ the street at the same time! Come on now!” I was about to say that I was actually takin’ a picture of the cops and that I don’t even have a Twitter account or internet on my phone to begin with. But I just nodded at her. She did save my life earlier.

The cops noticed I was taking a picture anyway. Damn! Oh wells… Can you see the three feet high perspective I got going on?

As I waited for my last bus (yes, I take a bus, a train and another bus), I called the university psychology research and services clinic to tell them I’d be running “about fifteen minutes late”. Ha! They should know I’m terrible and guesstimating time.

Yeah, I really fucked up on this one. I was trying to be covert about my picture taking, but the lady saw me anyway. That’s why my hand came out in the picture. Fuck!

And here’s where I make my social commentary. The majority of the people that take the bus in the area where I live are 1) latino, 2) black, 3) asian. I wonder why? *cough*

When you get to the university, you only see black folks on the bus because the university is near a historically black part of town called Third Ward (my dad thought it was Third World; he can’t understand English that well). It’s a poor area. But I love it in many ways.

I live in the far southwest side though, so I don’t get much of Third Ward anymore. I did when I was living at the university, but now that I’m back with my old folks, I don’t. Well, I do when I go to therapy now. And downtown, near the oil towers, it is a little different. You see a lot of nurses and businessmen–mainly white–and a grand ethic mix is only off to the side.

It’s funny how little certain things have changed. Third Ward is still poor and black. Downtown oil towers are still run by old, rich men.

This is the part where half a dozen pigeons begged me to feed them. I was ready to take AMAZING, head-exploding photos (because that’s what I do), but my damn phone ran out of battery juice. So I was left picture-less and the pigeons where left hungry.

Turns out I got to therapy 40 minutes late! Forty minutes for a fifty minute session! That’s nearly an hour-and-a-half bus ride. Needless to say, we had to reschedule for tomorrow. I won’t be late this time! I’ll tell you though, I used up those ten minutes like never before. It’s a good thing I’ve been hyped, ’cause I was able to bitch and moan a mile a minute.

I didn’t completely loose my trip to the uni though. I went to the student center and signed up in line at the academic records to get my transcript for the DACA application (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals) I’m filling out for immigration. They withheld it because I still owe the Debt Collector Mafia two thousand dollars. 😦 Fuck you bill collectors! Let me get my transcripts!

So I zipped my little ass over to the law clinic–where I’m getting free legal advice (YEAH! YEAH!)–and I asked about the lawyer. I schedule for today. So after this, I shall be getting ready to go see the lawyer. Wish me luck.

Ooooh, and who’s the lovely lady you ask? It’s none other than the magnificent Ringmistress (aka Sara Draws) over at Laments and Lullabies. It’s her birthday today and I dedicate these photos to her. 😉

These less-than-mediocre photos are for you lovely lady! Happy barfday! (don’t barf too much now)

Mouse love

I decided to start taking pictures on my way to therapy. These are a few I’ve taken in the last two weeks. I’ll have to take my actual, semi-pro camera out next time instead of using my old phone.

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I’m the one on the far right. And that baby has no body. hmmmrph

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Click to see the gallery.

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As I waited for the bus to the university, I read this passage from Woman Hollering Creek by Sandra Cisneros:

“Because those who suffer have a special power don’t they? The power of understanding someone else’s pain. And understanding is the beginning of healing.”

Le Police de Texas

August 11, 2012

Here’s to trying to get involved again. Trying. Just trying. (More like just going along for the ride Mansie gave me so I could get out and see people I once knew.)

Meh. This can be added as an attempt in a part of my “Goals for Therapy,” if you remember.

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I took this photo at the protest I went to, two–or was it three–weeks ago? It was to raise the downtown office janitors’ wages which is terrible in Houston. There were other issues involved in the protest (think 99% and 1% Wall Street), but the main issue here was the janitors, which are mainly Latino immigrants. Many organizations and such were involved. It was my first protest in over a year, and I met a beautiful tattooed Brazilian girl that day.

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There were four cops on horses in every street corner. There were also many arrests. Wish I wouldn’t ‘a shopped off the beautiful horses’ feet though. And who knew cop cars, horses and a couple hundred protesters could make so much ear-bleeding noise! I wanted to chop my bloody ears off, Van Gogh style.


Taken with my crappy Nokia camera phone. (Yeah, I forgot my awesome Nikon that day! Fuckin’ anxiety.)

Whiskers and Lashes

June 26, 2012

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I thought about writing another one of my Good Lists today (I swam 14 laps today), but I found the slideshow option instead! So… here’s little Luna, yet again! (I know. I know. But she looks so calm, quiet, assertive and pensive in these.)

I’m also too tired to actually write any of the ideas that keep milling around my head. If I could just catch one and sit down with it!

Hypomania has been knocking on my door even though I put the Pretty Little Demons (PLD’s) to bed on Friday. Many of them slept all night and all through the weekend. Most of them behaved all weekend, which is incredible; it was the most stable weekend I’ve had in… I don’t know, but it was nice!

And today I want to live! hahah. Isn’t that great?!

Fuckin’ A. It’s amazing! Yes, it’s amazing to want to live! It’s amazing to not have urges to kill yourself creep up and tear at you every ten minutes.

Better knock on wood now.

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Then today, for the third time in the last two weeks, my dad tells me that I am a different person: “You’re still P, but you’re a different person. You’re more understanding, not as angry, more affectionate…” and he went on.

Hmmm? I think that means therapy had been helping, no? The meds? (meh) Oh, the swimming!?

I have many thoughts on this but I’ll leave it there for now.

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Oh, speaking of therapy, yesterday was my first day back in therapy at the university, but I didn’t even get to have a session.

I had planned  a trip with the MetroLift and the MetroLift mini-bus was late (yet again), only this time it was hella late. I had scheduled my appointment with the New NEW therapist at 7:00 in the evening because she will be at a seminar deal all of this week and, in an effort to get together ASAP, I’d settled for seven on Monday. Well, MetroLift got me there at 7:45 instead. I only had time to meet her and reschedule.

I had gotten myself so pumped, I mean mentally pumped for that session and it all crumbled like burning paper in my hands.

I may write about it if I get the time tomorrow or sometime this week, but I don’t know. I’ll see. One of the reasons I want to is because there are some DBT skills I want to share in regards to that ordeal–basically, I want to share how I kept myself relatively cool, or in other words, how I kept myself from falling completely apart again. It involves little Luna, her little whiskers and swimming.

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I do have a Borderline Girl Song post I wrote last week but was too embarrassed to publish it. Shit, I better post it now since I mentioned it.

It’s about a fella named Dusty.

*photos are © 2012 PAZ/MMM*