Today has been one of those shit-filled days, those days when I don’t want to be here or anywhere. I say filled with shit because that’s how my head feels. Stuffed and ready to pop. I’ve got all sorts negativity churning inside of me and nothing is digesting well. I hope I can metaphorically vomit this shit out. In attempts to, here I am writing.

***

I was awaked by a call from my love earlier. I’ll call him, the loverface, V. Vet because I met him at a veterinary clinic where he works as a vet tech. So anyway, he calls me around noon and wakes me. I wake with a big smile because I love hearing from him. I get lost in his voice. There’s nothing more reassuring to me than to hear from the person I’m romantically involved with when I first wake. And not only am I romantically involved with this guy, I am madly in love. This is terrifying. I spent two years in my previous relationship (this was while I was in hiatus from blogging) and it didn’t work out in the end. The end, which happened in June of last year, was as painful as breakups can be. Considering that I have Borderline Personality Disorder however, I’m quite proud of myself for not falling into the deep end. Said previous relationship was the most stable one I’d had, but it ended just as quickly as it started. Maybe I didn’t really love him? I would ask myself

This guy though. Sigh. It is different with him. He reminds me too much of Monkey Man. We have a deep connection that I didn’t have with my ex. And I’ve never fallen in love so soon, even with Monkey Man I didn’t fall so soon. Love can be as scary as it is uplifting. I’m sure you know this from your own experience. When you’ve loved someone who died from addiction, it is even scarier–terrifying–to then fall in love with someone else who also struggles with addiction. Yup. This is the case with my current fella. V. Vet is an alcoholic. He’s tole me all about it. He’s mostly sober now, or “in recovery” as I like to tell myself or he likes to tell me. That’s always my reassurance when I get doubt. He’s in recovery P. He says he doesn’t want to be the way he used to be P.

“You inspire me to be a better person,” he says. He always says.

***

Well, that wake up call today was not only literal. I see it as a metaphor now. See, he sounded off from the start of our talk. The conversation he lead was annoying the shit out of me. We’re both very excitable people so we tend to interrupt each other a lot, but today I knew he was off, more so than usual. Not only did he interrupt me more, but he just sounded beside himself. One thing to keep in mind is that he also struggles with mental health problems–psychosis and such–so it could be that he was having some sort of episode.

But… My intuition tells me otherwise. Our intuitions are carriers of truth, so I know my intuition doesn’t lie.

After that irritating conversation which I ended up with me in tears, I just hung up. “I’ll just call you back later,” I whimpered, “I can’t talk right now.”

I shoved myself out of bed and started my day. The day dragged from bleh-heh to fuckin bleugh. Everything sucks bleugh. All feelings escalated; the feelings of irritation turned into rage and then melancholy turned into depression. I wanted to lie in bed and cry all day. Then, around 3:00, I called him back. No ring. It went straight to voicemail. I did this two more times in the following two hours and it went the same: “… Please leave your message after the tone.”

Now this isn’t the first time it happened. Here’s where I begin to worry. He already sounded loopy earlier, I haven’t heard from him the rest of the day, AND when I dial his number it goes straight to voicemail. WTF. I tried to control my catastrophic thinking and replace all of the extreme situations I envisioned with to more positive or rational possibilities.

****

I was lying in bed just wanting to disappear when my dad called me to eat dinner. I reluctantly rolled my ass over there. I was hungry and shaky so it was a relief to finally eat. Just as I was beginning to eat, I got a call from V Vet. Ugh. Bad timing. But… FINALLY! Wait, he sounds even more fucked up that he did earlier. What’s going on? Could it be that he’s drunk?

My heart sank in further. While he babbled I decided to confront him and just simply ask, “Are you drunk?”

“No.”

“Have you been drinking?”

“No I haven’t,” he replied again with a mumbling and almost slurring roll.

“I want to believe you but I don’t,” I said.

That’s when the conversation ended. Two conversations ended with me crying today. Sigh. By this point I had left the dinning room and was in the bathroom crying. I figured I’d just get in the tub and take a shower to calm myself down. I didn’t want anyone to notice how upset I’d gotten. I cried and washed my hair. Then cried some more and washed my face. I paused to lather my body with soap only to cry again as the water washed off the soap. Once I was dry and dressed, I reached out to a friend who I knew would understand. We texted back and forth for a while. Whew. I just may not explode. I even practiced diaphragmatic breathing. Now on to blogging P. That should help too. Keep it up! Use all of your arsenal woman! YES! I’m using my skills! 

And… just as was in the middle of writing this post, I got a third call from him. Let me just say it wasn’t very pretty and I’m still feeling shitty.

I’m left wondering, if he’s good for me the way I am for him? I know what’s good for me. I love him. I also know what I need to do right by me. I’ll have to figure this one out. Le sigh again. It’s not easy and it’s making the trigeminal neuralgia pain flare.

****

Here’s to a shitty day turned into a shitty night. I can hear the thunderstorm outside and all I want to do is run out in the rain. Maybe I’ll get lucky and be hit by lightning.

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My life seems to be at a turning point again, and perhaps that’s why I find myself sitting here in front of my laptop typing away while reassessing my current path. It’s been two years since I posted anything on this here blog. I miss this haven, this little corner of my universe where I could release what stirred within me.

***

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There was, for a while at least, a period when my life’s pieces were falling into place, the puzzle started making a clear picture and I liked the mosaic of colors surrounding me. I had a job working at a community college. I had a boyfriend who I’ll cal CB. That developed into a stable and serious relationship–until it ended two years in of course, but more on that later. I also began to develop a relationship with my brother. I was still in therapy which was consistent and proved to still be helpful. As a result, I was fighting less with my aging father whom I depended on so much (and still do to an extent).

In sum, my life was filling up quickly. I was stuck with so much to do that I simply wasn’t able to sit down to write. And that was fine. I was ok with that. Otherwise, I would’ve made the time.

This isn’t to say I still didn’t deal with what we’ll call borderline symptoms or just the everyday struggles life brings us. This doesn’t mean that the Pretty Little Demons didn’t make an appearance every so often. Not at all. It doesn’t mean that I had a few minor crisis moments. I had my ups and downs, but none like the previous years. Depression would come and stare at me from time to time, but I was able to stare back and roll away. I was able to walk away from most things that weren’t allowing me to have peace. Hey! No suicide attempts at least. Ha!

Work had its moments. The boyfriend and I had our moments. My old cranky dad and I had our moments, my bro and I still had our fights and so on. Since I last posted, I broke some more bones, had a series of three surgeries, won a TV award, bought a new ukulele, became the neighborhood crazy cat lady, broke up with my boyfriend, quit my job and am now in a new, promising romantic relationship…

******

What the hell am I getting at? Mouse! Wake up. Wait… Oh yeah. I am now more resolved than ever to continue my writing. I had a great conversation with a friend a few days ago and the urge to speak up is rising again. It has been rising in the last two years since I left the blogosphere. But now I feel its pull. The words are present. I also have more time since I’m technically still an unemployed mouse.

Oh sweet moments of life come and go. These last two years have been full of them. The sweet moments continue between the painful ones as I know they will. I know. Asi es la vida.

Well, sleep is beckoning me. More later.

Mouse Love

Mouse tries to shoot Cupid

© MMM/PAZ 2014

****

Maybe I didn’t say that right.

Yeah, it didn’t come out right. I think I meant to say, “FUCK YEAH CUPID!”

So I’m sorry Cupid. Sorry.

I just…uugh… old habits die hard. You know? Listen. Listen, I never hated you, really. I just grew up bitter about the whole thing, you know? Being “in love” is really weird. It’s weird like I’m having an out of body experience, like I’m having one of those dereealization moments continually. Yeah, those who have postraumatic stress know derealization well enough.

See, I never liked Valentine’s Day and, well, today is that so-called day. BLEEEUUUUGH. AT LEAST in Colombia, my birthplace, we call this day El Día del Amor y la Amistad (Day of Love and Friendship) and we celebrate it sometime in September… I think. That’s more fitting to my taste and beliefs and whatnot.

Anyway, shit I don’t mean to get off course. See, I’m not sure if you had anything to do with it or not Sir Cupid, but either way, this “falling in love” thing is actually happening. It happened with Monkey Man, but that was chaotic–falling in and out and in and out all while wanting to blow my brains out.

****

I rejected it. THIS. BEING. “IN LOVE.”  I rejected it so much and nearly sabotaged any possibility of giving “love” a chance when it came around the corner last August.

I did.

But… I was in therapy! I AM in therapy. And shit does that help.

Fuck Valentines! Happy Day of Love and Friendship everyone.

And HAPPY FULL MOON! I love you. So so high, so full and yellow and bright…

Mouse Love

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.

****

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.

****

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.

****

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.

****

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).

****

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.

This blog, like my other works, is a child of mine. It has been nourished from my mental umbilical cord. It is a living and breathing document of my life for over a year, one of which I had crashed again and nearly burned to ashes. I’m past the tragedies of 2012, but I’m also aware that they will never be erased from my memory no matter how much I want them to be sometimes.

****

How do I feel about my blog thus far? I feel like it has matured. It may well be a teenager; I can feel safe letting it wander on its own. It found a community, a family of friends; It has an extended family , one is called A Canvas of the Minds, a blog that allows those chronicling issues of their personal mental health experiences and general inquiries about mental health. And I do not know where the course of my blog (read: its little life) would be now without you readers or Canvas.

I don’t have to feed it, my little Melancholically Manic Mouse, any longer. I think this is one reason I have stopped posting as often as I used to (that, and my other life got in the way meheh).

********

Like all living things in life, it will eventually reach its end, it’s death to ashes in the Earth. But for the time being, it will be here and continue living.

It’s not saying goodbye forever, not just yet. No fuckin’ way.

mouse love.

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addendum:  How do you feel about your blog’s life?

Positive Affirmations

August 16, 2013

iphone rambles ©paz 2013

iphone rambles ©paz 2013

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My 5 a.m. rambles from last night’s hypomanic induced sleeplessness.

Process of a Portrait

August 14, 2013

Hello!

Meeeeow. Or squeeel or whatever noise melancholicallymanic mouses make. Most of the PLDs (Pretty Little Demons) are out on vacation so they can’t make much noise, at least not where I van hear.

********

So… As per my recent blogging habit, I’m actually going to be writing another post as I listen to Amy Winehouse while I actually share a post written started several months ago. It’s a drawing of—oh, AMY!

Why do I love Amy’s words, voice, vibrance of soul? Why do I find her so dear? Well, I think we could share a thing or two about our past troubles. Her voice spoke for me when I was mute, much like many of my favorite artists, especially female artists. Hold on to that note, that pencil, that piano love. It is what art does. It speaks. Or spits.

I did this one back in March or… April-ish I believe.

Sorry that the last pic is a bit blurry.

Mouse love!

I Dreams In Colors

July 28, 2013

Hello?

Hello… hello …hellooooooooooooo.

I’m still here. Yessuh.

Is anyone still here?

Hello?

********

I promise I haven’t been in a coma and I’m not dead yet (neither is Dotty FYI). Where have I been? What have I been doing?

Well, obviously I’m not blogging. It’s been so long since I’ve blogged that I forgot my password a few weeks ago! (Yes I still log in to read some of your blogs occasionally). Anyway, I PANICKED! When does P not panic you may ask… Well, fuck, I didn’t NOT panic the day I logged in and couldn’t remember my password–had to go through the cumbersome ordeal of resetting my password and all.

Fortunately enough, I have a bank account now and I used the bank account password as my new WP password.

Fuck, where was I going?

Oh yeah, it’s 3am and the weekend. I’ve spent a lot of my time working lately, not just AT WORK, but even at home. Call me busy bee, or busy P or whatnot.

So, on my time off, I’ve been drawing again instead of blogging. These last couple of weeks I’ve been slacking off on the daily sketches. I was lying here, trying to get myself to bed, just puffing up my pillows, when I decided to doodle Little Luna from memory.

Maybe I’ll post some of the sketches I did last month and the one before and the one before that. I’ve just got too much to say and not enough time. Some not-so-nice things and some very, very nice things.

I’ve got a new “art” blog going, though I haven’t been updating on that one either. And I’m working on my website. Still in therapy, still swimming (even though I had to stop for a month).

I guess you could say I’m fairing well, mostly.

Night night.

Mouse love

Luna Sketch

“I dreams in color”
pen and ink © paz 2013