Wednesday, February 16, 2005

today's feelings

it's february 16th and i feel many feelings at once. i feel angry and stressed and sad and hurt and tired. my mind is racing a bit. i have to come to work everyday but somedays i can't think enough and i can't begin to get things done i want to do. my hands and feet get weird and shaky.

i feel angry about people who do things to hurt the people they don't like. people who lie and tell stories just to make others not like a person. this causes many things. this can cause people to go off the deep end and decide to kill themselves. this can cost people thier jobs. this hurts more than just that one person. i've had it happen to me. i lost friends. i know i've lost friends by being bipolar. i know there are people that treat me COMPLETELY differently now. there are those that don't even speak to me any more. there were people that alienated me, and then friends told me the 'stories' about me that were being told, and that hurt me even more..and that began the longest depression i've ever been in, where i contemplated suicide ona daily basis, concocting ways where maybe no one would find me , or would not care. but there was always those that have always stood by me. those whose faces would come to me as i decided wether or not to drive off a bridge on my way home from work. and i am so thankful for those people that decided to stay friends with me even though i was 'weird' or 'strange' or 'touchy'.

that's all for now. that's all i can get out today.

Wednesday, February 09, 2005

Lost and Gone Forvever

(note to readers: this was written by me on 12/28/04)

and so why should i worry?
why should i care?
why do i need to explain my life to
those who rant and rage at me
about my choices and my life's path????

i don't care.
not anymore.

because no matter what ANYONE says, I, Jenne, know i am on thecorrect path. I have fought a lot with my mind for many years. i have beaten myself up. i have put hands through windows, walls,myself. i have mapped out suicide plans and cried through it. i have driven over bridges and mountains thinking how easily i could off myself. But then the people come into my head. the voices. My voices AND the ones i love. The ones that love me. and the voices all fight. and then i pull over and cry.Last November i really wanted it to be over. and i had to go pick up Colleen to get her new NYPD uniforms. i had to drive to Manhattan to pick her up. but i was scared i would not make it. So i brought her doggie, Nico with me. i felt with Nico there, and then with Colleen in the car, nothing bad would happen. But then a lady in a jeep cherokee smashed into my driver side door. she went right through a stop sign. and if my awesome car was not so wonderfully designed, i'd be really smushed or dead. the lady in the jeep ran out of her car, smacking my window calling me an idiot and stupid fucking idiot. i was crying hysterically because i was afraid Colleen and Nico were hurt. Colleen was in her Police Academy uniform, and was out of the car, with Nico, directing things and being a cop. she went after the woman and told her to get away and calm down. it was scary. it was hard. i kept getting scared that maybe i *had* done it on purpose. it was scaring me so bad. i kept telling the firemen i didn't mean to do it. they kept telling me that eyewitnesses told them it was the other lady's fault. it took me two weeks to feel ok again. it's taken me this long to really be ok about it.

This year has been the year of realization. of real love. of really being more true to ME. for Jenne to take the time to take care of her head, her heart and her health. and i am still doing it. i still have the feelings. i still hear the voices. but i am going to keep fighting the 'Demons', as my therapist calls them.
(note: this is a post i wrote on 10/18/04)

day by day i see my bipolar rearing it's ugly head more and more often and today i decided to get more intense help. not just a weekly talk. not just a small amount of meds. i want this shit UNDER CONTROL. i find myself fighting ti every day more and more to the point where it wipes me out and renders me with no energy left to fight it. This weekend was hard. i made it out to the Billy Corgan signing. i made two new friends. i went home and tried to sleep knowing i had the Walk For Diabetes Saturday morning. i was up most of the night. i watched the old Ally Sheedy flick Maid To Order at 4 am. took a shower and went back to attempting sleep. 8:30 i knew i had to go so i got dressed and went. i kept crying. i didn't want to go. i kept thinking how much happier i'd be in bed with Symon and Priddie in bed purring and keeping me comforted. i wanted to listen to Figure 8 and Grace and not think. But i HAD to. and i did. i walked. i ate a banana and met a Pug named DQ for Dairy Queen. i got two bags of STUFF and had a lunch and free Sugar Free ice cream. then i went home.

i called Mike and told him i didn't want to go out. i didn't want to bowl. i was so unhappy and mentally tired i just wanted to do nothing. he agreed we would just meet up Sunday instead. i went out and got things i needed. cat litter, cat food. a cupcake at Whole Foods. some groceries. then i returned home and got into bed. slept and slept and watched some TV and slept more.Cried a lot. tried listening to Figure 8 some more but that started to make me cry. then i listened to TV.i watched the Red Sox get destroyed by the Yankees and felt bad for the Red Sox. i ever cried for them. i don't know why! everything was making me cry. the ASPCA TV show with the story of the kitty that had it's ears cut off made me cry. the PETA commercial with the crying cows dripping blood made me never wanna eat moo cows again. i watched more tv. i somehow fell asleep and woke up at 7 am. i cleaned the apartment. i snagged my Sunday paper before it got stolen. i felt like crying more. i wanted to punch a wall or myselfto stop feeling that way. i tried something new. when i felt angry like that, i picked up Symon or Priddie, and sat down, and held them to me and hugged them. every time. and it helped. symon especially because every time it was like he hugged be right back, and licked my chin as if to say...'Mommie, i love you and it's going to be ok.'

i watched the game last night and the Red Sox won. i was glad for them.

it IS going to be ok.
it HAS to be.

re-creating my blog

**note** due to circumstances beyond my control, i had deleted the previous blog here.
it is lost and gone forever. i managed to save some, and they will be the first few posts you read here. Thank you for reading.

She's a Brick.

((Note to reader: i wrote this on December 13, 2003. it is my first writing to help me through the rougher parts in my life))

i love Ben folds, with or without the five.he makes me think a lot about things i hide inside me.i love him for writing 'Brick" because it shows what a good guy he was to his girlfriend when they got pregnant.How supportive, and trying to be there and help her through the shit she had to go through, and you realize the male point of view of the situation. as opposed to what happened to me.

****WARNING****and if you know the song, you know what happened to me. if you don't, it's called abortion, and if you have a problem with that, i am sorry. don't read any further.

it happened ten years ago.it was Memorial day and my brother Bill and i went to a party, in Southold, ny, where we had gone to high school. We met up with a bunch of people we both graduated with, and we all went to one of the infamous parties at Horton's lighthouse. these parties were massive, fun, drunken gatherings because none of us really had anything else to do. i never really attended them in high school, because i liked my world of music, art and my little group of friends.everyone at this party was so overjoyed that i'd gone. i was 24 at the time, and well, it was just nice to see these people i'd never really known in HS.

One in particular, was a nice guy i always liked cause he was a musician, and we were having such a great night. we spoke of so much and it was just so cool. i'd been dying for a friend to talk to about music and he kept bringing me more and more drinks, and then he asked if i wanted to go to this other part of the beach.i remember getting into the car, and waking up in the morning, in the car, missing my shoes and sockings and underwear.he was sleeping in the front seat and i wake him, asking him what the hell happened.he just laughed and said 'don't worry, you had a great time'. i yelled and cried and just left the car. i got myself together, and went back and asked him,'did you at least use something?' he said yes, of course! (my aunt had recently died of AIDS and i was so scared). i made him take me to the local 7-11 where i called my friend to pick me up.i tell her what happened, and i just could not believe that i would have slept with someone i hardly knew, and while drunk.. and i didn't think i was *that* drunk...i was a big drinker back then , with a high tolerance, not to mention, i'd only slept with one person at that point in my life. i decided to just wash it off, i was an idiot and just to move on with my world.

then my world exploded two weeks later.my dear period, which was NEVER late, was late.and i knew, i KNEW that fucker had inpregnated me.

i waited two more weeks, praying, crying, talking to my two best friends, Karin and Meri, who told me they'd be there.i tried calling the Guy numerous times. everytime he'd blow me off.then i went for the test. and it was positive. and i knew what i wanted to do.it was selfish, yes. in some circles, i am a murderer. but i did not want to have a child when i knew that:A-the father was (i found out) a supposed drug addict.b-i was not mentally stable to me a mother.c-i was not able to carry a child AND give it away.so i contacted the Guy once again, to tell him what was going on. he once again did not return my calls.

i decide to tell my mom.

My awesome, strong, fabulous, beautiful mom. She promised me she'd take care of me, and do whatever i decided.i feel so bad i did not give her grandchild back then when i see how badly she wants one now, and how bad the odds look for me giving her one, ever.she ended up trying to call the Guy and ask him for half the money to help me out.his MOM ended up talking to my mom...telling her what was going on. after my mom explained to her the situation, she told her she'd come over our house.she came over and wrote me a check, and apologized that her son was such an asshole, and if i needed anything, she'd help me out

then my dear friend Jenny gave me the other half to help me out.Thanks Jenny.

my mom took me, along with my aunt. three days later i was in the back of my brothers buddies car and i moved away from that place. the news had spread all over town..and i was going through hell because of it. In some ways it was a gift. i got the hell out of that crappy place. i got to go somewhere new. and i got to be much closer with my awesome brother.(thanks Billy)

i went home years later and had to deal with him in line at the supermarket.where he was so nonchalant and tried to make conversation. it took every ounce of my being not to punch him. Him with his three children and me with the memories i have to hold with me forever. the guilt i have to hide and cry about alone. the guilt of what i did, when if maybe he'd have called me, or just said 'i'm sorry' or ANYTHING it would have maybe helped me.this is ten years inside me, and hardly anyone knows this about me.but if i didn't write it out today, i might just cry myself into oblivion.i'm thankful for my friends that took care of me, for my Mommy, and Billy.and i thank Ben for writing that song and for making me cry a million times, but in a good way.

and thanks, Ben Folds, for being a real man.