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Let’s Try: That Time When I Went to Rehab

 Unlike Amy Winehouse, when they tried to make me go to rehab, I said  yes yes yes. Well, I must have, because I ended up there. I only had a budding problem with alcohol and marijuana (and my chicken shit ass didn’t dare use anything else); I liked it and I enjoyed it (is that a problem?), but when I got out of rehab I had a guilty complex about using it (thanks!). It was 2021 and I was in the psych ward at Advent Deland, because of, long story short: the DMV, instant coffee, and baby spiders (yeah, weird). This was my second time there within a month, because I just loved that place (really I had a sick satisfaction with their religious program), but they clearly didn’t feel the same about me. I told them I couldn’t go home, as my dad kinda kicked me out, and I was kinda homeless (I kinda lied). So they kinda suggested, would you like to go to a nice rehab in Winter Park Florida?… (the place that shall not be named). I didn’t have a choice because they weren’t going to keep ...
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A Post With No Name (Reality Check)

 It feels good to be back on the blog, but it is bittersweet. It seems I really do need to stop dreaming and start DOING.  My new therapist says I should inquire at Daytona State College about career guidance. “You graduated from college, so you are a smart girl after all,” she says. Not addressing the severe anxiety and depression I am experiencing. No, I just need a JOB (no shit). My psych says I should just stay on my current meds. Great. My roommate says I make him nervous, and I need to “get a life.” Great. I went to the therapist because of that statement, a verdict that makes me more hopeless than motivated.  I could keep up the writing, but I will just write myself into a snowballed rabbit hole. The only silver lining is the humor. I thought I was a “sky full of stars,” when really I’m a crazily manic girl with a bad cigarette habit. I thought this blog was proof that I am a sane sober person, and as I type these words I feel key tapping bursts of joy. Every joke ...
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Is Anybody Out There?

 just checking.
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Going Through a Dry Spell (Literally)

  Help! I need some writing, not just any writing… The well is running dry. Either that or I’ve got to dig a deeper hole…but how far down can I go? The famous poet Edna St Vincent Millay said “myself I think will never know/ how far beneath the wave I go.” Well said. So, it’s not so much how deep can I go — I could plunge endlessly — but how much is my audience willing to tolerate? And most of these amorphous concepts I can’t even get down on paper. They’re ideas or phrases or cool title ideas, but they refuse to flesh out. They go nowhere. I always think of that scene from Boondocks Saints where Greenley says to the fat dude lying by the dumpster: “you’re going nowhere! Nowhere!” Yeah. I have slightly more faith than that, like the gumption to take off with a broken wing and try to mend it along the way.  And then there is the writing I have deleted. Yes, deleted. Because I don’t like having too many drafts, and I figure if it was that important I’ll remember it later. My jou...
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Update: Super Awesome

  The Super Bowl…a holiday I don’t celebrate, but I made a big plate of snacks that was beautiful and I’m very proud of. Although I probably consumed a half a block of cheese (! (the small hickory farms kind)). I don’t care to understand the game; the rules never sink in and the objective is lost. If it makes John happy, that’s cool :) Football is going to be around for a long time, so I better get used to it. I told John most of the commercials make me uncomfortable. It’s true. I’ve been making a “full pot” of coffee every morning (it’s only a four cup maker), and drinking it all throughout the day. I like this better than cup-to-cup (it’s not a damn keurig!), and since I’m going to drink as many, might as well (when I would protest John buying another case of beer he would say “you’re gonna drink it all eventually, right?” True).  I’m trying to ignore the commercials, but I couldn’t help but looking at a Budweiser commercial playing Free Bird , featuring a bald eagle soari...
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Good Vibes: Eat Me Energy Vampires

 I just wanted to make a post with that title ( since I can’t put it on a t shirt ), and also a public service announcement. 
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Drops of Jupiter: There She Goes

  “Drawn into the stream, of undefined illusion, those diamond dreams, they can’t disguise the truth…” — Level 42, There’s Something About You When I broke up with my boyfriend five years ago, he told my mother “I hope she finds herself.” At the time I had blocked his number at the request of a family member, but I appreciated that he reached out to my mom because he was concerned for my welfare and wished me well. But I was trying to escape, not find myself. But I was indeed truly lost. Well, I found Jesus, instead…and then I did find myself (Here I am!). No, really. I wasn’t being true to myself in that relationship (no offense to him). I think most women can relate to that. We try to change ourselves in order to be deserving of love. And we probably do shit that piss men off, like talk too long on the phone (and too much in general), take too long in the bathroom, etc. But it’s part of the package, just like we put up with them monopolizing the tv watching sports.  I’m bein...
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