A Sudden Thought


I have been drowning in the middle of the ocean, probably my entire life and no one has been willing nor available to throw me a raft.

This came to me while thinking of a scene in my life that occurs to me often.

I was working at a privately owned drug store about 45 minutes away from home. I still lived at home with my parents. I took the job for the pay, even though it was in an area I wasn’t familiar with.

It snowed a lot that winter and each time it did, the roads were scary, slippery and dangerous.  But I made every effort to get to work each time, even though I would’ve been quite justified to stay home.

I was terrified to get fired. My boss was the kind who made it obvious that it was not OK to be late. And so calling out for snow made me afraid. After all, just because it was bad on the little back road I lived on, didn’t mean it was bad out there on the main roads. I felt obligated to get there.

One particularly bad morning, I went outside to clear off my car after I’d gotten ready for work. Bundled up in winter gear, I grabbed a shovel and ice breaker from the garage. The snow on my car had hardened to ice.

It didn’t occur to me to start the car to get it warmed up, but I couldn’t open the door anyway. Both of them were frozen shut. I remember the distress and panic I felt about being late. I can remember so well my body tightening with the stress and fear of getting that car to a point that I could get in, start it up and drive it to work.

No one came to help. Not anyone from my family came to help me clean off my car, not a single neighbor came out to tell the naive young me, that if I can get the door open, I can get in and start it up, get the heat and defroster running, then the ice and snow will melt faster.

No one tried to stop me. No one said, the roads are too bad, please don’t drive to work.

I swung the ice breaker, teeth clenched, face red, to chip away at the snow and ice. I had to hurry. I would be late and my boss would be mad.   And if he fired me, my mother would be angry and disappointed too.

I didn’t know that it circled back to my mother at the time, but throughout the years of looking back into my past, I have come to understand this.

I tracked this back to a time when I’d been let go from a job for reasons I thought were not fair. My mother picked me up that day and I told her what happened and the reason they gave me for letting me go.  The look of disappointment in her eyes and on her face crushed me. She only cared that her daughter had failed, not that I was sad about losing a job or that I felt treated unfairly.

I know now that the underlying reason I made a point to get to any job let alone that one almost an hour away, was because I couldn’t bear my mother’s disappointment in me. I couldn’t bear to be the disappointment I already felt that I was.

The memory of chipping away at the ice on my car is a composite of a few different incidents that winter, since we got a lot of snow that year.  One particular morning, I got stuck on a main, four lane highway that I decided to take, thinking that would be the better option. It was a mess.

Somehow I got to a phone and called a friend who had a Jeep type of vehicle. This was before cell phones and I do not remember where I called from. But she came out and got me, took me to work and then drove away.

As I walked through the door of the drug store, I was told they were getting ready to close the store.


Lonely Relief

The loneliness is like a deep mud lake.

The depression is like a heavy ball and chain


The ball and chain dissolves

Once you no longer remain

The loneliness is a constant companion but easier to take

As I watch you drive away

The empty space where you were

Filled somehow

In a way I can’t explain

I only know the feeling

No words to describe

After you walked out that door

I have come back to life

Almost Hit By a Car

Sometimes living with a non-observant and somewhat oblivious man has its advantages. The bad really does outweigh the good though.

It’s one reason I suppose I don’t love him. But I have my moments when I want to be left alone. But then if he noticed and took care of me the way I want to be, then not being left alone and in fact comforted, would be something I’d welcome.

Today I left to walk over to the nearby convenience store for coffee. I told B I was going and asked him if he wanted something. He didn’t and I was on my way.  I approached the corner where I need to cross and a car sat waiting at a STOP sign, for its opportunity to make its turn.

Thinking as a pedestrian that I had the right of way as well as seeing other cars still coming down the road, I attempted to cross the small road, in front of the car at the STOP sign.

Well, apparently I am invisible, because the shit behind the wheel came close to hitting me with his SUV.  Once he’d made his turn, I turned and showed the back of his car my middle finger. He likely didn’t see that either.

I’ve been so emotional anyway because Christmas without a family sucks.

But I am still recovering from an argument B and I had last night that revolves around him getting out of debt. So it would not have taken something so scary as nearly getting plowed by a shitty driver, to make me cry again.

I could feel the tears wanting to break through and I walked right past that convenience store. I found myself having a tough time breathing and my chest was heaving hard. I started to cry. Not in buckets, but my eyes just leaked as I continued to walk. I could not wait to get back home, even though I knew I would not want to talk about it. My anger from the night before had still  been lingering so conversation was not something I looked forward to.

B heard me coming up the steps to the apartment though and he opened the door for me. But then walked away from it, so all I had to do was swing the door open a bit more so I could fit through.

I walked past him without coffee and into my bedroom. I shut the door but had to go back out for something else…I don’t remember what now. At that point Oz took the opportunity to begin coming into my room but stopped halfway in the doorway.

I said with such obvious lack of patience, “In or out” and reached down to nudge him one way or the other. He chose out and I shut the door to be alone and cry.

I cried about everything that had just piled up in the last few hours: The invitation from my sister, the lie I figured out, the fool I felt like as a result, the near miss with a car and the chaos that always seems to ensue when I attempt to just try to be alone, shut the door and be alone.

It took me a little while to cry it out and still B never even noticed or asked about the coffee I set out to get myself.  When I calmed down, I made my own coffee and a late breakfast. So really it worked out because what I ate was a ton healthier than the pretzel I would’ve bought and the coffee I made myself is much better quality than what the convenience store offers. So at least something good came out of it and in fact, even in that moment just before I began to cry, as I walked past the store, I had a thought: “Maybe this is a sign for me not to go into that store, for me not to have that coffee or that pretzel.” (Or perhaps just an opportunity to make a much healthier choice.)

Although it was a relief for me in this particular situation that the man I live with did not ask me why I didn’t come back with coffee, I still think about how nice it would be to live with a man who did notice and see the distress and ask in an empathic way, what had happened or what the matter was.

And after I told him he’d say “Aw honey, I’m so sorry,”  hug me and then offer me a back rub or a foot rub or a neck rub or whatever the fuck rub I wanted.

But I won’t get that from B. He never even noticed I showed back up without coffee.

Final note: As I write this, much later after all this shit happened, Oz is asleep right next to my electric heater. It’s a particularly favorite spot of his in the winter time.  His little sleeping face is so damn adorable and I feel ashamed at my impatience earlier and in general that he ended up living with such a hot head.

How Does It Even Seem Normal?

I’m getting wrapped up in thinking about the invitation from my sister.

I wrote about that in my last post.

I don’t understand.

Or maybe I do. Or don’t.

It’s confusing af.

I wonder, how would it be if I did actually show up.  What would she do? How would she and everyone else treat me?

Would it all just be ignored that I haven’t been around for the last four Christmases?  What is going through her mind to feel comfortable…or the necessity maybe, to send me an invitation to the family Christmas get together.

My brother mentioned in an email he sent me a couple summers ago, that he wasn’t speaking to my sister any longer either. I wonder if that’s still the case and if so, if she sends him an invitation as well.

Could it be that it’s a trap to ensnare me? A deliberate or an unintentional one? Not that it matters if it is a trap either way.  The trap will have the same results for me.

I can see it now. My sister would be fake as fuck and act like she welcomes me. She would say nothing to me that day, pretend that she is happy to see me.

Maybe.  I have a difficult time picturing her not feeling and showing some awkwardness, given the reasons I’ve stayed away for so long.

Seeing the patterns now, I know I will not be there.

But if this were to happen, she likely would put on the act and then later, if and when the opportunity presented itself, she’d pounce with some ridiculous question: “It’s great that you came out this year. But why haven’t you showed up in prior years?”

Of course without my presence of mind and being well aware of her tricks, I might fall for it and call her after Christmas, to talk, to make plans. And that would be her opportunity.

Without the understanding I now have, I would be utterly speechless, frozen. She would berate and guilt and shame me.

But I won’t give her that now…or ever.

I liked both images that I found with this quote or whatever it is, and couldn’t decide which to use so I’m using both.

The Annual Christmas Invite

I really wonder why I get it every year now. I think one, maybe two years I was skipped over but my sister sends an e-vite to my inbox each year now for the annual Christmas “party.”

Oh it’s a party and it takes place on Christmas day, but it’s an open house and others (besides family) are welcome too.

I don’t have a problem with that really. The more the merrier I suppose. But of course there are conditions that go with that as well.

So after my stomach did a little flip, I opened the email but not the actual invitation.  I’m sure it will say the same as it does every year. The time, the place, the usual info that invites include.  I just know that I’m not going.

I’d rather spend Christmas alone than with phantom elephants. If I’m gonna be surrounded by elephants, I’d rather they be real actual elephants…although I’m a bit partial to giraffes.

Loaner Car and Library Books

My car had to go unexpectedly to the shop yesterday, with a burnt out bulb for the left turn signal. And after I called to make that appointment, I heard a rubbing sound that I could also kind of feel. So when I took it for the bulb fix, I told him about the sound and they checked that out too.

So what would’ve been a quick bulb change resulted in me going home with a loaner car while they checked deeper into the issue. They already knew it was a brake problem, they just needed to take things apart and see what exactly was wrong with the brakes.

The shop manager gave me a loaner car to use and it just so happened that the nice one was available. It’s an Acura…an Acura TL to be exact. Of course there are nicer models but I drive a Buick Century. The Acura takes corners sharply and picks up quickly and looks sporty.  I feel so confident when I drive that car.

This is a 2014 model. The one I drove is a 2003 but it’s still nice and runs so great. It’s an auto mechanic shop’s loaner so…

In comparison mine takes a bit to get off the ground, is kind of a lug when it turns a corner and looks like an old people car.

I decided I wanted to drive to the library. I know…exciting right?  Well this particular library is a little bit of a distance so it gave me a chance to really drive the Acura. I was able to get on a trafficky two lane road and take myself quickly away from any potential tailgater. I was able to swing quickly around someone parking terribly on a tight and busy four lane road and I was able to shrug off potholes and bumps as if they were nothing.

I already had one specific book in mind when I got to the library. It’s called The Gaslight Effect by Dr. Robin Stern. If I wasn’t so paranoid, I’d think she was trying to gaslight readers since she actually does not capitalize the first letter of the words in her title or her name.

I have just finished the first chapter and already have learned some interesting things. One is that I’ve done some gaslighting of my own. It’s not easy to learn that, but now that I know I can work on correcting that. Of course I’ve also learned a little more about how I was gaslighted in some past relationships with men. There are things that are considered gaslighting that I had not realized.  And so this explains the loss of self and my confusion in those situations.

I also got a book called Transcendence, which is a book about Transcendental meditation, something I’ve been interested in for a long time but cannot afford to go to the classes that are offered. I also have an aversion to the crowds the classes draw. Too many people sitting too close together. Ugh, no thank you.

The other books are about finances. I figure it’s never to late to learn.

After I was finished at the library, I went to pick up my own car and had to sadly give back the loaner. I keep asking for an even trade but for some reason the shop manager just laughs.  Oh well, it was fun while it lasted.

Well, This Isn’t Working Well At All

I am a sensitive soul. I’m not only sensitive emotionally but I am also sensitive physically.

I remember when I first started smoking pot at a very young age. One night I went with a group of friends to the popular roller skating rink in the area. Before going in, we went to the back of the building, where there was a small woodsy area, to smoke a joint. One of my friends’ brother had given her a fatty, for us to share that night.

After we’d indulged, standing in our tight little circle, my head swam and I thought that everyone else had the same thing going on inside their head too.

The next day, the one friend that I hung out with on a daily basis told me things I’d done that I had not remembered doing. One of them included being rather mean to a boy who’d asked me to skate during couple skate.

I was still quite high by the time my mother picked us up that night and when I asked everyone else if they were too, before she got there, they all told me that they’d come down a while ago.

That’s just one example, and because of my sensitivity I didn’t smoke pot a whole lot as a teen, like so many other kids I knew.  I took a bus with kids in high school that would smoke a bowl or a joint at the back of the bus and then go through their classes for the day. I already knew at that point in my life, that if I’d done that, I’d be asleep before homeroom and wouldn’t remember a thing the teacher said in my first class.

Fast forward to present day and more than a month ago, I wrote about going back to kratom.  Well, as I’d expected, I have met the piper that I usually have to pay on the other side of trying to medicate the effects of my trauma.

It is a subtle feeling within, after taking it for this short amount of time, but it’s an explosive effect on the outside.

Seems that it has upped the rage in instances where I am triggered anyway. But the reactions to the trigger are much more intense.

I thought that I was just randomly getting worse. Thinking DBT isn’t working and had a strong urge to quit yesterday. But then I remembered…kratom. Not that I forgot that I was taking it. But that it could have such an effect on me had gotten past me again.

In the first week or two, it was great. Something that would normally piss me off, I could let it roll off my back…just like I used to. Not anything abusive, just some things that are a bit irritating or annoying that most people can simply let go and move on with their day.

For a while that was me again. But now, I guess it’s the accumulation in that part of the brain that is causing the opposite effect, and not only am I back to what was going on before, but it’s making my raging reactions worse.

So off of kratom I go, at least on an everyday basis. I could probably get away with it after it clears out and only then as a once in a while thing, like say on a really heavy depression day.  But as a daily thing, it does more harm than good for me.

That being said, this is not an anti-kratom post. Everyone is different and not everything is for everyone. So please don’t take this as me demonizing kratom.   I know and understand that it has helped many and continues to do so. There are positive things about it.  But there are indications to it and I think that’s important to understand and know.

As someone with Complex PTSD, it does have some indications that it COULD be a problem for me and I’m finding that to be true.

I found this link a couple days ago. My query was if a side effect of kratom could be anger.

There are more unpleasant side effects listed that some people could experience.

Stay Tuned


Our bathroom sink isn’t draining well. We’ve cleared it ourselves before with a plunger. At that time no drain cleaner was needed. Last night it drained really slow again and plunging didn’t work…at least not right away.

So B went to the store and picked up some Draino. Not my favorite thing. I’m one to shun chemicals as much as possible. But if it’s between Draino and dealing with Nasty, I’ll take the Draino.

Well by the time B got back, the water that was slow to drain before, had cleared. So he never used it.

Tonight it’s giving us a bit of an issue again, although not as bad as last night. But there’s now another problem and it’s probably related to the draining issue.

One of the pipes under the sink, I think it’s the cold water pipe, is damp. It’s not visibly dripping but it is, like I said, damp. And the floor of the sink was a little wet too.

I cleared out everything that was in there and nothing is wet. The box that has some rubber gloves in it feels a bit damp though. I actually discovered that it was wet because I pulled out the roll of paper towels I keep in there and the corner of the next paper towel was pretty wet.

B wondered if maybe it was wet because he had the cabinet open while he was plunging.

Let’s fucking hope that’s the case.

Don’t get me wrong, if there’s an issue, she will get a text message from one of us and then if we don’t hear anything back we will follow up. We just hate dealing with her in any capacity since we know her tendency to skirt and deflect responsibility.

It’s obvious the work under the sink is half ass just like so much other stuff around here but she is not likely to admit that.

Idk. We’ll see what happens.

I cleared the shit out from under the sink and dried under there with a towel so now we’ll watch and see if it gets wet again.


Second Snow of Season While the Cat Talks

I pushed record and let it go from inside the bedroom window. You can hear Oz this time.

He is an old, half deaf cat who is loud and talkative.

The snow falling right now creates an urge to go out and take pictures and even some video in a neighborhood I lived in from the ages of 6 to 10.  It’s part of something I’ve been thinking about doing.

But I don’t want to take any chances of either me crashing my car in the slippery snow or someone else smashing into me. Making it worse, we’re now into school traffic time and shortly to follow will be ‘rush hour,’ although it is constant rush hour in these parts.