Right now I am feeling like emotional crap.  This doesn’t mean I am not still experimenting with this happy business it just means I’ve hit a glitch, a big one. [pertinent post coming]

I’m trying to take my mind off it and look at it from some more angles before I write on it or it will be a gong show.  Granted avoiding dealing with my most recent issue is really only making it worse.  It is family related I am SO done with any and all blog drama.

I’m known to be a pretty plain Jane.  I do have a girly side I just grew up a sporty tom boy.  I’m too lazy to wear much makeup and mascara doesn’t even make me happy anymore because false eyelashes are all the rage and I swear the funniest thing I ever got picked on for in high school was supposedly having fake lashes the teasing started in 1990.  YES there are much worse things to be picked on for, trust me the bullies had me covered.  I do get my lashes tinted on occasion because it makes me feel pretty.  I find that because I have a face covered in peach fuzz that wearing any sort of cover up is literally impossible to get even on my skin.  I also can not stand the feel of makeup and have probably eaten at least a tube of lipstick and I hardly ever wear it because I eat and pick my lip skin off constantly it is pretty disgusting but an interesting example of how when you make an effort to stop a compulsive behavior it often manifests itself into a different behavior and can take a while to accept that is all you have done and have to start over.

Shall I get to the point?

Due to the copious amounts of pot I have been smoking for years, more than I will admit to most people; though let us not forget that addictions are generally intensely private to the individual, I find myself with very dark circles under my eyes.  I’m used to this, but it has become more obvious to me as of late.  Extra water intake and extra moisturizing was not cutting it.  Even if I were to quit smoking pot completely it takes approximately two months before your skin starts to lose the grayish tone that sinks in and only adds to the eye circles.

When it comes to products primarily marketed towards women and the refusal to let us age gracefully I rarely get sucked in.  I exfoliate my face in the shower and my body using two different St. Ives products, they are inexpensive products that work. I use Olay moisturizer on my face because they are generally one of the only mid-price range lines of beauty products I have any interest or faith in; although I also use St. Ives body moisturizer because I have super sexy chicken scratch skin on the back of my arms and top of my legs.

I purchased Olay Regenerist Eye Lifting Serum hoping it would reduce my dark circles and it didn’t work, so I went into The Body Shop where years ago I bought this under eye gel one of my straight male friends used and so I had to try it and because it was gel it was cool and soothing.  The novelty wore off fast I was twenty-young something and didn’t even have dark circles.  But I explained my totally superficial insecure eye situation and they told me to put my Olay in the fridge.  This made for soothing application but it kept not absorbing right and getting in my eyes and making them redder than they already are and it was pissing me off.

I recently started using Garnier’s Skin Renew, anti-puff eye roller because I fell pretty hard for the cool feeling of the Olay serum under my eyes I just didn’t want to lose my eyesight due to fire eyes.  This Garnier eye roller had me pretty intrigued for someone who although writing a page plus post on a bloody eye serum doesn’t get excited about just any girly products.  Nic’s Sticks by OPI were my last must have girl product and that took place in July and was egged on by my lust for Target and the exclusivity to Target anything because I am a sucker.

I’m going to go out on a completely uneducated limb here and admit that I highly doubt caffeine is good for your skin.  But this eye roller works and it feels like you are at the spa for that six seconds it takes to apply.  I noticed almost instant results my puffiness and dark circles have dramatically decreased and it is not just my imagination.

I am still skeptical because I used Proactiv Solution for years back when it still cost almost seventy dollars Canadian for a three month supply.  Although this product was fantastic for helping clear up the adult acne I suffered through-out my twenties it was not without side effects and has left me with pock marks which are not flattering.

For now I am enjoying that girlish feeling I get when I know that no one even looks at my under eye skin or notices the bags I see but the bizarre permission I feel to act girly makes me hope the caffeine doesn’t make my skin shrivel up like raisins.

One of the reasons that I see a shrink is because I have emotional problems.

Talk about stating the obvious.

My emotions come in so many different sizes, shapes and colors; they are wild and hard to control. But I have had the pleasure of learning that for me controlling my emotions is also about letting go and acceptance.

It isn’t necessarily as cut and dry as saying, “I’m a crier”, because in some situations where you would think I am sitting balling about something I’m not. It puzzles me I always notice it and think to myself, holy shit I feel really bad about that shouldn’t I be crying? So then I will make an effort to cry, but nothing. I am a seriously bad fake crier I can not do it. But what I can do is cry my eyes out at the most inappropriate times and embarrass the living shit out of myself and then I’m also the asshole who used to find out someone died and started laughing instead of crying, or again, I just can’t cry. It is fucked I tell you. I must have out grown the laughing thing, thank paganism for that but nothing has seemed to slow the flow of the water works.

This isn’t something you can mention in a session and expect and instant cure for; I have been the epitome of the above paragraph since I was wee kid. It has taken me five years of weekly sessions to even write about it. But this time my blubbering outbursts at the Triathlon World Championships and then in my therapist’s office had a different spin. It was from the perspective of being proud of the fact that I am so passionate about really fucking awesome things, like books and sports and friends in other countries, and people I’ve met through my blog and when I talk about books and movies and sports and people I’ve met through blogging who have helped me accomplish personal goals and helped me deal with my social anxiety I get misty eyed and I used to really try and hide it, behind things like my ugly prescription sunglasses, but just the other day when I was getting my hair cut I was telling my stylist about having my photo taken with Tri-Athlete, Lauren Groves and I got teary eyed and I had told her how emotional I had been that day in general and she looked at me and said “are you getting emotional now?” And I said “FUCK YEAH!” For the first time in my entire life I just came right out, didn’t try and hide it and owned my emotions. Because I know and am starting to accept that I feel the things and people I love so deeply that yes it makes me very emotional, I think I have stated that the Olympics on my turf could possibly drain me of tears and it may kill me.

This is something I could never figure out how to deal with, I despised it. It bewildered Adam to no end, I think we have grown together on this one though because I really have had no choice but to just let it all go, this is my husband and it hurt trying to hide the emotions, it would hurt when he would laugh at me because he didn’t understand. And the knots hurt my throat, playing the watery eyes off as allergies was fake and I’ve only had adult allergies for four years so it was also a flat out lie. And Adam actually knows me so excuses didn’t work.

This is me, see me get emotional over the finals of Wimbledon every year, see me cry when I talk about passages of my favorite books, the mere mention of Africa, movies that I think got it right with something that matters to me, see me be happy that other players are going to get to shine but still cry because no Tiger for what seems like ever, see me get teary over a Michael Phelps commercial, see me cry and scream watching Simon Whitfield come out of the water, watch me tear up sending emails and snail mail to people I care about telling them how awesome they are and not expecting a response. I could go on and on but I think you get the point. I cry, and it isn’t because I am weak and I’m finally learning to be comfortable with just how deeply I feel and how it affects me and how my body chooses to release that joy with tears but they are tears of passion for the things I love.

When I get sick I am a pretty big baby combine that with seasonal allergies and night time barfing and things have been fantastic!

Boooo last Friday I had to cancel therapy re: being sick, no girl time re: being sick and I had only been looking forward to that for WEEKS! Adam is sick as well so we’ve been passing this shit back and forth and at first I wasn’t snotty I just felt EXTRA balloon migraine head with MILD head cold, NOW I’m getting full head cold and snotty. YAY! I’ve been having really awesome night sweats as well and I haven’t been forgetting to take my crazy people tits and so therefore I can not pin point a reason other than being SICK.

In other news, The Greeper has a new place that she likes to sleep. Pretty exciting shit eh? I know, I thought so too until it turned out she’s serious and has taken over half the spot I sleep in. She has of course had other phases, other places she goes back to. The fashion box, the tent, I’m sure she will get bored of sleeping right below BUT almost ON my pillow soon.

Our camera is not back from being fixed yet so we had to buy a back up one. We couldn’t delay the monkeys any more due to lack of photos, but at the same time we HAVE to be able to take photos of our product. This issue of course led us into a discussion of other things that could happen to slow us down, when we are just about done with a lot of the start up necessities and can now work on picking up our production pace. I mentioned that there would come a time that we’d make a monkey, look at it, hate it or it would not meet our quality standards and we’d have to start over. Really, did I say that out loud? Because it happened the monkey after I said it! YAY! We have informed the buyer, I figure honesty is best, there is only two of us and both of us had a hand in it sucking so we’ve had to start over. Now we have a physically challenged monkey in our apartment, at least Dr. Vegas finally has a monkey that isn’t going anywhere to play with mostly because it is blind and can’t speak. Once that red thread goes on for the mouth the suckers don’t shut up. Banana this, poo in your face that.

My Dad is supposed to be dropping two boxes of stuff off to Adam and I on Saturday, some of my stuff, some stuff they are giving us, some stuff that has been in the family forever that I am taking because I’m the last member of our family and I don’t want it leaving the family till I die I guess. Small problem though, my Dad and I got into one of our infamous fights today. Oh how I love them. Always in regards to the exact same issue(s) hidden by topics seemingly cloaked in difference that spread years, weeks, months some just days - we some how manage to piss each other off regularly even when not in big fights. My mom is going to be all upset now and that’ll be my entire fault too, I’m sure. Super awesome, we both resort to behavior befitting that of two year olds and just generally spin in circles for a while. Fun times. We have worked hard on things as a family but my Dad and I, man we’ll just always scrap, sadly that is just how we are, we can’t seem to communicate in any sort of healthy way. Wonder how many more phases this move to Bali holds in store for us.

Just finished my fifth book of the year leaving me three behind my minimum quota for 2008, I will get off my ass and post on them soon. This year has been good so far aside from The Time Travelers Wife. EWWWW.

HOLY we are sooooo busy but some things need to be said so I must get on saying some of them!!

————————————————————————————————————

First off to my Bowl for Big Brothers sponsors I will be bowling on Thursday. There will be photographic evidence although I do not want any because I am so thin right now I don’t even like going outside it feels like everyone is staring at me and not in a good way.

Truth is some of my ridiculous actions got me rightfully tossed off the team. But I will still bowl oh yes I will bowl!

————————————————————————————————————

You may be asking yourself why I didn’t just take the post down, but I think now after having had a lot of time to think about it I’m leaving it up as an example of what not to do during a very bad break down brought on by the harbouring and keeping of secrets I should never have been told and allowing fear and jealously compounded by other things in my life I’m super happy about - both are those types of things in life that have seriously good pros with just as equally bad cons - to take over my life.

If there is one thing I HAVE TO STOP doing it is harbouring I have to learn how to tell people how I feel for real. Even if it sucks, because even though I won’t say anything behind your back that I won’t say to your face the fact is if I am saying it behind your back when I should be saying it to your face, saying it behind your back is also passive aggressive and not too bright because the blogging world is small so I know it is going to get back to whoever anyway and it is probably by then not going to be what I said but a changed let’s play telephone and whisper in each others ears grade seven drama version.

I caused a great disturbance within the force and I am sorry for that. It was wrong to air it out in a post on my blog. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. I am not going to dissect which parts I meant and which parts I didn’t mean because I didn’t mean most of it; most of it came from sheer rage. In case you were wondering I have a bad temper. I had stopped saying bad temper and had down graded it to ‘temper’ I honestly did not know that I was still capable of rage like that, rage that was so strong that Adam tried to stop me from doing certain things and was unable to, he could have always restrained me but he didn’t for whatever reason. Rage so strong, scary rage, that doesn’t allow me as much control over my actions as I know that some, if not many, would like to believe I have. All this really means is that taking responsibility for certain things comes with a lot more guilt and embarrassment than it normally would.

Being that I am not ready to forgive myself for all that has happened, I am not ready to ask anyone for forgiveness and regardless the scars run deep on all sides and forgiveness may not even be an option for some actions for some words used.

I do know that one of the most important things I have learned thus far in my almost 31 years is how to laugh at myself and holy crap it rules, and I’ve been working on how to forgive people and forgive myself for things which is something I never ever saw as possible within myself because although I am a very some would say almost too forgiving person I am a person who forgives with BUTS and that is not fair and I’m committed to working on that.

————————————————————————————————————

Being honest with myself although I have made a lot of positive progress over the last year with my shrink, we’ve recently discussed it, obviously - you can’t end up in the hospital and not have it come up in session - I’ve had a relapse. I’m not better yet, I haven’t fully lifted my x-wing fighter out of the pond yet but I’m working on it and feeling better and better every day. I am not freaking out any more. I am stable. I’m still having a bit of anxiety which has caused a ridiculous amount of weight loss that I know I am going to be way over sensitive about for a while because normally when I lose this much weight I’m in shape so I at least have muscles, I don’t have muscles right now it is just a disgusting caved in stomach with hip bones pointing straight out and from behind I look like a dinosaur. I don’t think that I have ever actually been this thin in my adult life. I do not like it at all. My arms look disgusting, my breath is terrible and my size four wedding band that I have already had resized smaller once is too big. But the good news is that the war against my anxiety is back on, and it is back on in a big way.

Oh man, where to start. I’ve been sitting here on my sports ball doing basically everything except writing. I’m being avoidant and playing the denial card I guess.

[please note my body is NOT back to normal, my mouth is crazy dry and tastes gross and I’m still wobbly and that will likely make my grammar and missing words etc. worse than usual, Adam will fix it when he gets home]

It is ironic, [even though Alanis Morissette still has me confused on what ironic really means] that I’ve been planning a big post, a really SERIOUS post on self medicating and when it goes too far, as much as I’ve earned my Shrink’s trust and have gotten to a point where the only full dose of my tits [meds] I take a day is 150mgs of Effexor - my basic anti-depressant. The other two - although when originally prescribed I took the full dosage - I don’t anymore.

Clonazepam 1 mg. [I’m supposed to take three a day, I take two]

Here is something you may not know about me, I had NEVER suffered from any form of anxiety until May 19, 2002 when I was sexually assaulted in my own home. I was in denial over what had happened and sitting at work two days later it hit, I didn’t even know what it was. I was not in any kind of therapy at this time but thankfully because my family Drs. was fully aware of what had gone down she filled an over the phone Clonazepam prescription for me and I’ve been taking it ever since.

Seroquel 25mgs, take one half three times a day. I take one a day at night before bed. I honestly can not remember why the Seroquel was added, I do not like it, but it works. Because I can’t remember why it was added I have tried to come off it a few times and it has not gone well to say the least.

Now here is where for me things get interesting in relation to my tits. Not all, but almost everyone I have met feel that they need to have a certain amount of control over their tits; this is completely normal but unfortunately dangerous. I am extremely honest with my Shrink about my self medicating, he gets it. If I take the FULL dosage I am a zombie, I can’t stay awake and it is just silly, but when I’m freaking out I need the full prescription.

I guess it was last year I took sixteen Clonazepam tablets and lost all the years of earning trust with the Shrink. This meant that the drug was given to me with enough for a week and no more. I had to have it refilled every Friday for months. I know damn well this will be implemented again this coming Friday and yes I deserve to be treated like a five year old if I am going to act like one. I think it’ll take a little longer than last time to earn his trust back.

Wow, almost a full page already and I am JUST getting to the actual post.

I can’t and won’t get into the details that aren’t about me, because even though I stand by my feelings written yesterday, not all but some was just pure pent up rage, and the feelings aren’t set in stone, they had been building for ages and yes, YES I handled it wrong. Not since all the shit with my parents and in-laws happened I have NEVER publicly gone off on people I know on my blog. I don’t really know what is going to happen there, I can not at this time open two emails from two people, I know I have to, and I will, and I will apologize and take responsibility for my actions, but I’m scared an can’t open them right now. Like, I know I should have just confronted, emailed, called, gone for coffee, something, and just said LOOK blah blah blah. But I didn’t, I let it build which I have a HORRID habit of doing.

When PH died I think I mentioned that one of the phases that I went through that none of the other people I went through it with understood [that I know of] and probably still don’t was centered around how furious I was because I felt like he had STOLEN suicide from me. I KNOW crazy! I felt like I was stuck here forever because the pain of that loss was so intense I still remember feeling like I weighed about three hundred pounds and was barely capable of putting one foot in front of the other. He died on a Tuesday his close friends were told Wednesday and I had not even known about his death for ten hours before I went into work on the Thursday, only to be sent home because I did not know I was crying. I was numb. I promised myself when I (we) lost him that I would never ever take my own life because, OH MAN, did it do a number on so many people and I for the first time since my week long botched attempt in grade 11 did I realize what I had almost done to people.

Yesterday, I was not trying to kill myself. I know that probably sounds like a flat out lie because I was feeling suicidal but as mentioned those thoughts come standard with my ‘overall’ depression and I fight the thoughts the very best that I can.

I just didn’t want to feel anymore I just wanted to sleep. I knew consequences from my post were going to hit but I was planning on waiting until I wasn’t freaking out to deal with it. It is extremely interesting to me analyzing the two different sides of myself that I guess we all possess.

Side A. Is one of the strongest women you will ever meet, I can dish it as well as I can take it. I will tell you how it is; I will call you an asshole behind your back and to your face. [ONLY if you are being one, unless I’m drunk and in that case I prolly don’t mean it anyway] Side A loves life, she is clam collected and well liked, no one believes she is actually really shy and that she loves you faults and all. [shit just look at my faults!] She will support you at ALL hours of the day or night. There are a couple people out there since this blog has started whose in person friends have been scared for their loved ones, contacted me and ‘they’ still don’t know I was part of getting them back on track, I don’t need a thank you in life and death situations just knowing it worked out for them makes my heart sing.

Side B. I hate this side of myself. I leave therapy constantly having explained all the stupid things I did that week, passive aggressive twitters, stuff I wrote or said that I can’t take back, delete just isn’t a fool proof saviour online. He always reminds me of how far I’ve come that Side B is being dealt with, she is getting better. She still lashes out in very inappropriate ways and Oh yes, she fucks up a lot more than she’d like to. But someone once told me it isn’t what you do it is what you do to fix it.

I can’t stress enough how much I just didn’t want to feel ANYTHING, positive or negative. We’ve quit smoking pot [that is for another post] so I couldn’t just smoke a shit load and call it a night. I started by just taking a normal Shrink approved, let’s just calm me dose. But when Adam got home I had already read him the post over the phone and I said something to the effect of I’m sorry I just pretty much ended a few friendships in today’s post and he was upset with me. Rightly so. He went to take a nap and I took a palm full of Clonazepam and palm full of Seroquel and then I went and got a bottle of wine IN PAJAMA PANTS before the two palm fills kicked in.

Here is where my memory becomes a little shaky.

I remember staggering into the bedroom and falling on the bed. I could NOT get coherent sentences out and I had been trying to text message with Aughra but I couldn’t concentrate on the screen or the letters. I have no idea what Adam asked me, but I heard him call 911 and if you can believe it my first though was great I’ve just cost us $150.00 plus for the ambulance. The only stuff I have memory of is the noise it sounded like there were fifty people in here; I think it was actually around six. They kept talking to me, who knows what they were saying but they got the little oxygen thing in my nostrils and put the IV in, I was put in the sit up stretcher, taken down stairs and lifted to the gurney and put in the ambulance. I still have no idea what the inside of one looks like. They gave me something in the ambulance to work against what I’d taken but I have no idea what.

Once in the hospital my nose dried up I couldn’t breathe and I was not comfortable, I had the sticky things on my chest for the heart rate monitor, plus the nose oxygen and the IV, and then I was given an EKG and was covered, I looked like a sticky note.

I was told I was ‘stuck there’ [yes self inflicted but still] for at least 72 hours on suicide watch. There was no way I was staying in there for 72 hours. I got out of bed and staggered to the front desk and slurred I can’t stay here I can’t sleep and I can’t remember what my other reason was for wanting to leave but I was told if I tried to leave I would be restrained. So to be perfectly honest I have NO IDEA why I was released at around 12:30am. I *think* my Shrink gave the go a head to let me out because when the hospital’s Shrink came into see me he asked what I would do when I got home if they let me leave.

Walking home was pretty hard due to my balance normally I just need someone to walk on my right and I’m fine, even with Adam’s arm around me I was all over the place and fell up the stairs three times when we got to the apartment.

I’d like to end this monster post by saying sorry to Adam; sorry to all my friends and people who love me “just the way I am” and that you can all be guaranteed my Shrink will big time make me earn my right to have some sort of control over my medications back.

Guest Post by Adam

im back from the hospital and still numb. i became desensitized to death as a kid, i remember 11 years old and my dad coming into my bedroom to tell me my mom had finally died and not crying. i knew it was coming, i had bawled a few times after seeing her with the morphine drip, she not wanting us to be sad. my dad cried, he held me, we were all shocked and in pain, but i wanted to be strong like she said, not knowing what else to do. i know i lost something that day, something that makes people normal and emotionally developed. it wasnt a conscious decision, my mind made it for me. i was protecting myself. it didnt make me hard, it just made me different. so now am i being strong sitting here still not crying, trying to stay moving? i dont think corinna wants to die, and for now, she wont. but her mind will not stop serving her pain, and as anyone who was abused by a parent can attest, the emotional kind is far more painful. she feels different like me i know that, and that difference makes communicating difficult and increases any feelings of isolation. its so hard to guess at what you think you want, what might make you happier, when you dont know what any of that happiness is made of. nobody swallows pills and wine to hurt anyone but themselves. it is not an aggressive action, it is not aimed at any target, it is a frustrated action, it comes from anguish. prolonged pain makes us feel like we deserve it, that it defines our lives. i only wish i could feel more and have her feel less, because she deserves a break from the restlessness and breath it takes. nobody needs to understand this, i dont, she doesnt, but its there. and if you dont feel comfortable being so close to something that so often looks evil, if you cant get past it, then dont bother asking yourself why this little blond girl sleeping at st pauls with an iv drip in her arm is so scary. you wont get it. its not about answers. its about remembering that you are human. and alive. i love you all anyways. even the shitheads. we all hurt people, get hurt, lose people and die. simple.

this post is brought to you by david bowie and jonathan richman. i dont know what the right thing to do is either. if you love her, be yourself and keep doing that. everything will follow.

I mentioned earlier this week that I was a hand talker and clumsy, I bet you’re glad you didn’t challenge me now.