This comment has stuck with me. It’s been bugging me. I guess I don’t understand why anyone would read or follow my tweets if they hate me. I also don’t really know why when I’ve clearly separated myself out from the Vancouver Social Media scene why I’m STILL a hot hate topic. I have made some friendships with people inside the scene but I hang out with them outside of it.

It makes me feel bitter and bullied, like people are just sitting back and waiting for me to lose it, hospital style. If I get upset to any degree on any public forum, including my blog, it feels like I can’t just be upset, it feels like the haters are sitting in anticipation of when they can declare that I haven’t changed.

I have a temper, no matter how hard I work on myself I’m always going to have a temper but I’m not going to blog from the perspective of forcing all the progress I’ve made down people’s throats, I simply write how I feel on whatever medium I’m on. If you have to ask yourself why someone would be as open as I am about my life, and my trials and tribulations then you aren’t my target audience.

Normally I wouldn’t even address this because it feels like I’m defending myself, but I’m feeling pretty down right now. I suppose it only makes sense, to me anyway, given the posts from January that I am feeling a certain amount of insecurity online. I make a point of not checking my stats unless I’m under attack, which I was and so I know that my parents are stalking both my blog and my twitter page. I don’t know if they think this will intimidate me into not posting and if they think it’s been working, when in reality I’ve been super busy with a new kitty who came to us with some health issues which lead to me being pretty down and having a tough time going from taking care of my sick old best furry buddy to taking care of a sick kitten with no one but myself to blame for my emotions. Feeling like I got a new kitty too soon but knowing I couldn’t give up on the little guy. Breaking down somedays out of emotional exhaustion and feeling like a fucking loser because it was triggered by cats. But coming home to an empty apartment after Christmas was hard on us both. I had no way of knowing, thinking we were rescuing a healthy cat, which was naive in and of itself, that the wee Roy Kucing being a bit sick for over half the time we’ve had him would take an emotional tole. I do have an introductory post for Roy in drafts but never got it finished.

I would also be a flat out liar if I were to proclaim that certain aspects of things happening or rather not happening with my immediate family weren’t bothersome. The fact that I’ve made three attempts to obtain my grandmother’s new address and phone number and have been ignored on all fronts. But yet my parents stalk my site. It makes me sick. Regardless of what is going on between my parents and claims that I never contact this woman and then refusing to let me contact her when she’s dying doesn’t even make sense to me. It certainly isn’t making me want to have any sort of civil conversation with them, but if they actually think I’d bring any of this up to my almost 89 year old dying grandmother, fuck it, I can’t even entertain these ideas because it simply makes my blood boil. The fact that they are stalking me instead of giving me a simple fucking address speaks volumes to me.

For me, right now, I’m dealing with the fact that I AM dealing with things. I’m dealing with feelings. I’ve never kept it a secret on here that I’ve abused prescription drugs in the past. This has gotten me into A LOT of trouble online and in my personal life. It made me feel invincible and I got behind a computer screen a few too many times under the influence and well, I think the majority here know how the rest of that story goes. Even this time last year I couldn’t sit in my feelings. That is why it is ok if I simply do sit in my feelings and don’t exercise, don’t read, don’t write, just sit, I can’t do it forever but it’s where I’m currently at: because at least I’m sitting at least I’m not fucked up on a stash of clonazepam and seroquel. Having real feelings is a trip, it has allowed for many breakthroughs with my psychiatrist but it is incredibly hard at times. I’m used to freaking out and then freaking out some more with maybe a bit more freak out thrown in for good measure but not freaking out means the pain has to go somewhere and if it isn’t going into the drugs and it isn’t going into freaking out then where it is going is where I’m going right now and those places suck balls but if I don’t go to them then I can never get better, I will never know if I can be one of the lucky ones who does recover from this at times debilitating illness.

This morning when I woke up feeling suicidal and outed myself with my dailybooth photo I was glad to find myself with words not going straight to draft because I won’t suffer in silence, I will put it out there so that I don’t do stupid shit and end up in the hospital again or have friends running around trying to find me and contacting Adam and afraid for my safety because I know having lost someone who stayed silent and from the life I’ve lead that if there is one thing I’m not no matter how shitty I feel is alone in this and if I have to put my pain out on the internet to keep myself here then I’m going to put it out on the fucking internet and haters gonna hate no matter what, but the people who love me are also still going to love me.

The other day I thought it was coming up on the third month anniversary but I quickly realized it’ll be two months since she passed on Thursday. I find grief so strange, the similarities to my depression are such that I’m thankful I have friends who will remind me that it hasn’t been that long since I lost my best furry buddy, the longest relationship I’ve ever had, that it is ok to get upset and cry. I have forever been a person who will easily cry over something as simple as spilled milk, but I detach from trauma and reattach generally at the most inappropriate of times causing myself even more grief.

I have forced myself to deal with this more so than I think I have with other losses, this is not to say I haven’t had situations not even remotely about Gus trigger me into the grieving process. I have tried to force myself to literally stand in my feelings. If I think I hear her paws and feel a small jolt of energy as I anticipate her jumping up on the couch to turn and realize she isn’t there, I try to acknowledge it and give myself permission to simply miss her.

I love the urn we got for her; it has dancing lions on it. It’s comforting having her here, not creepy, I was worried it would be strange and creepy but the alternative to not having her cremated individually is what was creepy to me.

It is hard for me to believe that by the time I push publish on this at sometime tomorrow that Gus will already be gone. Adam and I picked the photos for this memorial post a couple weeks ago now, to make it easier to post it. I wasn’t sure if I was going to write anything or not, by my mind is moving at a million miles an hour. How am I going to walk without keeling over to the vet’s office? And how am I supposed to walk back in the apartment with an empty carrier and no kitty to greet me?

It has been incredibly hard trying to figure out exactly when to do this. If this was about us we could probably keep her around for another two or three months, but it is about her. She is in pain and I don’t know how I knew, given that I am not a religious person maybe it is that I do have a spiritual side. In my gut, I knew that I would know when it was time, that she’d let me know in her own way, and when she jumped up onto my lap on Wednesday morning and didn’t purr at all, I knew. No matter how crappy she has been feeling over the past few months she has always kept purring. It took me a couple hours to muster the courage to call but I had to.

I’m not a person who has had to deal with a lot of death in my life. Animal wise, people wise. I have not had to deal with death since 2003. I remember how I felt, parts of it, and I’m dreading it. Especially given that Gus has no say in this. I’m keeping the promise I made to myself and the promise I made to her, that I wouldn’t let her suffer. Part of me feels like I have left it too long but on the other she is still *happy* which has only added to the difficulty.

She led a great life and we went through many a gauntlet together, other than Adam she had never really taken to anyone else very much, but a few were able to win her over. Being the runt of the litter she always had bizarre ways of letting you know you’d made her inner circle, such as drooling on you or giving you a quick chin or nose lick. There are so many things I can’t imagine living without, little things, like the sound of her paws when she’d walk across the hardwood, when she’d purr so hard and drool so much it would soak her nose, so many kisses on my nose and chin I’d have to stop her because it would hurt after a few. Watching her and Adam curled up sleeping together on the couch. All the things that annoyed the shit out of me like her pushing her face under my books all the time so I couldn’t read, I’m going to miss that now.

I’m not sure who is luckier, you all reading this or me that the scanner is broken so the only photos of Gus are ones taken since I started Blogging in 2005. If it were working I’d probably be scanning in kitten photos like mad.

———————————

November 6, 2010

We are home. Today dragged and then it flew. I’m riding the shock wave, hoping it lasts a while I’m not really ready for it to sink in. She was ready but not past ready and even though she is gone, I’m glad she went before she wasn’t recognizable as Gus anymore. I feel completely detached right now so saying anything much else isn’t going to enlighten me to this loss and what it means. I just know for that for a long time that for sixteen years she was the best cat I could have ever asked for. I can’t even imagine how much I’m going to miss her.

You were so loved little buddy R.I.P. Gus.

I sit. In the same place for hours and listen to music and stare off into space; and that is it. According to my psychiatrist there are other depressed people who do this, not like that really makes me feel any better about it. I think about things, like how awesome it would be to read a book or write a post or do any number of things but I don’t do them. I sit. And then, when I do leave the apartment I’m fucking late for everything right now, which is uncommon for me. I did notice this getting worse a couple months ago actually but didn’t think much of it until I was late for my last two therapy sessions now, so something has to give here. I find it interesting how different depression is for me now. I never used to be able to even sit in my feelings; I would go to bed. In that sense I’ve made some odd progress because I can technically stand myself enough not to drug myself out and head back to bed. Not abusing my prescription medication is also good! Little PSA there as well.

The lack of motivation is killing me and no one can snap me out of it I have to snap myself out of it. I don’t want to be forced. Some of this is seasonal some of it is Gus, the end is drawing nearer on that one. Some of it is having issues letting go of a huge betrayal suffered a couple of months back but at the same time, with that betrayal I was also finally forced to learn a lesson, one that I have never wanted to learn and have fought learning for a really long time, that being, I simply can not have resolution to every single situation that goes wrong in my life. Some people are simply dip-shits and will remain that way no matter what I do or don’t say to them or about them. That is a really hard one for me. I believe in forgiveness and honesty even when it hurts and I generally see no reason why some sort of peaceful agreement can’t be reached but some people would rather be miserable or pretend they don’t care but what people forget and this always irritates the shit out of me is that it takes energy to hate, to dislike and to behave in petty ways. I waste the energy too, don’t get me wrong, but I try not to. Do or do not there is no try, I know this, but it is easier said than done. It was also said by a little green creature and written by an ego masturbator extraordinaire but that is beside the point, I will get over this betrayal at my own pace and there are more lessons to be learned here, I’m not quite ready to lift my ship from Dagobah yet so back off and get yer own light sabre.

Now that I have learned that I can not have resolution to everything that doesn’t work out in my life because I’m not seeking it out anymore, I have to learn how to let it go because this is a baby step process, fuck it is huge for me that I am even willing to accept this much, because having disagreements with people who mean something to me is generally very hard on me, I never take it well, my fears of abandonment kick in and I start saying stupid shit and Sabotage by the Beastie Boys starts playing on the soundtrack of my life running on repeat in the back ground.

I know that I MUST I MUST I MUST INCREASE MY BUST, but seriously I know I MUST keep getting the fuck out of the apartment and maybe I should even start posting the photos I have been taking. Tell some stories and shit, it is motivation I need. I wish I could buy some or that David Sedaris would ring my buzzer and finish reading this book to me. It is draining feeling this depressed every day. I want to pick up the book I want to sign into WordPress and write stuff but, but but but.. that is the problem!

SO I don’t know, I’m here and there and everywhere. Impressed, unimpressed, friend, foe, lover, hater, high, low. I’m going through something big. I think it has a lot to do with Gus being so close to the end. If being able to at least sit IN my feelings continues I may just get to the bottom of this here bout yet.

I have had a really shitty few months. I was hoping that after I quit my job that things would level off but as it turns out that is not to be as Gus is in her last couple / few weeks here. It sort of puts into perspective how ridiculous everything has been but it is also just a distraction. I can blame being depressed on the fact that Gus is dying for reals now. But I’m still depressed, I was before we got the news that she was taking her final turn on Monday.

I’ve been thinking so much concentrating on any one thing for more than a minute is futile. There are things I’m accepting about myself. And I say accepting because I’m attempting not to feel guilty about them which would mean that instead of feeling guilty all the time, I’m basically saying take it or leave it.

I’m accepting that I am never going to be easy to be friends with, or become friends with. I over share, I open up to fast, I wear my heart on my sleeve and in my twenties when I was dating and building friendships I never hid who I was, how messed up, self centered and selfish I was, I just was. I’ve always talked a lot, I’ve always been a story teller and if people didn’t like it I was in most cases able to have it roll right off me. I was young what did I really care if so and so didn’t like me. When a guy would dump me I remember I would try and help myself get over it by picturing their age if they were older and thinking how at their age I’d just be a notch on a board and they’d be a fleeting memory. But over the last few months I don’t think it is that wearing my heart on my sleeve isn’t working for me anymore it’s that my asshole meter and I keep trying to become friends with these already fucked up narcissists who just end up stomping my heart into a million little pieces. It is my fault as well, why not open up to friends I already have why do I need new ones, granted I figured that was healthy given I’m trying to work on getting out more and being more social. But I also feel like I’m getting older and that if people don’t like me, for who I am, then who am I? It feels lonelier than normal and I don’t want to change.

I wish I believed I deserved good things and good people in my life, I do have many but question why with how much and how badly I fuck up and I’m starting to feel too old to fuck up with the regularity that I do. It isn’t like I don’t know that people love me I just need resolution and when I can’t have it I go a bit insane or it is one of the things that sends me reeling.

Sometimes I think I’m a really shitty friend but then I also know that whenever someone really needs me I’m fucking there. I have always been a pretty recluse person and as I get older it only gets worse. I know that I’m hard, my walls are steep even with the extensive prologue I provide, but I know that I’m worth the extra effort. Life in general just doesn’t make it easy to remember that at times.

Between my health, the cat, heading back to work and trying to write for ThinkHero nothing has been going as planned. I don’t mind doing bullet point posts but only when the points are small and not all worthy of their own post.

I think one of the worst things we are dealing with is that Adam’s UI runs out next month. He’s in a union or he’d likely have found work by now. It has hit the point where we have no choice, he will have to leave the union or things will become dire. We’ve lived for almost seven years with no extended medical, I had it when I was still in corporate jobs but Adam wasn’t on it. Both of us having it for the period we did, with the medical problems we have or that have come up, it hasn’t even helped. For example, the most expensive of any of my medications is my allergy spray and it isn’t covered. Sure I need new lenses in my glasses but I’ll just keep having our medical stuff written off on our taxes like I always do.

I have returned to work as a PA on season 3 of Fringe. I’m feeling pretty good about myself having been called back for another season. Given this show films downtown as much as it does and because I’m back on my bike, getting to and from locations has just become about 80% easier. I’m still working on call / part time, but this works best for me. The longer I do this work the more I enjoy it, the work itself isn’t hard, it’s the hours that make the work hard, get used to those and you are good to go. And that is basically all I can say about that.

I’m feeling a tad overwhelmed because a lot of positive things seem to be coming in my direction, yet I’m terrified of my health, my depression, or my ‘I don’t deserve good things’ side of my brain taking over and fucking it all up. I invented self sabotage.

As mentioned I started writing for ThinkHero, I have gotten a few really good pieces up but my intent was to post more and now I’m paranoid I won’t be offering up enough to keep me on, to which my friends say “are you kidding me you are writing for free” to which I say – yes, but I said I was going to do such and such and now I’ve been sick and going for test after test after flippin’ test and go see this specialist and OH lets have a barium enema while we’re at it. That now means another four plus doctors have had their finger up my ass in the last month. I intentionally don’t even shave my INNER ass cheeks anymore. Fuck it, and I sport a 70′s bush too while I’m talking about pubes. Deal with it.

Not to mention:

My blood work has come back showing I have VERY low blood sugar and that I am hypoglycemic. This means I have to see another specialist because I do not as of yet have diabetes and part of the goal here is keeping it that way. Eating every three hours is a real new one for me. I’ve never had an eating disorder but I do not like food and I eat because I have to, not because I want to, making myself eat every three hours makes me feel like I’m going to barf, sucks it is already helping me feel better. No idea if it is affecting my moods because I have too much going on to look that deeply in upon myself yet. This explains A LOT of my complaints over the last few months, dizziness worse than my normal shitty balance falling over, I’m a clumsy pants nonsense, my over the top tiredness, low energy and dropping close to fifteen pounds off my already small frame. This was so odd for me because I’m used to losing weight when I’m depressed but aside from these complaints, mentally I’ve still been doing fairly well. We were chalking everything up to the stress of having no full time work since January but I was pretty sure it was more than that being pretty in-tune with when and why I’m losing or gaining weight.

Speaking of me MENTALLY my meds have been dropped again. I’m on the lowest amount of meds I’ve been in oh, shit maybe four years. There is only 25 mg between me and NO MORE Seroquel the least favourite of the three meds I take, I have MANY an argument or rather *words* with my psychiatrist about him putting me on Seroquel. I’ve stopped waiting for the ball to drop, and I’m really giving this feeling better stuff a go. As I’ve mentioned this doesn’t mean I don’t have BRUTALLY bad days where it is ALL I HAVE not to toss myself out in front of a bus, but I’m hanging onto the rails of the sanity train for dear life and I will keep riding it no matter how many people try and toss me off for as long as I can.

Now for the hardest news to share. Gus isn’t doing so good. When we went to Langley for the wedding we thought not hearing from my girlfriend was a good thing, turned out she didn’t want to ruin our weekend. We came home to find that Gus had attacked someone who had not only known her since 1996 but had sat her on numerous occasions some over two weeks long back when I used to be a travel agent. This has left us with some hard and shitty decisions that had to be made, because we can’t have Gus attacking our friends, we won’t be spending Christmas with our siblings, we won’t be able to see our friends in Tofino and probably the worst for my parents is we can’t go to Bali until…… … and I can’t risk going to Bali myself and missing my last month with her, she is having enough trouble with my having returned to work. She is also dropping weight at a rather drastic rate. So much so that we were going to take her in early for her six month check up. It is hard to believe it has already been a year since we had to put her on pain medication and up until about two months ago she was doing really well. Her blood work has all come back fine both times it has been taken, she doesn’t have any kidney or liver problems. We made the decision to wait until her check up in September. We get her weighed once a month when we pick up her medication and are being pressured to bring her in but here’s the deal; Having picked wee Gus when she was the runt of the litter and she wasn’t the last kitteh but she was the one I fell in love with even thinking she was a boy, I know her and I know that taking her in for blood tests in June instead of September is only going to have to have her pricked an extra time. Forget the cost, it has nothing to do with that, everyone knows we can’t afford this to happen right now but who is ever ready for this financially or mentally or fucking in any way. The fact remains that even though it is beyond heartbreaking when Gus goes to lay on the floor right now and her bones make a horrible sound as they hit the floor, she is happy, she has energy she is still feisty, she still sits with us, sleeps with us, she isn’t hiding. She is eating less, but she is drinking more. Gus has lived a great long life, she was my best little furry buddy and now she is our best furry little buddy and we are going to keep her comfortable as long as possible but not drag the inevitable out. She is dying of old age, plain and simple. It is really, really hard, I don’t know what I’m going to do without her. I don’t like to think that far ahead yet. It sneaks in sometimes, but I’m not ready.

To the dismay of Gus who likes blow up mats, we are empty nesters again, our guest Phaeds & her sock monkey Bobby have gone to their new place (woot congrats again buddd-dy) and with that means Dr. Vegas is basically alone and he is depressed. This makes almost no sense; he used to despise and spend almost all of his time plotting ways to eliminate other members of the army and now he is friends with some and is so depressed he can hardly sit up. He’s gone soft on us, I’d almost go as far as to call him a bit of a pussy, Adam says I can’t call him a pussy but I can say he is ‘acting like a pussy’.

Before:

(from left: Ho Chi Pimp, Bobby, Dr. Vegas)

After:

My intestines / ass haven’t been the same since I ended up in hospital so now I have to have a barium enema on July 20. Two people over 50 have told me they are not a big deal and Dr. Buttle (my shrink) figures it is IBS brought on by stress. I will save you the details of exactly what is going on but it isn’t pretty or pain free, it is also frustrating as I am pretty tired of things going wrong with my ass.

We we riding bikes in Stanley Park one day and we came across this gator and being they are my favourite animals on earth (YES, more than cats) I first of all could not believe I hadn’t seen it or heard about it being in there before, nor did I expect to end up in an epic death roll, thankfully I was wearing my bike helmet, I think I pissed it off while feigning to surf on its’ nose.

Some sad news, Narco didn’t make it, I have yet to find out what happened to the little guy nor do I know if any more cygnets have been born, I need a break from the heartache. The Lagoon has been waiting for eight years now for a cygnet to make it and it seems unlikely yet again this year. Hope I’m wrong on that one but none of the nature photographers I know who follow the cygnets as closely and some closer than I do have had new photos up.

R.I.P little Narco buddy.

FUNNY STORY TIME!!

I did something TODAY that I have wanted to do for YEARS but never had the balls to do. I only need to tell you a tiny bit of back story.

One of the penthouses in the building across from us faces straight into our living room and bedroom. When we first moved in here in 2004 out of my tiny bachelorette from down the hall the most interesting off all the new neighbors to make up life stories for was the lesbian couple in the penthouse mentioned, she barbecued year round and generally wore some form of work out wear or what could be considering gardening clothes but she never had a garden up there just a motion sensor light for the barbecue. When they moved out maybe a year and a half ago now I was actually sad. I felt comfortable naked in here and she was very entertaining and beyond fun to make up theoretical scenarios for, especially in the summer when her and her girlfriend would take to the patio with red wine in white robes. We even called them our lesbians. Since they moved out they haven’t been able to keep the place occupied. There are constant open houses and from the first one I mentioned to Adam that I wanted to go. I think he thought I was insane. But WHY NOT??? If not just to see exactly how much can be seen from there, ALL my curiosity surrounding what it looks like in there would be solved, and not only that, knowing what it looks like will I’m sure make it about ten times more fun to make up stories about future buyers. A couple days ago the latest owners moved out and while Adam and friend where out on a ride around the Sea Wall I could hear voices. I looked out the window and there is was another open house. Unwashed and with greasy hair I decided it was time to giver a go. I put on an outfit that at least covered my tattoos but had to leave flip-flops on because I’m sporting a blister the size of a grape right now on my heel and have to be in heels at a wedding next weekend so shoes are out for me right now and headed out giggling to myself as I walked down the stairs. I crossed the street and up to the penthouse I went, I walked in to see what appeared to be serious lookers and quickly scanned the area. WHOA way smaller than it looks from the outside for one. SHOCKING what $685,000 will buy you. I talked to the realtor telling him my parents lived in Bali (true) and were looking for a place to buy when they are back in the city for extended times for visits. (lie) Somewhere I ended up throwing in that I was thirty-two (true) because I could sense my youthful looks where throwing him. He said and I kid you not, “I was going to say this open house is for nineteen and over” NIIIIIIICE lately youngest someone has guessed is twenty-two (true) and they said they were being generous it was on the Fringe set. I walked out onto the balcony and looked into our place and could see the bike and the fan, I had left the blinds down but instantly confirmed that not only could you see in here you could probably see the zits on our asses if you looked carefully enough. As I walked back across the street feeling triumphant I instantly texted Adam with ‘I just did the craziest thing ever you are going to be so jealous’. I brought a pamphlet home so at least he can see what it looks like up there but I have been in there now. Awesome. And Adam is, totally jealous.

I’d also like to mention that I’m writing for a new site now called ThinkHero if you like sci-fi / comic books, movies, television, anime and video games then you should check it out. It is more of the sci-fi / supernatural / horror / action movies and shows type website with video reviews than romance and dramas. So far I have written an introduction piece which talks briefly about working as a production assistant on season 2 of Fringe and I will have an opinion piece on one of my favourite shows up soon. I’m excited to have somewhere new to write. Being that it is an American site out of Los Angeles I’m hoping the audience will grow fond of the wee Canadian and her opinions and such from Hollywood North. I’m still a bit nervous to say the least.