Friday, November 26, 2010

Harvard-bound

On another note...Natalie Portman is my new girl crush.  I dare you to watch this and not crack up laughing!  ($5 if you can provide video evidence of your lack of laughter)


Seriously, though, when did Harvard start churning out rappers? (just blame it on 'How High'... I call Shenanigans!)


Voices in my Head

I have an alternate personality.  No, it's not what you think.  That, luckily, is not one of my mental disorders. 

I have this side of me that likes to write.  So I named it. (smile)  In honor of some family members of mine I have created a fun little pen name for my as-yet-unpublished novels and such.  Check this chick out.  She's going places.  (at least she hopes).  Me?  I can't seem to get my life together; meanwhile she has, like, a billion writing projects she's working on.  You should most definitely follow her blog, and get her autograph while you still can!  Seriously, this is some pretty good stuff.  I know, I've read it.

Not that I'm tooting my own her horn or anything.

Check this out for yourself; here's a snippet from Vigi's newest project, To Never Be.

****************************
“What the fuck is your problem?” Maggie screamed, throwing her hands up in anger.
“Why did you come back?  So you can rub it in my face how good you’re doing without me?  So you can pull me in close and then run again?”
“Run?  Is that what you’re saying I did?  Oh come on, Jack, we both know you were tired of me.  I was cramping your style.  I gave you a way out; I gave you your freedom.”
Jack turned away from her and began fiddling with the loose material on his workbench.  He dropped his voice, afraid she might catch some inkling of emotion,
“I think you’d better go home, Maggie.”
She didn’t want to leave.  She wanted to run to him and wrap her arms around his neck, and kiss him like she used to when she’d realize she hurt him.
“Jack…” her voice was barely more than a whisper.  She didn’t know what to say.

“No.  Just go.”  And with that she turned away, the old familiar sting of tears in her eyes.  It was chilly outside with the sun starting to dip below the tree line.  Maggie felt a shiver run up her spine. She pulled her jacket closed and crossed her arms over her chest.  She breathed in to hold the brewing tears back and walked slowly out of the yard and down the road to her small cottage.
She walked into the house, not even bothering to turn on the lights, and made her way into the living room.  She stood a moment staring out the bay window at the reflection of the sun setting on the water.  It was beautiful.  And now she was safe.  Safe enough to let a tear roll down her cheek. Safe enough to let a sob escape her lips. 
And then in one swift motion she picked up a lamp from the end table beside her and slung it across the room, shattering it against the wall.  She put her hands up and covered her face, letting out a low scream and picked up a frame from the mantle, this time smashing it to pieces on the floor.  Bit by bit Maggie moved around the living room, breaking everything she could until she was left breathless, panting for air, glass everywhere.  Still not satisfied with this burst of anger, she sunk down onto the couch and cried herself to sleep.
****************************

Eh?  So, whatcha think?  Leave some feedback, people!

Thursday, November 25, 2010

A Cruel Sort of Torture

Have you ever been so frustrated for no reason at all but it made you want to scream at the top of your lungs?  Oh.  Just me?  Liar.

The gloom of Winter is well on it's way, and I've learned more and more over the past few years just how horrible an enemy it can be.  Winter is some cruel invention of nature intended to punish all manic-depressive people.  I swear.  Why would I make something like that up?

For me it's like this horrible feeling just creeps up and it permeates my whole life.  My mood is crappy; I'm irritable, and the littlest things seem to bother me.  ('How was work, Jess?' 'Shut the f--- up, that's the stupidest thing you've ever asked me!'...yeah, like that)  I'm stressed about everything, easily depressed, and my neurotic thoughts pop up at every turn.  I feel like I can barely function some days.  I feel hopeless alot.  And lonely.  That's the worst.

It's like Hell.  Really.  My own personal Hell on Earth.  It's Doom, and I'm Reaper, chasing my inner demons around this stupid, poorly designed series of maps (my brain...) and at the end I think I'm free (Yay!) but I jump in the teleport-thing and Bam!  More Hell (Ahhhh! Noooooo!).  And I'm sad.  And just so lonely, but when I ask for attention I then feel guilty, and it's like 'I should be alone with my thoughts' (WTF?  How does that work?) so I can sort through all the crap I'm feeling.  Sound like Hell, yet?

Well, this winter, I'm actually conscious and aware of what's going on.  In the past I never really thought enough about it to place the connection between the season and my moods; the lack of light on the chemical inbalance in my head.   But I've decided I'm not going to let it get out of control this year.  I'm looking into some herbal and homeopathic "remedies" (bring on the jokes, b----es!) and will keep you abreast (insert pun here) of my progress.  Apparently they call this being proactive.

I've learned from the always reliable Internet that the following are good for the Winter Blues:

St. John's Wort (been there, done that, makes good tea)
Passiflora
Skullcap (unfortunately, I do not own any skullcaps...is a beanie ok?)
Calc carb
Alumina (Hey! I used to drive one of those.  What does it have to do with mental health?!?)
Aurum met
Nat mur
Kali phos

Ok, so I don't know what half of that shit is, but I'm willing to try anything.  Wish me luck?

I think that's all for today folks.  Stay tuned for more fun times with Jess, The Poor Lunatic from Around the Way.

Next time: Voices in my Head

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Ok, then?


WTF?!?  Why do celebrities get away with wearing this crap?
I guarantee, if it was I who had worn this to work, I would be fired on the spot.

On another note, working on Friday's post.  It'll be very insightful, and all.  Promise.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

The Odds of This Blog Lasting More Than a Week...

Hi, I'm Jess.  I have a slight case of ADD, I'm manic-depressive, I'm neurotic as shit...and have been known to act a little psychotic from time to time.  Welcome.

I've been doing some soul-searching lately -- come on? I'm neurotic and md, of course I've been soul-searching...for, like, my entire life -- and I've come to the realization that a blog just may be a good source of release and therapy for me.  Mostly because I cannot afford nor do I want to pay for a therapist just so I can do their job for them.  But it doesn't take a genius (like me!) to figure out that my personal combination of neuro-napalm is quite detrimental to inter-personal relationships.  ...That means it makes my fiance hate me sometimes, brainiac.

So I thought 'what can I do to stop myself from pushing him away and missing out on some great opportunities in life?'  (Oh! Oh!  I know!  Pick me!)  Well for starters, I can keep my mouth shut and not say every stupid, lousy, nagging damned thing I think of when I'm talking to him.  I need to trust, and back off, and not jump to horrible conclusions when he takes some time to hang out with friends on the weekend.  And I need some kind of outlet for all my bad mojo.  'Like a blog?'  Ding!  You got it, want a cookie?

So join me (daily? weekly?) -- or not, I don't care -- in my adventures dealing with craziness, and trying to maintain communication and happiness in my (hopefully, if I don't f--- it up) future marriage engagement.


...and to answer the question -- the odds of this blog lasting more than a week aren't very high.  I am ADD, afterall!  But, hey! We can try!