Shhh's blog: "Courtroom Confession"

I recently attended a baby shower for a girl a grew up with up. I still remember sitting next to this almost too thin, nervous, lil bird on the bus in sixth grade. Funny but she is all grown up now. When you become ill and then disabled at 22 you lose alot of the so called normal life. I saw my friends go off to college, graduate, marry the perfect husband, buy the perfect house, car, and now start having children, meanwhile I was spending time trying to desperately cling to my sanity. And believe me there is a big difference in trying to decide which flowers to buy for your wedding and trying to decide if you should listen to that voice in you head that is telling you that your father is the devil. These things, well, they hurt and if there is one thing I can say I haven't copped out on is the pain my illness has inflicted on me. Now back to the baby shower. The room was full of about 20 of Vermont's finest princesses. These girls had no clue how great their lives were they could not even imagine or comprehend, the loneliness of my solitude, the depths of my despair, or over all hopelessness. Had they walked one year in my shoes, they would probably be dead. Looking back, they seem like such precious, fragile lil things in their superficical, surface dwelling lil worlds. Anyway, I don't really know where I'm with this except that I still love my friend even though she is a princess that will never really know me or understand me again. But I swear I will bitch slap the next fucking princess that makes some colorful comment about crazy people without knowing how much they suffer.

Seems to me, there is a double standard. Some people proclaim their honesty like a badge. They proclaim and convince themselves "I'd rather be honest and hurt you then lie to you." I happen to think this complete bullshit. First because usually when they say be honest they mean "Don't lie to me!" However, more often then not they are really lying to themselves. They take the "tough love" stance. To me this is nothing more then people with a SM streak to be really mean and hurtful. Which really boils down to a power trip..."I get off on hurting you because I want someone else to feel the pain I feel too." Being a liar, or being honest doesn't really matter I guess,NO ONE really lasts very long in the instant karma game. Think about that for a moment... Alas, the truth ray gun hurts no doubt. Would you have it pointed at you? In the immortal words of Eric Clapton: "Before you accuse me...take a look at yourself." And Jewel..."in the end, only kindness matters." I don't know...maybe I'm being too honest eh?

It happened again on Christmas eve; she lit the frankensence, removed the rags of crimson, and crown of roses from the angel. She adorned her with garments of light and dark blues and whites, placed Love at her forehead. She hummed to herself, lost in her own little world..."pick up your china doll, it's only fragile and just a little nervous from the fall..." She washed her tear stained sheets and bedding and sprinkled the pillows and fresh blankets with myrrh tears for healing. The voice told her lay down. So she lay clutching her rosary. She started taking deep medative breathes. The scent of the air all around her had become pure and fresh. Her body numbed out, and became paralyzed, she couldn't move. All she could do was breath this air. A faint smile came to her lips and feeling of peace and security filled her. She lay like this for quite a while...until she broke out in giggles and started move a bit. Raphael* was whispering sweet nothings in her ear again. She had spent the day running a mental marathon. Epic battles with the Devil for her soul. Raphael...you pulled me through again, love you my sweet. *Raphael=God has healed. Archangel.

Today at Vocational Rehab I found out the results of my career testing. I scored above average on verbal and writen communications. My spelling and grammar was awesome which, blew my mind too! lol I showed an average aptitude for science, and my math and problem solving skills were below average. LOL, so anyway there goes my archeology dream! I was like if I knew how to solve problems I wouldn't be going to a therapist now would I? A possible career path I'm looking at is court reporting. First because of my commication aptitude and listening skills but I'd be lying if I said that the average yearly income for a court reporter is like $61,830....woohooo!, didn't interest me. LOL...Yep, sign me up! Well, it seems like a lot of money to me. Folks when you live on about 9,000 a year for a few years, you start to get greedy. So that's the latest news from Shhhland. Oh yeah, I was seriously disappointed, I went to get my tongue pierced the other day but the guy wouldn't do it...said my tongue was too little! Little bitty baby tongue...Oh well, what are you going to do?

Amazon Women Rule!

"The Invitation" "It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing. It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for your adventure of being alive. It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human. It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless, and therefore trustworthy. I want to know if you can see beauty, even when it's not pretty, everyday, and if you can source your own life from its presence. I want to know if you can live with failure, yours or mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver moon, "YES!" It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and still do what needs to be done to feed the children. It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back. It doesn't interst me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away. I want to if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments." ~Oriah Mountain Dreamer~ "Heal Over" It isn't very difficult to see why You are the way you are Doesn't take a genius to realise That sometimes life is hard It's gonna take time But you'll just have to wait You're gonna be fine But in the meantime Come over here baby Let me wipe your tears away Come a little nearer baby Cuz you'll heal over Heal Over Heal over someday And I don't want to hear you tell yourself That these feelings are in the past You know it doesn't mean they are off the shelf Because Pain is built to last Everybody sails alone But we can travel side by side Even if you fail You know no one really minds Come over here baby Let me wipe your tears away Come a little nearer baby Cuz you'll heal over Heal Over Heal over someday Don't hold back but don't let go I know it's so hard You've got to try to trust yourself I know it's so hard Come over here baby Let me wipe your tears away Come a little nearer baby Cuz you'll heal over Heal Over Heal over someday ~KT Tunstall~

Let's face it folks, I have a cat and a vibrator, and that's all I've had for comfort for at least year. Recently I discovered the difference between love and lust. See to me, Love is someone who asks how your day was and really means it and listens to your problems with empathy and sympathy. Lust on the other hand doesn't take the time to get know you but simply says "Take your pants off." This is new to me, what may be old to you. For such a long time I saw sexual conquest as medication for my low self esteem. But all it really is, is empty. Now the dilema seems to be the fact that I haven't been socially near a man for so long that, the mere smell of him ( because let's face it folks it's all pharemones) would drive me into sexual frenzie. LOL! See now I have a hard time reconziling my need for Love at the highest most spiritual point and my instinct, human drives and desires. I am forever when doing an OSHO Zen tarot reading drawing the "politican" card. And what is that you ask? Well to me it means I can't find a happy medium between my lofty spiritual pursutes and my instincts. However the card explains that they are both masks...none of us is completely sweet and innocent...and yet none of us completely degenerate. Ben Harper says "some are baptised by water and some are baptised by flames" I think I was mistakenly baptised by flames because last summer we moved into this house and I ended up with the basement room which happens to have a fake fireplace. Really cute lil thing with artificial flames and all...one night the whiskey was running high and the music loud and I danced all night. Like I had never ever heard such sweet music or felt the ellation of moving my hips to the music, danced like I have never danced in my life to dim fire light...mom says I gave myself freedom...but maybe I was baptised by flamed and didn't know it? Anyway there's a point to this lol....sorry I'm drunk...I long to be baptised by water too...in that pursuit find real love.

Hello All, I'm on my second glass of wine and I find my tongue loosened. I'm a 27 year old woman who was dxed with Paranoid Schizophrenia when I was 22. My illness probably started with depressive phases in my teens, but the Psychosis really hit when I was 20. I suffered serverly for the next two years with the realization and denial, multiple relapses. I finally got sick of the craziness around 22 or 23 and stayed on meds for good. Unfortunately that those meds made me gain 80 pounds and sedated me to the point of drinking 6-8 cups of coffee a day without it touching my inertia. On a somewhat good note over the summer, I stopped my antidepressants which the side effects were becoming worse than the helping properties, I promtly lost 30 lbs. so far. I found a new doc and went through another med change...which finally seems to be on the up swing...however, the over the holidays I was in the theroes of psychosis...slowly recovering now... Anyway, all this is to explain that I'm painfully shy and guarded due to my illness and if you don't hear back from me, it's not because because I don't like you...it's just that my shell is thick and besides that after reading this do you really still want to be my friend anyway? LOL What does my topography of my madness look like? And I only say madness because to me it sounds more romantic lol. When really there is nothing romantic about it. It's a constant LSD trip, a constant conspiracy, a constant contemplation of what if's, and could be's... I'll explain more later...to be continued...