Water Bed Dream!

ORIGINALLY POSTED AT MY PINK POSSE BLOG ON OR NEAR
Sun, Sep 5, 2010 at 12:39 PM

NOTE: Dot is a Kitten my sister brought to me 2 years ago and I took
care of her for a few months before giving her to a rescue group.

Hello Pinkies,
I'm not sure that one has anything to do with the other, but Dot
started having seizures again last night. I took her to get shots last
Monday, & the vet said she'd need her next set of shots in 3 weeks.
She also said that giving her seizure meds this early could do more
harm then good. Of course, she had stopped having seizures at the time
anyway, so I thought things would be fine.
So last night she started having them again & had 4 that I know about,
between 11:40PM & 8:23AM.
So I didn't realize how much I was awake with her, but it must have
been alot, because I was exhausted this morning. Things seemed to have
calmed down & so I went to sleep.
At some point, I was with my best friend Holly. I didn't realize it at
the time, but the bed we were sleeping on must have been a waterbed.
Lol. The reason why I say that *& the part that makes my dream so
totally weird*, is that I kept having this need to go swimming,
repeatedly in the dream, & every time she & I went swimming, all we
did was pull the blankets & cover off the bed! Lol. So we went
swimming INSIDE the BED in other words! Even I've never had a dream
like that before! I finally woke up when we were getting ready for
bed. We'd been lazing around watching TV, & then all the channels
signed off for the night. Yes, this was an old TV & back in the day,
though since I remember sign offs, I'd guess it was in the early 90's
*& we didn't even know each other until 1996! Lol.
But anyway, we had gone swimming Lord only knows how many times,
watched TV etc, & then it was time for bed. I woke up because I was
mad at the TV. Holl was fine with it, but I was like:
"No! You know I can't sleep with nothing on friend!" Lol. & then I woke up.
So I'm wondering now if I was looking for something, searching in the
water in the bed *considering how many times we went swimming*! Not
that I can think of what it was, & I'm not the greatest dream
interpreter, but I read in one of Sylvia Brown's books the importance
of dreams, so now I'm trying to figure them out when I have weird,
indecipherable ones like this.
Thank you for sticking with me through this long read.
I know someone else just posted a dream post yesterday, I swear I
don't know how mine came on the heels of hers! Smile
Love,
Chelle

Suicide

ORIGINALLY POSTED AT MY PINK POSSE BLOG ON OR NEAR
Fri, Jul 30, 2010 at 3:36 PM

I'm home from your place unfortunately. I'm back here again!
Here where there's no room, here where there's no hope! Here where
there's nothing to permanently make me overcome these things, these
thoughts, this fucking place!
We got in the car & I told him you printed off directions for me!
Directions so I could go to this garage sale & see if they have a
treadmill! Something so small & insignificant, but something I would
use! Just one tiny change in my life.
He said:
"Where would we put it?"
He said:
"Why does this place have to be in Bay City! Why is everything so far away!"
He said:
Yeah, YOU need to do what's best for you, change your life. & I need
to do what's best for me, to change my life."
He said when I gave him his money:
"Yes, my $200 a month that I have to pay for gas just to go all over the place."
He said:
"You can move to San Antonio now. My family is there. You don't have
to wait for me."

& everything went away. The great feelings that Amy & Laura have tried
to spark went away. I don't have time to wait until next week for
someone on Craigslist to write me & offer help. I don't have time to
wait for the transportation, for the driver, for the money. I don't
even have time for volunteering. I need what I need, money &
transportation, NOW, today! Nevermind that things don't work like
that. That's what I NEED, NOW!
I need my own house so I'll have room for MY TREADMILL, so I won't
have to beg him to make room for me. I need my own money so I can pay
my own driver so I can go where I NEED to go to do what I NEED to do.
& I need it NOW! Right NOW!
Everything is slipping away again. Amy's suggestions that make me feel
so good, Laura's pushing me to do things that I hate that make me feel
better after I do them.
You & I going to the fair yesterday & that feeling of freedom!!! It's
all gone! Just GONE!!
Now I'm crying. I'm thinking about the alcohol I bought yesterday &
figuring I could drink all 6 bottles tonight, Hell, right now. Forget
tonight! I could do it now!
It won't solve anything in the long run, but I'll feel to good & sleep
to long to feel anything in the short term. I'll think about you &
fluffy baby lambs & riding on the Fireball all by myself yesterday!
I'll think of all the good times & they won't hurt anymore! I'll just
be happy again! Even if it's only for tonight!
This happens everytime. People say believe in change, ask the
universe, it'll come! Well it'll come has come & gone. His flexibility
even for the small things has gone. His patience, his tolerance for
me, his closest, favorite daughter, has come & gone. He's tired of
helping, tired of driving, tired of not having money, he's tired of
everything!
I don't blame him. It hurts me, but I don't blame him. I just love
him. I'm crying to hard to feel any other way, to think any other
thoughts.
I can't hate him even when I try.
I've been asking, been reaching & the results aren't varying. Their
the same. & if this is what happens when I ask for a treadmill, how
can I ask for something bigger? If noone replies to me on craigslist
when I ask for a blind person who was in my situation & overcame it,
how can I ask for a volunteer position or a driver when I have nothing
to offer?
& don't tell me how I provide comfort, how I make people laugh &
smile, that's not good enough. If that were good enough to get by, I'd
be getting by! But I'm not. Don't tell me people would miss me, they
love me, I don't care. That's not solving anything! It's not fixing
anything!
24 years of this, & one more makes 25. I'd rather call it a life now.
No point in waiting til my birthday. No point in making it a sad
occasion. No point in making them, you wait any longer. You'll find
other friends & they'll find other family, my sisters will get married
& have kids & add to the family pool.
& everyone else, you can't miss someone you don't REALLY, TRULY know,
INSIDE & OUT. So they won't miss me for long either.
Noone will & that's just the way I want it. Don't miss me, be happy &
move forward!
Chelle

"So Close To You"

ORIGINALLY POSTED AT MY PINK POSSE BLOG ON OR NEAR
Sun, Jun 27, 2010 at 9:57 PM

It's been so long since we were this close.
I can feel your breath blow gently across my face.
You lean in & kiss me & I'm fairly certain I've left myself.
I run my fingers through your hair.
I rub your back & caress your face.
There's so many people but they cease to exist when I'm this close to you.

This close. So close & yet so far.
How can it be? How am I so close to you but not?

You ask me to stay & I wish I could!
I want to so badly, you have no idea!
This isn't the first time I've been here.
I've been here before, but it's still different.
Then again, I guess every time is different.

I'm so close to you. So close & yet so far.
How can it be? How am I so close to you but not?

I take your big soft hands in mine.
I feel them, massage them.
I even touch your nails just because I can.
I like them. Their perfect!
Then again, you're perfect!
You with all your rage, all your imperfections.
You are perfect in them.

I'm so close to you. So close & yet so far.
How can it be? How am I so close to you but not?

You hold me tightly & say you have to go.
I want to beg you to stay, but that's not dignified.
You say
"Be careful!
Get home safe. . ."
I think if I were riding with you, I would be safe.

I'm so close to you. So close & yet so far.
How can it be? How am I so close to you but not?

I give you your treat & you act like it's the first time.
Your body fills with excitement & so does mine.
To add insult to injury, you lean down for another round of kisses
before you depart.
I silently urge you on & hold your body tight against mine.
I know this will all come to nothing, but I don't care!
So go on! Give me your kisses & affection.
Their all I need to keep me moving, so go on, give them to me.

I'm so close to you & yet so far.
How can it be? How can I be so close to you but not?

"Take It!!"

I stood in the doorway waiting for you to acknowledge my presence.
You didn't. You had your back turned & kept it that way.
It seems your back is always turned to me.
Psychology says make I statements instead of you statements.
Well screw psychology! I'm about to make the most unpolitically
correct statement there is!
This, all this is your fault! For once, you will take the blame!
For once I won't feel shame.
I won't feel guilt or lowly gratitude when you pay attention to me.
Not this time! You will feel it, not me!

I still stand here in this doorway, waiting hoping.
I know you'll let me down, you always do!
It's the one thing I can count on you for!
It's the one thing you're good for, good at!
Your back is still turned.
Your attention is still elsewhere & that's okay.
Today it's okay, because I'm leaving.
No more waiting & hoping, no more crushed dreams & blind faith.
No longer will I be the doormat you so brazenly stamp your feet on.
I'm done!

I move away from the door, slamming it behind me with such force it
nearly comes out the other side of the frame.
You finally turn towards me. You finally acknowledge me!
You finally cry for me!
But I don't care now!
All you've stood for is meaningless!
Everything you've said emptiness!
& you, you are now, finally, worthless!
Does it feel good?
Do you like it?
May I offer you some salt for your open wounds?
You can have it, I don't need it anymore!
Take it! Take it! Take it!!!

Reaction To Three and a Half Days Blog Post

Hello All,
So, it looks like I've gotten all the most important posts out now! I
just need to keep on top of Pink News & my email, hahahaha!!

So onto my next topic.
I said that the 3 & a half days topic left me with things to say.
Before we go any further, I NEED to say this is coming from me, my
twisted thoughts, so let's make that clear.
I believe everything that was said is true & correct, & whether we
have x amount of time to live or not, we should never take our
lives/loved ones for granted.

I however, have had a long relationship with death. When I was born my
face was completely open. If you can imagine the open face of a baked
potato, that's how my face was, split down the middle. I not only had
holes where my eyes should have been, I also had holes right under
where the eyes should have been, & my top lip looked like it was
perfectly split down the middle & instead of covering my top teeth, it
covered those holes.
And of course, my hard palate was wide open. I didn't eat anything
cold for the first two years of life for fear the liquid would get up
into my brain & cause a literal "brain freeze".
Because my face was open, I was swallowing the amneotic fluid that
should have been protecting me. Not only was I swallowing it, but I
was basically drowning in it because I couldn't stop myself from
drinking it.
They told my parents I shouldn't be alive at all. It was the typical
'give her 72 hours & then we'll see what happens.'
I was taken by ambulance to Motts Children's hospital 2 hours away
from Saginaw & my parents. I was born at Saginaw General.
My mom couldn't see me until Saturday (I was born on Tuesday). At
Motts they gave me liquids through a feeding tube. I made it through
the 72 hours & then they said:
'She'll be weak. She'll be sickly. She could be mentally disabled.'
They even went so far as to ask my parents if I had a name & write
down every time they changed me, held me, fed me, basically any time
they touched me. (After they could come see me).
So I was already supposed to have died & I hadn't. Then came the
surgeries themselves. Surgeries to fix my clubbed (turned in) foot,
close my palate (still not completely closed), skin grafts taken from
buttocks, arm cartlidge from behind both ears, fat from my neck (into
my lips & face), two skull grafts (also into my face), & two ribs
removed (in one surgery & put into my face) all to build up bone
structure. The first surgery they ever did ballooons were placed into
my cheeks & a tube into my head to inflate said balloons, so they
could do the latter closures & repairs.
Some of those surgeries were more serious then others, but I could
have died during any of them. Then there was the kids who hated me &
finally, myself, putting myself at risk.
The kids punched me, usually in the face. If any of them had punched
me hard enough, those bones would have broken. They could have became
floaters, just floating loosely around in my face & if they'd reached
my synus cavity, I wouldn't be here writing this post.
& me. I go to amusement parks, concerts & get in the mosh pit. The
mosh pit is the most dangerous place for me, as I said, flying fists,
a shoe to the head, etc. But I go because I love it. The feeling of
being up there, so close to the band & releasing all that hate & rage
& pain is something I can't express adequately with my words alone.
You have to be there & you have to be able to see it through my eyes.
Nevermind that the very first time I attempted suicide I was only 6
years old. I tried to hang myself with some rope. I couldn't find any
rope though & mom & Dad woke up wanting to know what I was doing. I
lied & went back to my room. After that I started scratching my palms
& the backs of my hands with my fingernails. I would get angry if
something didn't work & bang my head against whatever was there. A
bedpost, the dresser, a door it didn't matter to me. I thought
incessantly about how I could kill myself. Belts, scarves, putting my
own hands around my throat, drowning, or maybe I could be brave &
drink cleaning supplies or alcohol (I never did those). By the time I
was in middle school I was ripping clumps of my hair out & leaving
myself with bald spots that were chalked up to stress. At least,
initially. After all, school was stressful on me. Then I started
pouring pills into glasses of water & sticking my fingers in them to
feel them melt. I wasn't able to convince myself to drink the water,
but I'd mix pills after a while.
By the time high school came I was taking pills, but only painkillers
& not often. If I had surgery I'd be in pain & not take them telling
everybody I was fine. But 6 months later when I wanted to die I'd take
two handfulls of them. My parents trusted me, even though it was a
misplaced trust they didn't know it was. When I was 18, my parents
marriage was falling apart, but it just shattered. It didn't fall
apart slowly, one day they were living together, & within a month & a
few odd days, my mom had left. I new it was breaking & I didn't want
to have to witness it again like I did their separation when I was 3,
so I tried to slit my wrists with a regular shaving razor. Didn't
work, but I finally told them what I'd done. mom was furious. She
proceeded to scream at me & act like she hadn't ever done it herself.
Dad for his part just lost it. He went & bought beer I don't know how
much he drank, the rest of that night was kind of a blur. Holly was
the most supportive person there. She & another friend brought over
Oreo cookies & I ate the whole bag while we talked.
After that though, I wasn't so scared & it got easier to hurt myself.
Even easier then it was before & I'd use scissors or a knife. Not
often, I was strange in one sense. I wasn't an all the time anything.
Whether it was a cutter, a pill taker, I didn't do it all the time. My
thoughts were all the time, every day all day, but I'd hold it in
until I absolutely couldn't anymore which usually meant a few times a
year.
I'm sorry this is so long, but I needed to write all that to get to my
thoughts today, right now.
I read the 3 & a half days post & felt incredibly sad for everyone
involved. I thought it was cruel & sad & I was genuinely moved by the
question it posed.
What would we do if we only had a certain amount of time left.
I could do the noble thing & say I'd get closer with my family, be
more forgiving, more tolerant of myself & my actions. . .
But the truth is, I've known that death was there all my life & while
I love my Dad & would be crushed if he died, while I love Holly &
Elias & Shaun & would be devistated if they died, my own mortality
doesn't have the same affect on me. I would want to know that I
changed the world for better before I died. That being said, I also
honestly don't care if I die. The only thing I can say is that I want
to die in my sleep, or if I have to die by other means, I want to be
unconscious & not realize that I'm dying.
To actually say that I care though & don't want to die would be an
incorrect statement. I'm still not at that point where I love myself
so much that I want to be here. If I was told that the rest of my life
would be living with my parents, getting SSI every month & not
becoming a humanitarian, not helping adults & children & animals, I'd
be ready to die tonight. I could die happily knowing that I met Elias
& Shaun & spent time with Holly & her girls (cats) & my girls (dog &
cat), & Dad & that I new they loved me & I loved them & that was that.
I'm slowly working towards better things. I'm thrilled to be here &
talk with people who sincerely care about each other's wellbing &
happiness. I feel better knowing that I can be a part of it, so I am
improving & I know that & acknowledge it.
This is where I'm at right now in my life though & here's to hoping it
only gets better!
Lots of pink love,
Chelle

To Let Go

To let go doesn't mean to stop caring;

It means I can't do it for someone else.

To let go is not to cut myself off...

It's the realization that I can't control another...

To let go is not to enable,

but to allow learning from natural consequences.

To let go is to admit powerlessness,

which means the outcome is not in my hands.

To let go is not to try and change or blame another,

I can only change myself.

To let go is not to care for, but to care about.

To let go is not to fix, but to be supportive.

Week 2: Lesson 8, Loss VS. Gain

1. Dad left when I was 3, came back when I was 4.
Gain: My Dad and I have an even stronger bond than I think we may have
had otherwise. I learned that I could trust him to be there for me, to
come back for me, that he wouldn't leave me.
2. My inocence, which I have honestly never felt I had even when I was
tiny. Surgeries, being held down for poking and prodding, needles and
the like took that away.
Gain: When I tell someone "I understand. . ." you can bet money on it
that I sincerely try to place myself in their shoes, something I don't
believe most people try to do.
3. My childhood *for the same reasons as above*.
Gain: I've retained a childlike quality that has had definite
advantages over the years, especially when around uptight 'grown-ups'!
Smile.
4. My mom abandoning us when I was 18 and hardly being available even
before that. She suffers from clinical depression and even when
medicated was eratic at times.
Gain: That I can take the good from our relationship and turn it loose
on my Children when I have them!
5. Abuse from kids, being punched kicked and spit on.
Gain: I know how damaging bullying REALLY is and am looking forward to
one day participating in some kind of campaign against it. I'd love to
see it brought to the congressional floor and made illegal *there are
already whispers that this may be coming to pass*.
6. Learning that adults could not be trusted to protect me *school
officials blew my parents off until we sued the school and they were
found guilty of neglegence among other things*. Even after that though
I didn't feel safer. People on the whole have proven time and time
again that they will laugh, point, stare or gather up friends and
family to come stare at me when I'm out in public at times, even to
this day.
Gain: I've managed to retain my humanity and still have an addiction
*Desire isn't strong enough of a word* to help others.
7. My brother's suicide via methamphetamine overdose.
Gain: Not sure.
8. A loss of personal space and even more important than that, a
belief I developed that my body didn't belong to me, rather it
belonged to my parents, my doctors/nurses, even to strangers who have
come up and put their hands on my face without permission.
Gain: My autobiography that I'm working on. "The Messenger Unveiled"
Observation: I've done my absolute best. Reading over this, I've seen
where I've made similar comments before, just written them in
different ways. I have fought this idea in the past, abiding by the
fake it till I make it statement. If I say it enough, write it enough,
think it enough I'll believe it. Now as I look over these losses and
'gains' I find myself feeling on one hand very similar, like these are
just made up answers for this 'homework'. On the other hand, I see the
validity of SOME of them, which is a giant improvement over my usual
all or nothing feelings and attitude.
4, dealing with my mother feels untrue and I left 7 blank for the same
reason. I did try to think hard about what I may have gained from my
brother's death. . . Truth is that year my dog Grace died 1/2309, my
brother died 09/07/09, my sister's dog Duke the second weekend in
November and my cat Snowball just one day before Thanksgiving ALL in
that year. Needless to say that was hell and finding a silverlining on
death tends to elude me unless the person is old and has lived a full
life. I thought about writing "My brother treated me like his baby
princess, thereby teaching me how valuable I was so I gained him while
he was here." That felt insincere. I thought about saying that his
loss gained me the opportunity to step up and eulogize him at his
memorial service, but this to feels fake. Truth is I'm always the
strong one, the 'rock' to the point that being strong is not a good
thing in my book these days, it just means your the one who gets
picked for the most unsavory jobs or volunteers for them, 'because I
can and others can't'. Being strong for me is also equated with
burying emotions, not crying in front of others, instead letting them
cry on you and lean on you.
Alternately I've been moving towards the opposite, crying a bit more
frequently, but still alone or only with those I trust most. My coach
or my BFF. I'm beginning to recognize it as a strength. It's just been
corrupted for me like laughter. They say that laughter is the best
medicine, but I can just as easily laugh hysterically so I won't
collapse and drown myself in an ocean of tears. So some of those very
same healthy coping mechanisms have become unhealthy for me because I
rely on them too much.
At any rate, these are my answers. Smile.

Week 1: Lesson 7, Creating A Space For Love

This posed a problem for me, so I reached out to my group asking for support.
Because this is an action step and not necessarily a 'writing step' the blog that follows is an excerpt of me asking for help and explaining WHY I need the help.
Welcome to my ever cluttered life!! Smile.
 I live with my Dad and am completely unsure of how
to complete the exercise of creating a space for love.
I'm wondering if you have any suggestions if you'd be willing to share?
Space is tight here and my family is not all welcoming and lovy-dovy.
 I wouldn't ever invite a love into this house. We're right on top
of each other, the family room is at one end of the house and the three
bedrooms are at the other end. My Dad and I share a wall, my other
wall connects to the bathroom and the bathroom wall connects to my
stepsisters' room. You can hear ANYTHING and EVERYTHING going on from
room to room. TV watching, music listening, bathing, you get the idea.
The second issue I have is that yes my room is cluttered because I do
everything in here. So there's a TV, a computer, two stereos, you get
the idea.
I have no room that I could move my computer and TV to.
This also means my room is cluttered. I've cleaned out what I could
and am in the process of throwing away or giving away what I don't
need. At the moment when you open my door and walk into my room the
right wall has a box of print papers and a bag of CD'S on top that
I've been meaning to get rid of, just waiting for someone to take me
to Goodwill to drop them off. Then there's a table with my food on it,
boxed and canned goods and my telephone. After that it's my computer
desk with my computer and my biggest stereo. Next to that is a box
with more print papers and a couple VHS tapes in it. The wall there
contains another skinny tall shelf with a few stuffed animals *my
faves, I boxed up the rest of them*, my toiletries and the like. Next
to that is my dresser with my TV and DVD player on top. Next to that
is my closet and next to that a coat rack. Then there's a wall with my
bed against it. That wall also has a window. Finally my last wall
contains the head of my bed, my nightstand with my microwave and my
baby stereo on top of that. Next to that is my CD shelf and my bedroom
door.
Needless to say, I think you get the idea of just how cluttered things
are. So getting two nightstands or a double bed would be nearly
impossible, even if I had the money for those items. Smile. I already
store everything including food and toiletries in my room so I'm not
sure about buying pairs of coco mugs or even towels. I'd have nowhere
to put them but in my dresser. Smile. I would think this wouldn't make
them out and welcoming.
The assignment is to in fact, prepare for love by putting things out in pairs, making room in your closet for another to put their things, etc.
Still waiting to hear back from some of the group, but I was about to put up Lesson 8 and thought I needed to put up lesson 7 first!! Lol.
Happy reading!
Again, thank you to anyone whose reading this, you are AWESOME!!

Week 1: Lesson 5, My Desires

I Desire to be pregnant with a Baby girl!!
I Desire a fulfilling career working with both human and animal Babies!
I Desire a secondary career of public speaking, educating people about
numerous things ranging from people who are facially disfigured or
visually impaired to bullying and why it's so harmful to a child's
psyche and should be taken extremely seriously and dealt with
immediately!
I Desire for there ALWAYS to be music in my life, concerts with my
favorite artists as well as having a band of my own for fun, a band
that takes songs like "Smells Like Teen Spirit" Nirvana, and plays
them on pianos, cellos, violins, flutes, using instruments to play
rock songs that you wouldn't typically expect to be used!
I Desire to have material possessions with stories behind them, that
are important to me, not just there to show off how wealthy my family
is!
I Desire money on a grand scale, think Bill Gates kind of money, that
I may provide to fund research and cures for diseases, to build
schools for children here and abroad, to create rehab facilities for
drug addicts and alcoholics, homeless shelters for the homeless, no
kill animal shelters for cats dogs horses and other domesticated
animals in need, more trauma centers, environmental facilities. . .
Enough money to help make this world a better place in any way
possible.
I Desire sexual experimentation with both sexes and ultimately a
loving home, a place of unconditional love between myself and a
partner or partners *just depending upon how my sexuality plays
herself out during exploration*.
I Desire feelings of ecstasy in my life, to wake up in the morning and
feel utterly fulfilled!!
I Desire many adopted Children, at least 3 perhaps more!
I Desire to feel needed, loved and cherished, accepted, respected and
adored, valued, like my opinion matters and like I am a genuine member
of my community both locally and world wide. Like I am part of a
global community that sincerely Desires to grow and expand, to be
accepting and inclusive, open and trusting, loving and welcoming!
I Desire to feel that there is a more equal distribution between
myself and my immediate family and my world wide family, that I am
giving 60 and their giving 40 or 55/45!