I'm glad, for All The Letters I've Written

Have you ever noticed how much people who think they are in charge, or who think they are in some higher realm than us (average person) don't really like being written to, don't like knowing that there are blogs that say what they think. They don't want contact, really, and just don't want to have to deal with any of 'it?' Yeah, me too.

And I just want to say that I am PROUD of myself for my letter to Yoko Ono, when I made the probable mistake of alluding to my non-perfect mental health status, especially when she has dedicated the last 30+ years of her life keeping her late husband's killer in a mental ward. I guess I'm feelin' it when I didn't get a signed Yoko Ono photo. I'm not sure she even 'does' that.

And I AM proud of the letter I sent to Ozzy Osbourne, Prince of Darkness, telling him that, when he dies, I won't be thinking of him as the guy that bit the head off a bat, oh no, I will think of him as a champion (and incredibly sneaky) for keeping his bipolar such a secret and living through all of it. I suggested a remake of 'We are the Champions' which should be a Bipolar Anthem. My admitted mistake, I said if I was wrong about him being bipolar, he could throw my letter away. And I didn't ASK for a picture, but I think if he doesn't have mean-spirited/Satanic youth answering his mail, I might just have a chance on my next letter.

I am PROUD that I truly wasted my time writing ANYthing to some alpaca farm in Cana-Di-Ah and asked them questions about their Kommodore (sheep dog w/ dread locks) and their thoughts on why that kind of dog. Apparently they don't have thoughts. I do. Their blog was very incomplete and shared same info back and forth and they had an email address posted, which was very curious - because they either don't read, don't English, don't write or don't write English. Tak your pick, because they were Incommuncado, and I'm not talking Catholic sacrament.

No response-vous on my letter to Judith Warner, NYT's columnist. Welcomed to comment, I guess I could print what I wrote to her, perhaps eventually. I thought my work sent to her was definitely some of my most lucid, probably bottom-kissing stuff ever, and we all know how very unused to producing/sending that sort of thing, am I.

I don't know how it came to me actually, but I was quite sincere at the time and did feel that my effort was worth it, especially if she could take similar joy in finding that someone not only wrote on the same topic, without being forced to, but came to the same, very altruistic/loving conclusions.

Would it be so bad for a person of her 'caliber' to 'lower' herself to say 'Hi, hello good for YOOOOOOOOUUUU' (I feel a 'Will & Grace' moment coming and I am not gay. Must be a New York thing.)? So think 'Jack' from the show and say, "YeAY, I'm a LITtle bitter." As far as printing that letter online, I'm waiting, hovering and then I might print it. But I'll give it some weird name so high school and college kids can't easily google it for their bottom-kissing activities.

Welcome to the Jungle!

I really do have a cat and a dog. They know they are not simply 'cat,' 'dog' but Siamese and Pug. It's not that I'm some kind of elitest, it just happens to be true. Okay, we treat them like furkids but I couldn't imagine it any other way!

I have not published pics of them, at least not for a long time, and so maybe you should just enjoy that I have broken down and now present them here!

Okay, Okay - These are not mine! But they ARE Alpacas and I really, really want some. They are sweet and mostly silent, like cats. Within 5 minutes of this picture they were swarming around Husband, nose to nose and really had him surrounded. It always happens. I work so hard to get a pet in our family, and they end up liking him the most! Sheesh.

Reese kitty, Siamese cat extraordinaire. If you are impressed, go online to the Siamese Cat Rescue and get yourself one! We had good experiences with them. He's so beautiful that I am sure he would do well in real competition. He is even neutered so well that it fooled a vet tech at my vet, at first. But neutered cats can only be entered in the Household Cat division which I'm sure he'd win, but he is so people shy, I think he'd hate it. He has red-eye in this pic, in reality he has gorgeous blue-blue eyes.

See more of his coloration. He's really perfect - black arms, tail, ears and face. Almond/white body with perfect color stratiations. Oh and did I mention Mr. Man's fangs? You can't see them, but they are there. He has killed two mice and we have boasted and bragged about him everytime. We really are proud parents.

Emma dog! This is my Pug baby. That 'look' is her begging for a grape. I had video and it was so cute because she spits out the grape because that's how she plays with it! I love her, I love her! There's a curly tail hiding in back too. Both animals are too smart for their own booties!:)

Paddy-Pug! She is cute as a dickens! This my Mom's Pug standing here with curled up tail. Those are water provisions for Mom's long journeys in the RV and yes, Paddy is there for everything! That funny round toilet-looking thing is Paddy's water dish - it will not fall over! Great for little travelers.

Oh yes, we end this with Paddy. She is like Emma but different, she looks more like your average Pug, basically. I love this pic because this is a typical insolent face she makes, it's the stubborn look. I did photoshop this pic. She had typical blue-eye, a common picture condition for young Pugs because the back of the retina is still so wide (my vet explained, 'cause Emma had the same problem). These are our sweet babies, enjoy.

Whatever Keeps You on The Planet

So, re-vamped the immediate warning sign on the blog a moment ago. Found myself on another person's blog (they were posting one of the my articles urls) and this other person actually warned potential clickers of my article [on someone else's site, as they clicked to come to my site] that there 'may be profanity.' Hunh. I tend to think this makes people die to come here, with a warning like that. Somehow it makes me look like a cussing fool. No, I am an honest fool. I let the inner angst out the way it wants to come out. I can cus like a sailor, a criminal or a sweetheart that spent way too much time in a state mental hospital. It took a looooooong time for me not to say f_ck every other word after the 6 month stay and family & friends were shocked every time I could figure out how to curtail it's use, in fact. So, I have skills, and sometimes they get used.

I just put the disclaimer up because I think honesty's the best policy and while I put it all over that I'm bipolar, there's still fools that don't understand how mad we can get. Righteously mad. But still, we are the sweetest of people.

So, on to other, perhaps similar subjects. I was feeling sui c i dal this evening, after being subjected to your average everyday women, the judgements of me firmly in her eyes and attitude, and the upshot was 'Tart felt like a freak, despite being as nice as I could be. I will never fit in. Now, Husband calls this 'low-self esteem.' Can you imagine me telling him that that I obviously won't be selling X to the female masses, the actual reason for the trip into b_tch country in the first place which was looking into the possibility (foolishly), because they just make me feel horrible. He says, 'Oh, that is your low self-esteem.' (He believes I should 'buck up' and not care what anyone thinks. Um, we can't all be HIM!) I almost injured him but I thought better of it since he was driving us home. 'THAT is blaming it on ME!" I said, "And clearly you could see how the ladies were treating both of us, actually." Why, why is it always MY fault when I point out other people not acting right, 'people' (or are they really demo ns?) basically crushing my spirit?

When the wife of a long time friend of Husb.'s tells me that Cancer is worse than Bipolar because they can die of it, I don't know why I inexplicably held my tongue, even though that Beyotch needs a lashing more than anyone I know in the flesh. (I don't need to tell YOU, dear Reader, that death by horrible natural cause is STILL more socially acceptable than death by own hand. How about the stigma of mental illness? Where are the walk a thons, ribbons, and CARE for mental f'n illness?) She had NEITHER illness? How did I ever let her get away with it? Oh, the mental floggings actually to myself, that occur to this day.

That was a case of, we've all known each other 15+ years, and Yoko (that would be moi) has been dragged to see these wretched people for years. You'll be quiet, won't you Yoko, for the sake of the friiiiieeeeeeeeennnnddddshhip? Hunh? They are wretched, time and time again doing & saying things that are unfathomable. In recent years, I have called them on one or two things. They have the nerve to say, "We're sorry your feelings are hurt," in nonsense emails to me, that take no responsibility. No, I'm looking for, "I'm sorry I did something that hurt your feelings." They word it like an f'n publicist. And if the wife weren't bad enough, she's essentially the naive, clueless one in the family. Her mother and sister are vipers, snakes that eat people up for breakfast. If the one is clueless, the family units are judging and conniving and near embodiments of evil. When her sister produced a child, I asked Husband if she had eaten it yet. He gave me the 'look,' I said, "Well, her kind usually does eat it's young."

Many stories involved with that one. I rue the day that I didn't kick the b_tch out of my car and make her walk to her sister's wedding (I'm speaking of viper sister, in my car, still bitter because our lovely hair crew told me I had beautiful lips. You'd think Viper would, and still does, pop a vein over that one!). Instead, I actually took ABUSE for the mere 45 excruciating minute ride that I was forced to bring her, and I wish that I HAD GIVEN HER A REASON to hate me, a reason for her incessant b_tching and hatefulness toward me for no god_amn reason at-all. You just wonder, really wonder what goes in those heads, the lack of brain chemicals perhaps, the practice they have gotten from being horrible their whole lives. People like that are a step above in the unbelievable chain, they really are worse than your average idiot judging-woman. Having been subjected to both kinds, I just don't have an explanation. I don't know why cruelty and judging feels so good to them.

I want my ranch. LOTs of acres. I want my animals. My pugs, other dogs, and alpacas. I'll take a stinky alpaca hug any day for the lies, the excuse that human beings represent. I'll go to the grocery store with my shades on and order most things online. Contact with people will be when I have what they want: information, buy an animal, a scarf, look around and say, "Gee, wish we could do this." Then they leave to carry on their insignifcant lives and CAN'T HURT ME.

I was going to come on here, after describing my su ic id al thoughts and tell you what snapped me out of it.

It was my usual checking and looking at MSN and, for once, clicking on videos. Normally, I'm all about reading the news/drivel, I don't like videos, any more than I like television news. But I clicked on the one about the Dad attacking his son's murderer in court, good but not satisfying enough. Love the concept, a whole movie w/ Kevin Bacon (ooh, free pub. yer welcome) is coming out about that.

No, the one I loved and broke my spell for me was the store robbery and how the robber (or clerk) almost bit one from the shotgun. Here's how it goes: robber demands money, clerk slowly gives him bills at a time, greedy f_k puts down gun and demands it faster, clerk grabs gun, (b4 getting to shoot a__hole, darn!) robber flees. Moments later (you know this guy's on meth) robber comes running back, over the counter and WANTS GUN BACK! Nope! Says clerk, struggle, Gun Goes Off! but damn it, no one injured. Robber flees, Good Sam writes down plate #, police track him down, and after THREE HOUR standoff (THAT really pissed me off) jerkoff is caught and toted away.

I thought, My God, a piece of cr_p like that causes so much trouble, ties up the 'valuable (that will be another post)' help of the public servant for 3 hours and has the nerve to not kill himself and save us the taxpayer money and waste on his sorry a__. And THAT was what made me feel better! Thank you, criminal, for making me realize that I am better than you. That I am occasionally, possibly helpful and that my life has worth. For I see that his does not. And if I can't be better the 'perfect women w/ children' that surround me, I am better than this f_ck. And that's why I'm calmer and not trying to figure out how to kill myself, right now.
:)
Another fellow mentally ill person I knew once said, "The mentally ill are nothing but a step up than a criminal, in the public eye." He was a smart individual who said this, who unfortunately wasted his time trying to change our County mental health system, to, of course, no avail. But not only does his smarts prove that mentally ill (and oh, believe me, he was) by no means, means 'mentally retarded.' (They are so hard-working in our area, but we mentally ill do give them such a bad rap).

So it proves true, no. I have no problem feeling above a criminal, and getting much needed respite from those suicid. thoughts. Sadly, the average woman, with all her judgements, are like punches to my person. Well, I guess it's the miracle of writing/blogging/my only therapy (die UT) that may someday uncover the reason and why that is. Because I refuse to believe that it's my 'low self esteem' and I'll kick anyone's ass who thinks so.

Who's 'silent?' and new things comin'

I got one of those 'thirty zillion things about you' emails, you know - friend fills it out about them, then you're supposed to fill out about you and send it back. I got a shock when one of the questions was 'Who amongst all your friends is the most silent?' and my friend said me.

I know I have this 'problem,' being silent or closing up, shutting down, or even not sharing. Most of the time when it gets pointed out to me, I am shocked some, mostly because I don't think of other people trying to figure me out or thinking of me. But when I get over those things, it doesn't really shock me that I'm perceived that way.

It's a defense mechanism. Darlings, its part of being bipolar.

I 'have to' shut down in an effort to protect me.

Perhaps its because I'm sensitive and it doesn't take much for me to get hurt, but I do, get hurt that is. So what does one do to protect from that? They shut down, don't share, close up and stay in some safe location and busy themselves with other things. Thankfully, there are other things for a person like that to busy themself with.

Oh I'm delightful, a wonderful person. But so many people are judgemental hags and hagamerers and it feels to me to be just not be worth it. In my mind that is their loss, but sure it hurts anyone to be alone endlessly.

Turns out that many bipolars have a problem with 'antisocial behavior.' Honestly, I don't think its going to far to say that it's just hard to be those intelligent creative types (perhaps I am only describing myself), but its certainly d*mn hard to live with this illness. Hard on the person, hard on anyone around them. You do need a support system, and that's something to hone and get, which thankfully I've got, but after that people can just go to hell.

I say all that because in the history of this blog, I don't think I've touched on that particular topic. And I think A) I'm not the only one, B) it's worth talking about because it's a real issue. We need to stop being embarassed or not talking about our issues because people die never knowing how alike and similarly smitten we are!

It's just the way we get sometimes, like sometimes we get elated as h*ll, we get depressed as h*ll, we bawl, we laugh ~ and sometimes all of this in a 20 minute period.

You can't live a life like that and not have some introspection or for that matter blind acceptance. To suffer so much, one cannot help but ask questions of why, why do I have this, why God do you hate me so much, when are you going to start helping me, make this STOP. And when you're feeling good, you recognize it so much, (dare I say more than a normie that wasn't crying a few mere minutes ago?) and say a Thank you prayer and then blindly hope it will stay for a while.

So if that sounds fantastic to you, as an outsider, why aren't you knocking the bp's door down every morning to have tea/coffee, or calling all the time, or wanting to be around them all the time. Perhaps they scare you, as they scare themselves. Perhaps nothing in the paragraph above sounded like Garden Club conversation or Game night invitee material. I certainly would question it, if it weren't my life.

So, the upshot is, removal of my person from activities A) keeps me from having to use my social skills which are pretty shot or never existed, granted, but B) most of all is a protection for you, dear outsider, DO YOU REALLY WANT TO SEE THIS? If so, you ARE a fantastic person. If not, don't feel bad, you're just like everyone else.

I am going to be starting some new things, I think. I am thinking of starting a blog of my accomplishments, things I've made, whether it be food, my crochet and other fiber arts and other things (I swear I have more accomplishments, somewhere!). Also I am considering doing some things with Cafepress.com here on the blog. Selectively selling other people's stuff and DRUMROLL...creating my own things for selling.

Also, I am delving into some 'new' arts for myself - relearning knitting, as it is crucial in making some of the things I want to do, and I'm thinking about polymer clay, potentially as something I maaaaybe could sell, if I show a knack. I already know how to crochet.

Also, I still have my burning dream to have a farm, a place of rolling pasture and space. I have been looking into what kinds of animals, etc. I could use to help me afford it all and I am again really excited about alpacas. The industry of caring for and turning precious alpaca fur into yarn and items pretty much fits into everything I love about animals, fiber arts, the whole shebang. Turns out that this is not as crazy or misguided of a dream as one might think, because within mere minutes of me are alpaca farms already living the life and I will be contacting and inquiring with them.

Maybe that one is a big dream. There's no reason not to dream, so I'm gonna.