BPD Checklist

This is a Kessler Psychological Distress scale. I’m going to type out the questions and answer them. I read over it this morning and I’m not doing so well, so maybe me putting my answers out there may show someone else that they are not alone. Or make someone who’s not in so much distress feel better about themselves.

But, before I get into the questions, I’d like to share that I was diagnosed with BPD at 16 years old. Normally that diagnosis isn’t made until a person is 18, but my BPD traits were so prevalent that I was an exception to that rule. Ok, so here I go with the questions:

1.) During the last 30 days, about how often did you feel tired out for no good reason? That answer has to be a number 5 (All of the time). I spend more time in my bed exhausted than I do out of it. Of course, we have to keep in mind that I’ve had a few concussions to deal with, and migraines, a TBI, and Bipolar Disorder type II. Not a fun combination.

2.) During the last 30 days, about how often did you feel nervous? I would have to say that one is a 3. It comes and goes.

3. During the last 30 days, about how often did you feel so nervous that nothing could calm you down? That one is a 2, because honestly shopping calms me down, although that brings in a whole new set of problems.

4.) During the last 30 days, how often did you feel hopeless? That one is a big ‘ole 5

5.) During the last 30 days, about how often did you feel restless or fidgety? That’s a 1, it hasn’t really been a problem for me.

6.) During the last thirty days, about how often did you feel so restless you could not sit still? Again, that’s a number 1, hasn’t really been a problem.

7.) During the last 30 days, about how often did you feel depressed? That’s a 5 but I’ve been depressed a lot more than 30 days…

8.) During the last 30 days, about how often did you feel that everything was an effort? Again that’s a 5 and it’s been way more than 30 days

9.) During the last 30 days, about how often did you feel so sad that nothing could cheer you up? A 5, shopping and mani/pedis aren’t even making me even a little happier not even for a second.

10.) During the last 30 days, about how often did you feel worthless? That’s a 5. I feel worthless and useless to my entire family.

So those are my answers to the questionnaire, anyone else that is feeling bad and reads this I hope they’ll realize they’re not the only ones. And anyone doing better feel free to leave a comment letting me know what works or has worked in the past.

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Depressed/Hopeless 2

So I wrote my first blog earlier, it’s been up all day and no one has even read it I don’t think. No likes, no comments, just nothing. I feel like that’s my life right now. A bunch of nothing. It’s getting harder and harder to get out of bed, I’m constantly fatigued, I sleep all day and fall asleep at night.

I’m putting on an act for everyone, acting as if I’m happy, but really all I feel inside is empty. And it’s not just the GoFundMe, I knew it was a long shot. I ruined 2 diamond paintings that I was doing for Allison Burnett and my Grandfather. Well Mr. Cat kind of mostly ruined Allison’s. I’ll get replacements made but right now I am working on a real big “San Francisco Giants” painting for my uncle.

Baseball season starts tomorrow!! I am so excited. Me and my uncle have tickets to two Yankee games but we still don’t know if we’ll be able to go yet. My grandpa and I are the Yankee fans in our family, everyone else are fans of the “Mess” otherwise known as the Mets.

I’m watching “Beethoven” the first one. There are 8 “Beethoven” movies, I can’t believe they made that many. And I mean the movies about the big St Bernard , not the musical composer.

Starting tomorrow I have big plans. Put all the junk in the garage and pack up my winter clothes, start walking again so I can lose the last 20 pounds. I hope I can stay motivated.

I’m just feeling lonelier and lonelier but I’m going around putting on this act like everything is fine, when it’s not. I just don’t know what’s wrong with me.


Depression/Hopeless 1

So my GoFundMe is holding strong at 0 dollars. I need 5000 to pay my uncle and grandfather back. At this point I’m kind of whatever about it. Times are tough, real tough, and there are people with GoFundMe’s for food for their family and whatnot.

I got an email today from someone at the GoFundMe site, saying they were concerned because I mention having suicidal thoughts. He gave me resources and asked if I was working with someone or whatever. I thought that was nice. And I do have a therapist. And a psychiatrist, neurologist, Botox doctor (for migraines), neuropsychiatrist, the list goes on and on.

Being completely honest, I still do have suicidal thoughts like all the time. There is no possible way I’ll be able to pay my uncle back in any short amount of time. Times are tough, people don’t have money to throw away money to a spoiled girl that really messed up and now owes her uncle and grandfather 5 grand.

But just because I have suicidal thoughts doesn’t mean I am going to hurt myself. That’s why Crisis let me go home the night my uncle was scared I was going to do it. I told the crisis guy “suicidal ideation does not mean I’m actually going to do it”

I’m just really depressed, especially right now, it’s very hard to get out of bed. I’m fatigued all day and have insomnia at night. I just wish I could do something. And times are really tough so I mean I understand why no one wants to donate, and why they can’t. It’s just depressing because all I can do is 50 dollars a month.

Baseball season starts tomorrow and I am excited about that. Go Yankees!! I’m going to add my GoFundMe on here once more, just in case. I hate myself for the position I put my uncle and grandfather in. I’m working on the whole self forgiveness thing but its not going to well.

Fundraiser by Shannon Catherine Marie : Help Shannon Repay Her Uncle and Grandfather (gofundme.com)



Today would have been my grandma would have turned 92, had she not died in 2002. I still miss her so much. It doesn’t seem fair that I lost her, I’m still angry that I lost her. She absolutely hated being photographed so basically I have the featured image, and some wedding photos.

Funny story about the wedding photos, they were taken by a professional photographer, so we can’t make copies. The day my grandfather found his wedding album I took it to CVS to try and make copies and they wouldn’t let me. I was so furious. I went home crying and my uncle asked what was wrong and I told him I couldn’t make copies and it wasn’t fair because I was the closest to her and it’s not my fault I was born at “the bottom of the food chain”. It goes my grandpa of course, then my mom, then my uncle, then my brother, and then me. So I’d be like 60 by the time the pictures got to me and I was so distraught. Ok maybe this story isn’t so funny, but seriously you have to give me credit for the “bottom of the food chain” comment.

So after my little emotional breakdown/outburst, I went down to my room. And my uncle went upstairs to talk to my grandfather about what happened. So the next day grandpa gave me 1/2 of his wedding pictures๐Ÿ’ž๐Ÿ’“๐Ÿ’—. Happy ending for me!!

My grandmother was constantly shopping, she would buy like 20 of one thing 30 of another, she did her Christmas shopping all year round. I remember one time it was me, my grandpa, cookie, and my brother, we had just been to a store where my grandma bought like 20 fly swatters. Then, in our hotel room, there was a fly and she wouldn’t let my brother use a fly swatter kill it. So he ended up chasing the fly around the room trying to kill it with a hotel bible. It was hilarious. Absolutely hilarious.

When I was young and my dad’s side of the family would take my brother places and leave me with me with my cookie and at that time my grandpa was always at work (He was VP of Guardian Life Insurance), I would sit at the dining room table practicing my handwriting or just reading. She would always say to me: “why don’t you go outside and play” and I’d always have the same answer “I’m having fun sitting with you, and besides I’m left handed and lefties have bad handwriting, I want good handwriting.” I was a nerd since I was 4 and taught myself how to read.

I miss her so much. I’m definitely close to my grandfather, I don’t know what I would do without him. I mean not only does he help me, he doesn’t realize how much taking care of him actually means to me. And I help him by taking care of him.

One day, years ago, back when grandpa was still able to come downstairs, we were in the laundry room and I found a big portrait of him and my grandma. I took it and hung it up in my room. Later that day I went up to his room and said “you realize you’re not getting that portrait back right?” And he laughed and said “yeah I kind of figured that when you hung it on your wall”.

This is the portrait we found in the laundry room that now hangs in my room.

I love her so much. And it’s supposed to get easier with time, but really, it hasn’t. I miss her more and more each day, and I’ll admit that I’m a little bitter that she passed but all the assholes on my dad’s side are fine. Granted my other Grandma and Grandpa passed but that was just this year and a couple years ago. It just seems so unfair. And my cousins, why do they get to keep living without a care in the world? They are BAD PEOPLE!! I fully admit that I am bitter and I would have rathered it be one of them instead of my Cookie. Then again I have no relationship with them so I don’t care what happens to them.

I have so many more stories, but I’ll save them for another day. The most important thing is I have so many good memories of her it helps keep her alive in my heart.

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Wednesday’s Thoughts

I actually started this entry yesterday, but then I got really tired and went back to sleep. And then when I woke up I had to rush to the nail salon, and then as soon as I was done my uncle and me headed out to Mass General in Boston so I could get the Botox done. It was not fun. He injected it all into my head and it hurt as he did it. I felt the little pricks as he poked all the different spots in my head. Then leaving, I had a bit of a headache, today I feel somewhat better, other than feeling extremely tired.

The Back of my eye is hurting a little bit, so I don’t expect to do much today. Maybe watch some tv or nap, read, I ruined a diamond painting because of my own stupidity. Anyone that diamond paints can probably understand what happens when you leave the sticky part exposed and get a paper stuck on it. The other one that got ruined was more my cats fault. I accidently left the sticky part exposed and my cat knocked a drink on it.

I stayed up late last night finishing the book “Her Dark Lies” by JT Ellison, it kept my attention and I could not put it down. Every book I’ve read by her has kept my attention and I have a hard time putting it down. She is a brilliant writer. I’m about to start “Dead To Her” by Sarah Pinborough.

The hardest thing I’m having to deal with right now are the neurological symptoms (the intention tremor, the fatigue, the stumbling, the tripping over my words as I try to talk, etc.). And the constant migraines which should get better with the Botox, although the dr. did say most patients usually start to really see results after the second treatment. Which will be in twelve weeks. Yay.

I’ve been thinking about my brother a lot the past few days, and I don’t think he’s been so much as willfully ignorant, as much as naively ignorant. Which would go back to the post where I mentioned that in the hospital while I was on an all liquid diet he fed me cheese fries. I feel like even back then he was in a little bit of denial about exactly what happened to me and how I was changed forever.

I just feel like he doesn’t understand my limitations, and is still in a state of denial, (not completely, but to a certain effect). I feel like he doesn’t understand my conditions and up to this point hasn’t even tried to understand the full effects, and what I deal with on a daily basis. Especially right now, I have so much stuff going on in my life that I need to focus on. Maybe one day we’ll be able to have a conversation and work things out, but not right now. I have too much going on in my life that I need to be focused on.

Last night I was thinking about my blog and what I would like to do with it. Should I make different pages? Such as my favorite quotes/affirmations, maybe one with song lyrics that really resonate with me. One thing is I would like to start a series on tv show characters that I really relate to and why I relate to them. Another thing I would like to do is write some book/movie reviews, and also I’ve been studying the Law of Attraction and Affirmations, I also have some kindle books with some journal prompts, which I think will be helpful in finding myself, as well as improving my writing.

I’m still relatively new at this, so I’m trying to come up with ideas that will really make my page stand out. If anyone has any suggestions I am all ears.

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Update 2

First of all, I haven’t written a post because I haven’t been feeling well, I’ve been stuck in bed with a killer migraine almost every day. This Tuesday I have an appointment at MassGeneral to get Botox which will hopefully end these constant migraines, and let me get back to my life. And let me get back to doing the exercises and playing board games with my Grandpa. I feel like I’ve been doing the bare minimum lately, and I should be doing more. However, I feed him on time, cook when I feel well enough, and make sure he takes his meds at the right time. I just feel I should be doing more. I know he’s been doing his exercises daily, the upstairs ones anyway, but I haven’t been pushing him and haven’t been making him do the downstairs exercises (which he can’t do by himself anyway). I miss the board games and the card games too. I’m convinced he somehow cheats because no one can possibly be as good at Old Maid as he is. LOL. Seriously.

I’m working with my therapist on self forgiveness, but it is extremely hard. Growing up I was a total bookworm and focused on school and gymnastics, even skipped a grade or two. I was always a perfectionist, and to this day I still am with certain things. I have like ten million pens (exaggeration yes, but not as much as you may think.)

Each drawer has a certain type of pen in all different colors but I like to keep them organized, in fact I’m a little neurotic about it. My uncle now has like 50 notebooks because I am so neurotic that I will just throw a notebook away if I rip out a page or two. I have a lot of issues to work on.

It’s difficult for me, the last 20 years since my car wreck have not been kind to me. I would get a job and work my ass off, and I did the job better than most employees because since my car accident I feel like I have something to prove. But I’d still hear the whispers behind my back, the condescending way managers and other employees alike would talk to me. The way they would make me so miserable and I knew they were discriminating against me but I couldn’t prove it, so I’d end up having a meltdown and quitting.

It hasn’t gotten easier with time, but my attitude is starting to change. I’m sure I’ve said this before, I tend to repeat myself a lot. One of the perks of multiple head traumas. And my dysarthria that makes me talk like I’m shouting even though to me I sound normal. For 20 years I have wished that I hadn’t survived my car wreck. Every time my mom would bring it up I would reiterate that I wish I had died. (More on that later). But I’ve finally gotten to a point where I’m not happy I survived, but I’m not not happy. Taking care of my grandpa gives me purpose, I don’t feel like I’m just “existing” anymore. But I also realize that I do need to find something else, aside from just taking care of my 92 year old grandfather. He’s not going to be around forever, and it kills me to think about not having him.

I love to write I always have. And I’m glad I started this blog to get things off my chest and practice my writing. I really want to be an author. And I like having people read my stuff.

So for those who haven’t read my entries where I discuss the big blow up I had because my cousin is a Karen. Ironically, her mother is also named Karen and they both fit that description to a T. I just completely lost it and told my brother to just think of me as dead. I then got into it with my mom hung up on her and totally blew up her text messages with not so nice language.

I do have mental illnesses I have to deal with on a daily basis, and when you throw in the stress I’m under (my court case, the fact that I keep getting concussion after concussion, the fact that I’m showing signs of Post-Concussion Syndrome, and I have to see a neurologist and find out exactly how much head trauma/concussions I have to get before I have to start worrying about the possibility of CTE). You get the idea. That’s another thing, all of a sudden I’m having these intense reactions and having violent thoughts that I don’t like. And it honestly scares me. My mom has been there for me and supported me through so much, yet every time I get mad I forget all of that and make it seem as though she hasn’t supported me, or is choosing my brother over me.

My father’s half of the family has never been kind to me. They never liked me since the day I was born. The exception would be Barbara, as two faced as she was, and all the needless drama, I do believe in her own way she did love me in her own way. I forgive her for everything that ever happened and am choosing to focus on my good memories of her.

All these years I would get so mad at my mom for bringing up my car wreck and every time she did I would make it clear that I wish I hadn’t survived. I’ve never tried to see things from her point of view, but it has to be all she thinks about, that she very nearly lost her daughter. But my uncle mentioned last night that that is probably something she thinks about all the time. I went to bed thinking about that. It’s hard to see things from different perspectives. I’ve just always looked at it from my perspective, and the last 20 years have brought nothing but misery, life has not been kind to me. But I’m here, and I’m trying. I’m trying to get better, I’m trying to find a purpose, besides just taking care of grandpa and my cats. I love my cats. I love how it is now more than when I was dating the last couple of losers I dated. I like being by myself, I have a 50 pound weighted blanket I sleep under, and all 4 cats know when its bedtime and they all cuddle by me. I’m fulfilled by myself (well as much as I can be with the issues I’m working on). But I have absolutely no interest in browsing dating right now. I’m happy being able to get stuff for myself, do my hobbies, write, quarantine has been difficult but because I can’t go out and see my friends when I want to. Not because I want to date or anything like that. I hate how society acts and teaches us that if you don’t have a partner your life must not be complete. That’s complete horseshit.

Anyway back on topic, last night me and my mom tried to make up (it didn’t go so well). So we tried again this morning. And I realize that there are some things I can really be better at. And I understand her perspective a little more and I think she gets mine. I think we can get back to being close again. I also realized that I tend to project my feelings about Robbie onto her, and when she doesn’t automatically choose me I project my jealousy and feelings of inferiority about my brother onto her. The entire half of the family that doesn’t like me and that probably wishes I had died in the wreck, has always loved him. Even though I was smarter, more driven, they would take my brother places and leave me with my grandmother. Which, really, I’m kind of grateful because it helped me build a bond with my “cookie”. I used to sit at the dining room table with her and practice my handwriting. And she would always say “don’t you want to go outside to play?” I’d be like “nope need to practice because left handed people usually have messy handwriting.” I have the best memories of my mom’s mom. I was her favorite, everyone knew it. But she NEVER treated my brother like he wasn’t worth anything. She treated us the same, spoiled us the same. There was never a competition for her attention, she had plenty of attention, and love to give to both of us. Even though I was her favorite. ๐Ÿ˜

Before I end this post, I want to describe what goes on with me daily:

I have a million thoughts running through my head at any one time, my intention tremor has come back since the last concussion, I constantly forget what I am saying or doing, I repeat myself constantly and if I’m put on the spot it’s like I freeze and can’t remember my point. I’m stumbling over words, my depth perception is getting worse. I’m even getting my cats names mixed up, it’s a horrible feeling to feel like I’m losing it. These new feelings of rage are so much more intense than they’ve been in the past, it’s scary. I constantly have to nap, I have a migraine nearly every day, and every day I deal with suicidal ideation. I feel like I live in a hell that no one can fully understand.

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I Feel Like Such A Failure

Yesterday, my uncle wrote me a check to cover all the Amazon expenses (because we both share prime and we use my account for buying tv shows and movies and stuff). He wrote up a bill as well so I can start working on paying him back. I’ve felt absolutely horrible about the whole Amazon thing since November when I found out how much I spent.

I can’t really go into too much detail right now. But I messed up big time. I messed up so bad that my uncle had to call the police because he was afraid I was going to hurt myself. I was definitely considering it. Sometimes I feel like no matter how hard I try I just keep messing up. It’s so hard. Between my TBI and my mental health issues it is just so hard not to be impulsive and do stupid things that seem like no big deal at the time. But I’m hurting the two people that mean the most to me in the world. My grandfather is my world. When he tore his rotator cuff, there was no question about it. I was going to stay home and take care of him. Make his meals, give him his pills on time, etc. He took me in when no one else in my family wanted me. I love him so much and to think that I hurt him kills me inside.

As for my uncle, I can always talk to him about what I’m going through, and he always has good advice, he’s helped me out financially more times than I can count. I hate that I put them through so much. My uncle wrote me out a bill and told me to start thinking of ways to pay him back. I figure I can do 50 dollars a month (I hope). So I owe him 3,400.00 and that’s just from yesterday. I feel horrible because it is going to take forever to pay him back.

This morning I woke up and went up to see my grandpa and I said to him I feel like such a horrible person, and he told me not to feel that way and that they would work everything out. And he reminded me how much he loves me and how much I do for him. It’s still hard though, I feel so bad about everything.

My room is a disaster area and I’m tired of it. I’m tired of living like a hoarding slob. I think it stems from when I was growing up we didn’t have much, and when I would spend time with my grandma and grandpa they would get me whatever I wanted. And the fact that in 2003 the first time I moved up here I really didn’t have anything. Just some clothes. Grandpa bought me a lot of stuff and I became completely spoiled. I’m trying to get out of that mentality and become mature. It has NOT been easy. But I am determined to become a better, more mature person.

It won’t be easy, but I believe in myself. I’m a fighter and a survivor and I can do whatever I put my mind to.


Arraignment Day

So I was up at 6:30am ready to call the courthouse right at 8am for my intake. My grandpa treated us both to Dunkin before I called in, but I was back in plenty of time. I have to say that I like doing the court by phone thing, I was able to work on my diamond painting as she asked me questions. So then I was sent a text message with instructions on what to do at 10 am for the actual arraignment.

At 10 am I called in and really didn’t have to say anything, got my next court date and got assigned a lawyer.

I have spent so much time worrying about this day so scared of what would happen, when really it was so simple and easy. I remember the “vulnerable community officer” said she was going to reach out to her courthouse contacts to try and make the day easier for me. I was really scared even last night. I was so anxious, and it didn’t help that Buttercup stood at the top of my stairs for like 20 minutes meowing really loudly hoping someone would open the door. And when no one did he jumped up on my bed and cuddled with the other cats.

Three of them can accept that when it’s time for bed they have to go down to the basement (my room). In fact they are such good cats that all I have to say is “bedtime” and point towards my door. They all trot down with no problem. Occasionally, Mr. Cat will go down to the living room and just collapse and make me carry him downstairs. Buttercup used to be the first one down. Now he’s going through his rebellious phase.

Well, I’ve been sitting at my desk since like 7 am basically and I don’t have a normal desk chair, I have a cheap regular chair. And I’m extremely tired so I am going to take a nap. Maybe I’ll write another blog later, or maybe I’ll write one tomorrow.

The important thing is: I WILL BE BACK!

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The Last Few Days

I haven’t written an entry in the last few days because I haven’t been feeling well. I’ve had a migraine that just wouldn’t go away.

So, I’ve been spending a lot of time in bed watching “The Big Bang Theory”, and the “Punky Brewster” revival on Peacock. And I have to say I really hope there is a second season. I love that Freddie Prinze Jr. is acting again. And Soleil Moon Frye is awesome. I just really loved it. Especially with her two adopted sons of color. I just think the first season was awesome.

As I’ve mentioned before I have a shopping problem. And I never watched TBBT until for some random purchase on Amazon had seasons 1-10 on blu ray. So I impulsively bought it, and when I started watching it, I was absolutely hooked. Then when the series ended I bought the limited edition of all 12 seasons. I love the show so I don’t consider it a bad purchase, and since my amazon account is still locked I’ve been watching it on HBO Max, which fun fact, if you subscribe to HBO on cable, you get HBO max for free.

When I have a migraine I usually turn off all my lights and turn my tv down low and put it to ‘audio only’ feature and snuggle up in bed with my cats.

My one cat, Butter, is going through his rebellious phase. I bought him as a kitten from the animal shelter and he was always my best behaved cat. He didn’t start meowing until like 6 months ago (he’s six now). When I first got him after like 2 months I still hadn’t heard him meow so I had called the vet to ask her opinion. She asked if he was able to purr, which he did all the time, so she assured me he’s just a quiet guy. Until 6 months ago. Then he started making up for lost time.

My grandfather had a cat named ‘Mabel’ and she was such a sweetheart. When I first adopted my twin kitties (Peter Parker and Tony Stark), Peter used to chase her around and at first she would smack him around but then eventually they started running off together. It was so adorable. We always joked around and said they were a married couple. Unfortunately we lost Mabel to cancer last year (she was 16), Peter will be 6 in July.

My cats were never allowed upstairs because they had claws, Peter just didn’t like that rule and would run up every time I opened the door. So we let him up but if his claws came out he went back downstairs. He learned pretty quick.

After Mabel passed I asked my grandpa if he would like my cats to come up during the day and he was all like “no, absolutely not. I don’t want to get attached to another cat. Well me and my uncle talked about it and we did it gradually. Now we leave my door open during the day, Butter has really bonded with Grandpa.

And when it’s time for bed 3 of them just go downstairs no problem, Butter, on the other hand is going through his rebellious period and will go under grandpa’s bed, or hide in the dark in grandpa’s room. Eventually he comes down though. Usually after 1/2 hour or more depending on his attitude that night. Sometimes he’ll stand by my door and when we go to open it he’ll run right back up to grandpa’s room. Grandpa calls him ‘buttercup’ and I do too. When he was born he had a sister that they named ‘Peanut’ get it, Peanut Butter. But they adopted them out separately so a black and white cat named ‘Butter’ doesn’t really make sense. I like Buttercup.

And now I am going to take my daily nap. Ever since this last concussion I’ve had to take a daily nap. I’ve also had other issues, but I’ll go into those later. I’m getting super tired.


I Took Yesterday Off To Contemplate My Extreme Reaction To What Happened Over The Weekend

My reaction was extreme. However it was 20+ years in the making. The Gerdts’ have NEVER treated me even close to how they treated my brother. Even before my car accident. After my car accident they decided I wasn’t even worth talking to. I don’t regret sending the links, it gave me the opportunity to really see how there are no redemptive qualities with anyone on that side of the family.

As for my brother, he has purposefully and willfully stayed ignorant about my head injury and my other medical conditions. He doesn’t care about me, everyone laughs about how when I was in the hospital for my car accident on an all liquid diet, he fed me cheese fries. I wonder if they would still be laughing had I choked on them.

No one has ever stood up for me on the Gerdts’ side of the family. Absolutely no one. One would think that my brother, my own flesh and blood, whom I was close with for a real long time, would stand up for his sister. One would think my mom would understand how I feel instead of defending him, talking about how much stress he is under. What about the stress I am under? Will anyone ever care about me at least as much as they care about my brother?

I was always smarter than him, I still am, if I’m honest. I have a bigger vocabulary, I skipped a grade or two in elementary school, I always made straight A’s without even trying, whereas he’d have to work his ass off to get a C. The funny thing is though, that even though I was never good enough, I never held it against him. I was never jealous, in fact, when my brother became too much to handle, she sent him to NY to live with my father, she kept me around and fought for me, kept sending me to residential treatment, and helped me to get on the straight and narrow again, and for that I will always appreciate her. I’m not sure what will happen with the two of us, but I will always be proud of her for getting sober and always thankful for the help she made me receive as a teenager.

After my accident, I kind of had to start life over, and it was my grandpa who raised me. He was more of a father to me than my own father, and I can’t say he did a better job, but he made me feel more loved, he never made me feel as though I wasn’t good enough. He has never told me I should get my own apartment. This is the first place that ever felt like home. And actually, I did live on my own twice. The first time I moved back to NY was with my brother and his friends. I’m pretty sure he only wanted me there because grandpa would make sure we had enough money, we had a falling out and I had to sleep with my cat in my car! Then him and his friends destroyed my 36″ inch tv (which was an expensive tv, and it was considered a big screen back then. When I went to get my stuff they pretended like they didn’t have anything to put my stuff in and I had to put whatever I could fit in a garbage bag with garbage in it. That’s who he is. I should have seen it back then and written him off and never looked back.

The second time I moved out on my own, I had a roommate named Anthony, who was more of a brother and treated me like his sister while I lived there. We still keep in touch on Facebook. He had a cat named Mr. Jingles, and I had a cat named Spitfire (the only female cat I will ever own). We lived in the Bronx and Mr. Jingles took to me right away, of course he loved Anthony just as much, but he was really sweet to me as well. When we both decided to move, he couldn’t bring Jingles with him, so I offered to take him until he could have him again. I know that sounds dumb, but I know how it is to have to live somewhere without your cat and miss your cat like crazy. I had every intention of giving him back if Anthony wanted him. But then I got so attached. And he was getting the care he needed, vet visits and regular shots and stuff. I’m not saying Anthony wouldn’t do that, or didn’t do that, I’m just saying I got super attached and ended up asking Anthony if I could keep him. He said yes. And I am so grateful. Had he said no, I would have given Mr. Jingles back, it would have destroyed me but I would have given him back. Tangent, sorry.

Since then, the thought of moving out is not even an option for me. I want to fix up our house and stay here with my uncle, whom I have always been close to, and has really helped me on and off for pretty much my whole life. When I was in residential treatment we would write letters to each other, we always had a close bond, and now it’s even more. He helps me out, both emotionally and he’s helping me get straightened out financially to become more financially independent. We talked through a plan and worked it out, because when I got the summons I completely relapsed on the shopping front.

Funny, it’s the 3rd, yet I haven’t gone to any websites or have any plans to go to Walmart, Target, anywhere. I have an Amazon cart which I am paying for in Amazon Gift cards, on my uncles account because mine is sill locked. But for the first time, I’m paying. And I’m not trying to get anything else, a lot of it is stuff I need. I’m kind of proud of myself.

I’m a little worried because it is hard to concentrate and I love to read. Next month I see my old neurologist to discuss the two major head traumas and 5 concussions, at least 5. To see if I have Post Concussion Syndrome, I kind of think I do, I looked at the symptoms and I meet more than the 3 required. Of course I also have medical conditions so some of the symptoms overlap. However, since the last concussion, I’ve been having a very hard time concentrating on reading (and I am a voracious reader), I require a nap each day. It’s not fun.

Well, that’s all for right now. I hope everyone that reads this enjoys it!

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I have now blocked my bro, mother, and sister in law (who is completely innocent except for the fact she’s married to my brother)

But first, I may seemed obsessed with Katie Fucking Gerdts, but that’s a Borderline Personality Disorder thing, Give it a few days chances are I’ll find something else in my life that’s shitty. But to really give you a picture of her dad and her dumbass husband . Think Trump and Ivanka. You know it’s creepy, you know something is not quite right, you’re pretty sure they’ve had consensual sex, but you can’t ever be 100% sure. And her husband is totally a third wheel. And most likely oblivious to it all, or maybe not. Either way if they start having kids I suggest a DNA test.

I worked so hard on this diamond painting for my brother and his wife’s baby shower. I also got some really cute onesies and some books. Especially a children’s edition of “The Wizard Of Oz” which is the book that I used to teach myself how to read when I was like 4. I really put a lot of heart and effort into the package, and now I guess it will just have to be thrown away, or donated.

I really do like my sister-in-law, I don’t feel like the feeling is mutual. Actually, the more I’m thinking about everything I don’t even think my brother likes me. In the entry How I Got A Traumatic Brain Injury That Still Affects Me To Thisย Day I mentioned how I was basically comatose on a liquid diet and he fed me cheese fries, I still believe he was in denial, but everyone laughs like it is so funny, no one ever thinks about what if his denial and cheese fries had made me choke?

He doesn’t care about me, he only stays in my life in case his REAL family needs him to yell at me. And it’s hilarious how they’ll all bring up my limitations and head injury whenever it pisses me off, but when I actually do something head injury related (I also apologized btw), no one cares. Everyone takes his side, he’s the golden boy, I’m the nuisance.

So I’m getting rid of toxic people. My brother’s wife isn’t toxic, in fact she’s the only one of his girlfriend’s I’ve ever liked. But I never got the feeling she likes me at all. She has her own life and she teaches and everything and I’m proud to have a sister-in-law that seems like such a great person. But my brother is. He made his choice, and now he has to live with it. I’m actually pissed because I should have kicked him out of my life in 2005, when I was living with him and we had a falling out and he just kicked me out, he never did apologize for anything he has ever done wrong to me, I’m suppose to apologize but he gets all the free passes ever.

As for my mom, I don’t know, I am majorly torn. On one hand she has always been there for me, but on the other hand she always takes my brother’s side, no matter what. She’s been supportive of me, but she constantly brings up my head injury whenever she decides to piss me off, it’s like she has no consideration for my feelings at all when it comes to that. Until I do something that I normally wouldn’t do, then it’s like I don’t have anything wrong with me at all.

My grandpa and my uncle and my cats, are my world. I don’t know what will happen with my mom and me but I know I’m done with Robbie.

Don’t forget to like, comment, subscriber, follow, and share!! If anyone can relate to anything I’ve written please don’t hesitate to leave a comment! I love to interact with you guys! Any advice any questions, anything, I will respond as quick as I can. XOXOXO



Ok, so for the new readers, I wrote a blog about the toxicity of my dad’s side of the family. But I did them a whole lot nicer than they’ve ever been to me. Then I sent links to all that I could find on social media to that post. Obviously it was impulsive a poor judgment on my part, I just feel if I write about someone on my blog they deserve to at least it, and I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a part of me that thought maybe my cousins would reach out. But never in a thousand years did I think they would run to my brother accusing me of “blowing up” their messages on Instagram. One message does not constitute blowing up.

Let me put into context exactly who this girl is. Apparently, she’s married now, to either her father or the guy she brought to my brother’s wedding. That was mean, but seriously there is like some weird incestuous thing going on with her dad right in front of her boyfriend. It was creepy, and weird. Since I want nothing to do with her parents (esp. her dad), I guess in hindsight that was a poor decision. But she ran to my brother and made him choose, them or me. He chose them and I don’t know why I’m surprised. He always has, I guess. Well, he was always able to stay neutral in the middle, and protective of me. Now it’s her he’s protecting. Fine. I don’t need that toxicity in my life and I’ll just return everything I bought for his son.

And now my mom is piling on. I’m so tired of being told and asked and everybody implying I’m stupid and I should no better. Ok got it it was a poor decision thanks to everyone who’s piling on.

Honestly, if my brother is going through so much why can’t he just tell her to ignore me or give her my number so she can have it out with me? Or find me on Instagram of Facebook? This was a direct I don’t want to call it a plan because I doubt she’s that smart, although from what my brother said last time I saw him she does have a pretty impressive resume. I mean, she’s obviously smart and she obviously knows they’re are other ways to deal with me contacting her, blocking is always a wonderful example. She has no disability, and everybody apparently loves her (especially her dad), so the question remains, why did she have to run to my brother?

Regardless, does she not know I was in a car accident and suffered brain damage? Does she not know a few years ago I fell down my stairs and landed on my head? Does she not know I’m now up to at least 5 concussions and have to see a neurologist to determine if I have Post-Concussion Syndrome? She probably doesn’t; but he does. And he chose to handle this by harping and texting me about common sense, and saying my conditions are no excuse for impulsivity, poor judgment, and I’m so upset my vocabulary is at a standstill. So I can only think of two words right now.

Now my brain injury also exacerbated my mental illnesses, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, and impulse control disorder, etc.

My conditions are NOT excuses, but they ARE facts, and they ARE explanations. I made a poor judgment, I made a mistake, ok. Fine. I accept that. I’m sorry. My bad. What else do they want from me. Honestly, sometimes I feel like my brother wants me to kill myself or something. It’s just a feeling I get every time he has to come between me and the Gerdts’. It would have been easier if I had died in my car wreck. Today as he was sending me text after text and my hands were shaking, tears were falling down my face, my heart started racing despite the beta blocker I take, the migraine started, all I could do is look at the box where I store my pills. I even started a text telling him he was making me want to kill myself. But I never sent it and it’s not true. Nobody can MAKE you want to hurt yourself unless you give them the power. So I blocked him and his wife instead. I blocked their numbers, unfriended them on Facebook, Instagram, etc. He can’t make me want to hurt myself and neither can my mom or anybody else unless I give them the power to.

Which is why I hung up on my mother, she wants to defend him, and keep asking the same questions so I get more and more upset. As soon as I start looking at those bottles I hung up the phone.

You know what I really find funny though, is he’s all like “so much is happening I can’t even tell you”, then my mom piles on with “you know he just lost someone blah blah blah”. Obviously, what I’m going through doesn’t matter to anyone. He never asks, he never calls my grandpa, he is a shit grandson, he has one grandparent left and he ignores him. He doesn’t ever care what I’m going through. I only talk to him when I message him. Maybe he made his decision a long time ago and I just didn’t want to see it.

He’s everyone’s favorite and it’s always been that way and I am so sick of it. I don’t want him in my life, at least right now, but I really doubt I will change my mind. I’m trying to get rid of toxicity in my life.

As for my mom, I just need a couple days to calm down and move on. Maybe after I speak with my therapist on Wednesday. I can’t really fault her, I texted her. Another poor decision. Had I just left it alone we would still be on good terms. Oh well.

That’s all for now. Anyone that reads this thank you for listening to me vent, if anyone else deals with family drama feel free to leave a comment. Actually, feel free to leave a comment about anything. I love to interact with my readers!!

Don’t forget to like, subscribe, follow, comment, share…. xoxoxo

P.S. I chose the photo of Mr. Cat for this entry because I remember that day and he was pretty sad. And he looks sad.



I wrote a short blog entry saying I was not ok. And I wanted to give my readers (what few I have), an update on my condition.

I Am Notย Ok

So I wanted to give an update on how I am doing and feeling. I’ll probably post two entries today because I have a LOT going on in my head right now.

Anyway, back to how I am doing. I read an article in my local paper about how the Chief of police has assigned an officer to be a “community officer” for vulnerable groups. Now, since I’m in a bit of legal trouble (I can’t go into detail), but I was a wreck I went a week without eating, I was sleeping all day. I was a mess. So after a few hours of debating on whether I should call or not, I called. And the lady got back to me right away, and she met with my the next day and she was able to really help me feel better, and she knows what I am facing. But she gave me some scenarios of what might happen, all of which are not bad. And I am feeling a lot better about things in general,

And, my primary doctor came through!! A very nice lady called and offered me a program that helps with transportation, social work, even dental work!!! I will hopefully be able to get my teeth fixed without having to use grandpa’s money!!

I am feeling super positive today!!

I’m going to put a donate button up if anyone would care to donate. I have 4 cats and they are all overdue for their exams and their shots, so anyone who would like to donate I would be extremely grateful!!!

That’s all for now, I may write another post a little later, or I might not. I want quality over quantity. I don’t want to just write posts just to write them. I want each one to be worth it.

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My TBI- Part 2

Yesterday, I wrote a blog post about how I got my TBI and how I was raped afterwards, and I also said I detach whenever I speak about it as a coping skill, because he gets no more power over me. The things he said, and the things he did, screw him and his mom, because she did a shit job in raising him. (Breaking into windows to have sex with sleeping woman!?). Some of this story will be about he got caught and how stupid he was.

Here’s the link from yesterday:

How I Got A Traumatic Brain Injury That Still Affects Me To This Day

For a long time after I left the hospital, I had a lot of difficulty articulating my thoughts and feelings which is why it went on so long. My mom had a feeling something was going on at night which is why she locked the window each night. And I didn’t want him to be able to get in, so I locked the window, not knowing she had already done so. Every time it happened I remembered thinking to myself “How did he get in? I locked the window.’ Months later, when I was talking to a special police lady to see if I was even able to consent to sex, I realized what had been happening, and for a long time I blamed myself. But come on, I wasn’t even able to handle locking a damn window I certainly couldn’t consent. He was a fucking weirdo.

I had to start life all over again. I had to relearn how to talk, and relearn what words meant. Spoiler alert: rape is not one of the words they teach you in speech therapy. Had I been able to tell my mom it would have stopped immediately. Like I said, the TBI made me a little slow for a couple years, I had trouble articulating my thoughts and feelings, and I was so overmedicated it took A LOT to wake me up. (That psychiatrist was a bitch). And what’s real sad is that there are a lot of psychiatrists that do overmedicate their patients. Which is one of the many reasons people don’t like to take their meds.

Anyway, our lease was coming up and all we were having a family meeting about whether to stay in the complex or move. All I could get out was that we had to move we had to move. I was insistent. “We have to move! We have to move! I don’t want to stay here”.

It was a month or two after we moved to a new complex that I felt safe enough to tell my mom. I did it in the psychiatrist’s office because I was afraid mom wouldn’t believe me, or she’d get mad at me, I had a lot of fears that were all unfounded. I don’t know why I thought my mom would be unsupportive, probably because that’s how society works. We don’t ever believe women.

There really wasn’t much my mom could do except be there for me, it wasn’t like the cops would believe an outlandish story about how I didn’t wake up as he was coming into my room, or taking my clothes off, or even the beginning.

Until he found out where I moved to. He came to our new apartment and tried to open the window, except he got the wrong window! I was knocked out in my room and he was trying to get into my house. Moron. So my uncle went outside and he’s just standing there like a moron, and my uncle says to him “***** you can’t do stuff like this”. And he turned to my uncle and said “Yeah, I know. I should probably go huh, the cops are coming aren’t they?” My uncle followed him to his car and got the make and model of his car.

The cops arrived and my mom told them everything. Including what had happened at our old complex. The were unsurprisingly a little skeptical, but then my mom showed them my room and said “Wake her up.” Needless to say they tried everything from yelling to dropping stuff on the bed. I wouldn’t budge. So my uncle gave them the make and model of the car and his last name. The cops were like “Hmmm, different car than he was in a few hours ago. We know him very well, we’ll let you know when he’s in custody.” Turns out he was at his mom’s house and they got him 15 minutes later.

So he got charged, (my mom didn’t want to pursue the rape charges in the condition I was in; she was worried what a trial might do to me emotionally), but he was still charged with something and I never saw him again.

Some months later I had a couple girls contact me and told me he did the same thing to them. So much for taking my uncle’s advice huh?


How I Got A Traumatic Brain Injury That Still Affects Me To This Day

I was a pretty bad teenager until I was 16, but that’s for another day. The important part was in 2000 I got my GED and got a full time job at Sears. I loved my job, my mom and I were getting along great. Except for when she found out I was sleeping with a 28 year old ex con. She wasn’t happy about that, but she knew how manipulative I could be and she knew very well I lied to him about my age. (I had a habit of doing that. I was 18 for like 5 years). Again, a story for another day. I had a friend named Chris and another one named Mike (we all knew each other from residential treatment). Chris and I were both out, as well as my best friend at the time, Erin. Mike was still in the treatment center but they gave him special passes to come to my birthday party, or sometimes just to hang out.

It’s one thing to mention I have a TBI in passing, its quite another to tell the story of how it happened, and how it affected me and still does to this day. There are certain parts that when I talk about them I dissociate. For instance, when I talk about how I was repeatedly raped after I came home from the hospital. I don’t think you can ever fully get over something like that, but I guess as a coping skill I pretend as though it happened to someone else and completely disassociate. I refuse to give him that power to make me cry or feel violated anymore. He’s a bastard and I heard he got what he deserved. But that’s it. He gets no more power over me or my emotions.

I started this blog to write about my experiences and how I view the world through my many disabilities, but something has been holding me back from writing this entry. I guess the fear of being judged, the fear of being looked at differently, even the fear that no one will care to read this….

So here I go. Here’s my story about my car wreck and what it did to me.

My birthday is on October 10, the only year I ever had a birthday party, and haven’t had one since. Then on October 18, 2000, Chris, Mike, and me were all hanging out when I wanted to go to a guy’s house I knew. So we got in the car, Chris was driving, Mike was in the front passenger seat, and I was sitting behind Chris. We all put on our seat belts which saved our lives. And I’d be lying if I said I was grateful we did. I’ve been living in a sort of hell ever since.

I don’t remember much of the ride really, all I remember is saying “we’re almost there”, I don’t even know if I really said that, I really can’t say definitively what happened. But I know we passed an intersection, a bad intersection where there were 8 or 9 accidents that year alone and we were the only ones that survived. I believe a cop was even killed there. So yeah it was a really bad intersection. I don’t even remember the name, all I know is it was by a school where that Bork guy that was nominated for the supreme court by Reagan but the democrats blocked him, taught. He then went and spent the rest of his days indoctrinating kids in Naples, FL. I’m just saying if you’re not good enough for a court position, you probably shouldn’t be teaching kids.

Anyway, I don’t really remember anything but I’ve heard plenty of stories over the years. Apparently, Chris ran a stop sign and the car we were in got run over by a dump truck. 8 days after my birthday (I abhor the month of October) because two years after my wreck on the 26, my grandmother (whom I called cookie died) . So when we got run over, the right side of my brain smacked into my skull. I’m left- handed so the right side of my brain controls things like talking, writing, walking, etc.

I had no id on me, but I was wearing a nameplate necklace that said “Shannon” and I had a pager, and my mom had paged me pretty close to the time of the accident. Apparently I was in and out of consciousness and the paramedics asked me what my name was and I answered “Joan”. Not sure why, maybe I was just being my sarcastic self, or maybe I thought I was in trouble. Who knows.

I flew by helicopter to the hospital, and the doctors and nurses weren’t sure if I’d make it through the night. So Florida people being Floridian idiots called the last number who paged me (my mom) and said something to the effect of “we have a 15 year old girl here, (I was 17, but I always looked young for my age) we’re not sure if she’ll make it through the night. Do you have any idea who this girl is?”. That’s the voice mail my mom got when she got a break from the college she was going to.

It wasn’t like me to not answer pages from her quickly. Like I said, I had gone to a couple residential treatment programs and the second one really helped me work through my issues and got me on the right medication. I worked full time to help mom with the bills, it was completely out of character for me to ignore her pages.

I was on a ventilator for a day or two when the doctors wanted to take me off because I would have become dependent on it. I started cursing at the doctor and the doctor told my mom “don’t worry profanity seems to come back first”. To which my mom replied “I really can’t tell the difference”.

Of course she rushed to the hospital and called my brother, who had a hernia operation scheduled for the next day. He put that on hold and drove to Florida to see me. I don’t remember him being there. But I’ve heard the stories about how I was on an all liquid diet and yet he fed me cheese fries, and got me to read his cup that said circle k, he was in a little bit of denial.

Others came to see me, my bosses at work, my friend Erin, staff from the program Mike was in (because I was there twice). I was in and out of the coma but all I remember from the time was my grandmother and grandfather (whom I now live with) called me everyday. I had no idea who anyone else was.

When I came out of the coma for good, the first thing I said was “I have to get to work!” In my slurred speech. Then I looked around and had no idea where I was or what had happened. I didn’t understand why my speech was slow and slurring, why I wasn’t allowed to get out of bed, I had no idea what happened, it had to be explained to me.

The doctor explained that since I’m left handed and the right side of my head smacked my skull I was the equivalent to a stroke victim. I couldn’t walk, write, I had trouble reading (which growing up in an abusive house with an alcoholic mother, reading and writing were my escapes), I talked slow and slurred, I was kind of slow for the next few years.

I do remember one time my first stepdad was supposed to come visit me and he never showed up. So when I got him on the phone he said “well the last time I was there you didn’t do anything so I didn’t think it was a big deal”. Trust me he’s a whole post of his own. But that was my life. I lost everyone, except my job, my mom, my uncle who had flew down to Florida to help my mom, and my grandpa who came down to relieve my uncle for a bit.

They wouldn’t let me out of the hospital until I could walk again. Bastards. I wanted a walker! Because when people look at me they can’t tell anything is wrong. It’s only when I start to speak with my dysarthria voice and how slow I talk people. people assume I’m slow, or assume I’m drunk.

When I fully came out of the coma I decided I wanted to go home by Thanksgiving. The nurses and doctors were all like “we don’t think that’s going to happen”. So I answered like I always do “challenge excepted”. Then I got to work. And worked my ass off to learn how to walk again, and I was able to read again, go to the bathroom by myself. Although, my mom did have to buy me a shower chair and get a special shower head put in, and I had no reflexes. But I proved the doctors and nurses wrong and made it home by Thanksgiving. Because that’s what I do, I’m a survivor and I prove people wrong.

When I got home, the cat my mom had adopted especially for me as a reward for completing treatment. Wanted nothing to do with me! Apparently when she went to adopt a cat , the cat, named “Lady” reached her paw out and grabbed my mom. She was always my mom’s cat. I didn’t realize until 2013 when I adopted Mr. Cat, that cats sometimes pick there owners.

Which I should have realized because asshole , I mean stepdad 1, had a cat named Dink, and when he brought her to our house she chose me. She became my cat real quick.

So I started looking in the paper and found an add where there were two female cats for adoption and the guy wanted to keep them together. I could never separate my four kitties. One I got on his two month birthday and 2 well they weren’t more than a month or two old (their mom abandoned them or something happened to her). Regardless we are one happy kitty family.

So my mom took me to the guy’s house and he wasn’t insistent on keeping them together, because when I said I could only have one he was like “ok”. I had a choice between “Skittles” and “Spitfire” I chose Spitfire right away because she came up to me and let me pet her but more importantly she was born without a tail. I remember saying to my mom “I want Spitfire because she’s handicapped like I am”. I loved that cat so much. But my cats are another entry. Back to my story.

I remember when my grandfather was down in FL so my uncle could go back and get things in order so he could move down to FL, I loved going for walks, but no one would let me go by myself because I didn’t have reflexes. If I fell, I fell straight down. So, one day my grandfather took me for a walk to the Circle K by my house and on the way back we were so close to my door but I fell, and my reflexes worked!! They came back and I was so happy.

I had been going to physical therapy, occupational therapy, and speech therapy and I was so frustrated because it seemed no matter how hard I tried I wasn’t making progress. So I made up some stupid excuse to my mom and uncle and stopped going. I felt I would never be back to the way I was before the car accident, and the doctor had said I would make the most progress the first six months (which turned out to be a bunch of bull because I after I moved in with my grandfather in MA is when I started really making progress).

I know I said I’m not giving my rapist anymore power and I really don’t think this is. I just want to explain how it was able to happen. I had a psychiatrist I was seeing before my accident, and I saw her after. For some reason every time I saw her after my car accident she increased my medication. I was so over- medicated that sleeping in my bed I wouldn’t wake up until he was 1/2 way done! Now, every night my mom locked my window, I also locked it. It turns out I didn’t know my mom was locking it, I thought I was, I really thought I was, I didn’t want it to keep happening! But my slowness, confusion whatever you want to call it, had my unlocking the window. I blamed myself for that for a long time. Now I blame being over medicated, and his moronic ass. Who does that? I mean really who opens windows, climbs in, and starts having sex with a girl knocked out on meds? Fucking moron.

Although, I never lost my personality, which at the time they said was an unusual thing. But that did not stop me from losing every friend I had, even my dad’s side of the family decided they wanted nothing to do with me. I wasn’t happy I survived. I had lost just about everything within 6 months. Me and my mom weren’t getting along. I was done. I didn’t want to be alive anymore. The day of my suicide attempt I told my manager at work “I think I’m putting in my notice” and I was having trouble holding back tears. My mom wasn’t supposed to come home that day but she heard something in my voice. By the time she had gotten home I had taken all the pills I had and was blasting Papa Roach’s song “Last Resort”. Don’t really remember much after that except I remember stumbling to her room mumbling something about Tegratol.

My mom has PTSD but it wasn’t known at the time, so when I brought home someone that triggered her, she told me I had to move out. For a long time I blamed her and thought “what kind of parent kicks their head injured daughter out?” It wasn’t really like that though and I understand it a lot better now.

So I found a roommate (bad idea she stole a bunch of my stuff), and we moved into an apartment. Now when I moved in the lights were on! I didn’t know I had to call FPL and get the energy put in my name. I should not have been living alone.

So I called my brother and asked if I could move in with him. My dad had decided to try being sober again and wanted a fresh start. So we both moved in with him. I was not taking medication at that point because I didn’t want to be over-medicated again. It wasn’t too long before I became a burden to him and he kicked me out. In fact the night before I left, he wouldn’t let me stay in the house and made me stay out on the streets of long island. He’s a dick, and I have come to terms with that.

So even though my grandmother had just died a few months before, when I called my grandfather, he didn’t hesitate to let me come stay with him. Originally, the plan was I would stay about two weeks while I found a place in NY, although I couldn’t have Spitfire up here because I didn’t have a bedroom. But when my uncle moved out I moved into the basement, and grandpa said I could have her if she stayed in the basement. Now my cats get to run around the house all day. But they are so good. At 9:30 pm they all come downstairs and hop into bed with me.

When I first moved in with my grandpa, he got me put on ssdi, bought me a really nice day bed, paid for driving lessons. My mom and most of my family were against me driving but I really wanted to drive. When I first came up here all I had was a garbage bag full of clothes, and my grandpa replaced my wardrobe. For the first time in my life, I felt like I had a home. He got me everything I needed and more.

I was having nightmares and sleepwalking, but I was hesitant to see a psychiatrist after what happened in Florida. But I saw my psychiatrist and luckily he does NOT believe in overmedicating. I do take a lot of medications but most are for medical conditions: vasovagal syncope, IBS-D, Inappropriate Sinus Tachycardia, etc.

I do take a mood stabilizer and an antidepressant but he didn’t start prescribing those until a few years after I started seeing him. And my therapist had a say as well.

I still feel like I see the world through the eyes of a 17 year old. I’m not as mature as other people my age. I still struggle with dysarthria, I still talk slower than most, (and believe it or not people are very judgmental, they hear someone talk slow the automatically think I am slow). If it wasn’t for the clonazepam I would still have to deal with intention tremors and probably wouldn’t be able to handwrite. I am still dealing with severe short term memory loss. If it wasn’t for the fact that I stay home and take care of my grandpa, I don’t know where I would be or what I would do.

I do have two friends and I think that’s enough. They have known me since I moved up here. And they have never let me down, talked about me behind my back, and never held my mental illnesses or my TBI against me.

I’ve tried to work regular jobs, but they have never worked out. I can tell when someone is treating me different than everyone else. And it’s usually not in a good way. That’s why I want to be a writer. I’ve always had a vivid imagination and I have a lot of ideas for books. I think I’d like to write young adult fiction.

I made so much progress living up here (I even taught myself to run), I have a 3.95 gpa in college, although I am one class short of my associate’s degree.

I stopped dating because I always put my all into relationships and all that happens is guys take advantage of me. That and I need 25,000 worth of dental work. My car accident fucked up my teeth, and we tried to fix them with crowns and implants but I grind my teeth at night and during the day so I ground the crowns right off. So I need to get special dentures. Thank goodness we’re all wearing masks when we go places.

I’m sure there are some things I have forgot to mention, but I think this covers most of it.

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My Estranged Grandma

The last blog I only touched on my grandma. And our relationship turned toxic, so toxic in fact I went to court and had my last name legally changed. (I do not regret it). However, I would like to talk about the good things I remember about her. She wasn’t all bad. And I believe she cared about me in her own way. And despite everything, I always had a place in my heart for her. And even though she was not in my life, I miss her.

I remember when my brother and me were young, my grandma and grandpa would take my brother and me to the Poconos, at their vacation house. It was so fun. My grandma taught me how to cross-stitch and latch hook. Which really helped me in my recovery from my car wreck. I have some fond memories of her.

And I am focusing on them. I also remember her taking me to see “Save the Last Dance”. Most of the guys I have dated have been African American, and that side of the family, well let’s just say they don’t approve. I was hoping that movie would demonstrate to her how you can’t help you fall for, or help who you fall in love with. (It was a bust, but I had fun going to the movies with her).

She will always have a place in my heart. I don’t know if there is an afterlife, but if there is I hope she has found peace and she’s with my grandpa now. (my dad’s dad). I didn’t think it her death would hit me so hard, but it has. And I choose to remember the fond memories, instead of how it was the last couple of years.

I love you grandma and grandpa and I hope you are both resting in peace.

So anyone who reads this, I would like to know what types of blogs you would like me to write about. My mental illnesses, my head injury, my mom who never gave up on me as a teenager. Anything you would like to know about me, I’m basically an open book. “Ask Me Anything”. I do plan on doing a blog post on Allison Burnett whom I consider a mentor and who is one of the nicest twitter pals ever! His books and movies are wonderful!! I’ll do a post just on him.

Please subscribe, share this blog if you’d like, leave me a comment, and don’t forget to like ๐Ÿ˜‰


Shannon Marie!


I Am Not Ok

Lately, as the days get closer to my arraignment, the more of a fog I seem to be in. I’m not eating, I feel like the tiniest thing is a herculean task. I’ve had no luck finding representation yet, and if it wasn’t for my grandpa I would have given up a long time ago.


Me and My Mom (part 1)

My mom and I at times have a very contentious relationship, we fight like mothers and daughters do. Even to this day as I’m an adult (kind of), I’m starting to realize I’m a lot more like her than I’d sometimes care to admit. We’ve had a lot of obstacles we’ve both had to deal with. She is a recovering alcoholic, sober since November 7,1995. And I am so proud of her. When she was drinking as I was growing up well life wasn’t so wonderful, but I’m a big believer in the “butterfly effect”. By which I mean if she hadn’t been drinking and abusive and married an abusive racist jackass, then I wouldn’t have turned out to become who I am. And yes, I have issues that I am working on, and I’m trying to get better, but overall I like who I’ve become.

I remember she when she first got sober she left stepdad #1, and moved my brother and me to Naples, Florida. I had to leave the gym I had been at for years (gymnastics), I didn’t like my new gym, and all of a sudden she was taking an interest in my life trying to tell me rules and stuff! I mean seriously, how dare she start to act like a parent that cares!? (๐Ÿ˜‚ )

At my new school I fell in with the wrong crowd, which really wasn’t hard to do considering I was younger than everyone else in my grade and most of the kids in my grade didn’t really want to hang out or be friends with the kid that was a year and a half to 2 years younger, even though I was in the same classes, I was just as smart if not smarter. Regardless, the only ones that wanted to be friends with me were the people that were all mostly in prison by the time I was 16.

The eighth grade is the beginning of my mom and me constantly fighting. I was a little brat that felt that she didn’t get to just stop drinking and become a parent. I felt like I didn’t have to listen to her.

I remember in the eighth grade, how me and two other 8th graders went into the bathroom with a 7th grade girl because she had iced tea with coconut rum in it. So we all drank it and got buzzed and then in the next period we were brought to the vice principal’s office. Me and him had a past the dislike was mutual but looking back, he had my number. He knew how manipulative I can be and he was one of the few people that knew I would lie and manipulate to help my cause.

So the four of us were in the vp’s office the 7th grader was crying uncontrollably (she got arrested) and my other two friends were just kind of skulking there, so I said “What’s going on?” and the vice principal went into a long diatribe about how the three of us were going to get 10 out of school suspensions and a bunch of other nonsense that I wanted no part of. I looked him dead in the eye and said “she (the 7th grader) told me it was iced tea, I had no reason not to believe her, so why are we getting punished for being duped?” He was not having that and after a few minutes of back and forth I’d had enough. I looked at my 2 friends and said “you have the right to remain silent…. use it! Until I get back” the vice principal then said something like “I’m not done with you where do you think you’re going?” To which I answered “Over your head, you four-eyed midget!” (Karma: I’ve been wearing glasses for the last 10+ years. Be careful what you say to people).

I then went and found the principal and went into my “I thought it was just iced tea”. Threw in the sad eyes and reminded him of how well I did in school and the fact that a 10 day Out of School suspension would destroy me as I wouldn’t be able to make up the work. He then stepped in, sent the three of us 8th graders home and said we’d have to meet him in his office the next morning because we were drinking alcohol on school grounds.

So I went home and my mom, who was working nights at that point, woke up and said something about me getting drunk at school and I said “I thought it was iced tea” to which she replied “Bullshit” I’ll be honest it was kind of hurtful that my own mother wouldn’t give me the benefit of the doubt, but the school’s principal did. Of course my mom could see right through me even then, that was just the beginning of our journey during my teen years. There are a lot more stories to be shared and they will be. And it’s funny how back then I saw her actions one way, but now as an adult I’m able to see them for what they were. Two completely different perspectives.

Like I said, my mom will be a series and this is just the beginning….

However, to finish the story, we ended up getting one day of in-school-suspension and 2 days out-of-school suspension. And the principal spoke with my teachers and I was able to make up the work…..

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My Estranged Family

I’m glad I started this blog even though I am learning as I go. I’ve been able to have realizations that I don’t think I would have come to if I just sat in my room diamond painting, reading, or watching tv or movies… I’ve also been spending time at my desk instead of spending the day in bed, and honestly, with all I’m going through is what I want to do all day every day. Just hide under the covers and never come out.

I am just so scared and anxious. I’m having anxiety symptoms like crazy. I got out of the bathtub yesterday and my legs just started shaking uncontrollably. I got a dizzy spell which isn’t supposed to happen since I went back on the beta blocker and the fludrocortisone acetate. (I just love spelling and saying that: fludrocortisone acetate) .

I started this blog because I want to let people struggling with Traumatic Brain Injuries, Post Concussion Syndrome, Conversion Disorder, Bipolar type II disorder, borderline personality disorder, inappropriate sinus tachycardia, et al. That they are not alone. But today I want to talk about the estranged side of my family. In 2014 I actually went to court to have my last name legally changed. My dad’s side never seemed to care about me I didn’t want to be associated with them. They always loved my brother and helped him and for that I am forever grateful and wish them nothing but happiness. It’s just who they are, I was never good enough for them for some reason and then after my car accident they really didn’t want anything to do with me. But the insult was one of my uncles sends my Grandfather a Christmas card every single year addressed to (my grandpa and family) I was never even included in their Christmas card, I was relegated to “and family” Does anyone else realize how hurtful that feels? I’ve been here since 2003, not a single birthday card from any one of them. Then, at my brother’s wedding they try and come up and hug me like it’s an ok thing to do. They violated my personal space and I let them get away with it because I wasn’t going to make a scene at my brother’s wedding. I don’t think about them a lot, but man, when I do, an avalanche of emotions comes down and overwhelms me.

I remember when Facebook first became a thing, I requested all my cousins, I wanted a relationship with them. They all ignored me so I think I blocked them for a while. I can be very sensitive, I own that. But they also know nothing about me. No one on that side really does. They don’t care enough to ever send me an email like hey how’s it going? They know nothing about me, know nothing about the way I feel about anything, I doubt they’d know or even cared what I majored in in college. But then they have the nerve to send my grandpa Christmas cards, which my grandpa then insists on showing me even after I remind him what I trigger for me it is. I guess sometimes they call him and I wish they would more (I don’t answer the house phone) but it makes him so happy. And at 92 there are times he doesn’t remember saying he would pay for Dunkin half an hour prior how can I expect him to remember that my dad’s side of the family are a major trigger for me?

When Barbara (my dad’s mom and the picture for this post) passed away, it hit me a lot harder than I thought it would. I guess I always thought there would come a time when we could try having a relationship again. A healthy relationship, which would probably never happen, but I held out hope.

As far as my uncles and aunts and cousins and stuff, they’ve made no effort to be part of my life or even pretend they care about me. Again the way they have been towards me is a LOT different then they’ve been towards my brother. They have done a LOT for him and I am extremely grateful. I don’t wish to send anything but positive vibes their way. And I accept that I will probably never have a relationship with my uncles/aunts, cousins…. and that’s ok. I keep my circle small, very small. Otherwise people end up disappointing you.

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Valentine’s Day

I’m a day late with this post but whatever. As I said yesterday, “it’s my blog and I’ll write what I want to”. I’ve been putting a lot of thought into relationships and marriage and everything, and I realized. “I don’t want any of that”. From like a young age we’re taught or at least given the impression that we should find a partner to marry and grow old with blah blah blah.

Growing up I always thought I wanted that, and then one day I realized I was only chasing guys that treated me horribly and realized it was because of the self-hatred I was feeling. And honestly, since I stopped dating, I’ve been a lot happier. I have an adjustable bed (because seriously, who wouldn’t want a bed with a remote AND a massage feature?) I also bout a huge 40 lb king size weighted blanket because they are supposed to help with anxiety. It really does, I can’t move around too much and it feels like I’m being hugged. So relaxing. I also have 4 full grown cats that cuddle up on my bed each night. And I don’t have to worry about anyone else. Well, except my grandpa but he doesn’t cause me any stress. I cause him and my uncle plenty though.

I have so much self-loathing that even though I stopped dating and everything I still keep doing the most self destructive things possible. It’s like I mess up just to mess up. Or, I’ll do good for a few months then get reminded of my screwup and regress to a way earlier point. It’s kind of like a 5 steps forward then 3 sometimes 4 back. If people could see the thoughts in my brain, or see me the way I see me in the mirror. It’s impossible to put into words. I jokingly (well 1/2) tell my grandpa he can’t leave yet because I haven’t found my place in the world and if he goes I’m going too. Seriously my world revolves around him and my cats, and that’s not a bad thing. But I need to find something else, my place in the world. I want to be a writer but who knows if I’ll ever get my autobiography that I’m still working on published. It’s an odd space to be in where you hate yourself, but you still have a goal.

Although my four boys (cats) I love with all my heart, just as much as my grandpa, my uncle, my mom, my brother, and my sister-in-law, and my little baby nephew that has yet to meet the world. (I never thought I would be so excited to be an aunt, but wow it’s hitting me hard and I already love my little nephew to death and would do anything for him).

Back to the topic at hand, I know I have serious issues I need to work on, but I am actually a little happier without having to worry about a partner. I’ve been having some health issues since Saturday when I got the summons, probably stress-related or something. And I’m glad no one is in my life romantically because I love with all my heart and put everything I have into any relationship I enter. I need to focus on myself and get my shit straight, get my mental health in check, and most importantly, I need to stop going on these crazy buy ten of everything just because I know someone will bail me out. I have so many more important things to worry about than a romantic partner. I feel like I sound kind of bitter, and maybe I am. But for the couples I know that are together I am extremely happy for them, I love my sister-in-law; she was basically everything that my brother needed and more. She is a great, understanding, beautiful woman, and I am so glad she came into my brother’s life. They deserve all the happiness in the world.

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My Quarantine Life

Honestly, my life in quarantine, in some ways, hasn’t been a whole lot different than my everyday life. In other ways, it’s been horrible. As I mentioned in my previous post I am a traumatic brain injury survivor, and struggle with mental illness. Those aren’t my only diagnoses, but instead of just writing everything at once, I would like to go into detail about how I deal with each one. The TBI is a lot to write about, my recovery, all the obstacles I’ve had to overcome, etc. So I’ll leave my diagnoses for other posts. Today I want to focus on how the last year in quarantine has been for me and what is different now then before the pandemic hit.

I have been staying home to help take care of my grandpa whom tore his rotator cuff and then a few months later, developed a blood clot that could have killed him. And I am grateful for every day I get to spend with him. But due to that, I was already at home all the time, so I didn’t think quarantine would effect me like it has.

But I found out quickly that choosing to stay home and read, write, watch tv, is quite different than being forced to. Before the pandemic hit I would go to the movies all the time, drive to Vermont (I live in MA), to get my nails done, leave my house to go to therapy and any doctors appointments, and the list goes on. If I was bored I could drive to Barnes and Noble and window shop (even though I usually, well always spent money there.) But my compulsive spending issues I will talk about another day.

All of a sudden Governor Baker shut everything down except “essential businesses”. And I want to point out that one of the “essential businesses” was Dunkin Donuts. Take that Starbucks! America Runs on Dunkin. LOL no hate towards Starbucks, I’m just not a coffee drinker and Dunks has a way better selection of stuff. Whenever I can I go and get my grandpa a “cocoa mocha” latte and a vanilla spice or hot chocolate for me. And in the summertime I am addicted to their coolattas. Although, I wish they would bring back the OREO coolattas.

Sorry I went off on a tangent, (side effect from head injury). I constantly have way too many thoughts running through my head.

Back to the shutdown, we couldn’t leave the state, actually I think we’re back to that. I don’t know if the stay at home at night is still in effect, but that really sucks because driving is a great coping skill for me. It helps me relax and think about things and come up with ideas for stories and more. And sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and that to me is the best time to go driving. My mom is in CT I can’t go see her, all my therapy sessions are done virtually along with doctor appointments, except in certain situations.

Eventually, things started to open up again, I found a better nail salon, and businesses started having curbside pickup. Restaurants do too, which is good because whenever my uncle is off, we order from a restaurant and eat it at home. The three of us used to go out to dinner when my uncle was off, and that was great because it got my grandfather out of the house, and we all used to have a real good time.

After a month or two, I found myself getting up in the morning spending some time with my grandpa, then going back to bed. Waking up and putting on a new set of pajamas instead of clothes. My uncle had bought me a years subscription to “Dance Fitness with Jessica” yet I let my room become such a disaster area that I have no room to work out nor do I even have the energy.

Now I find myself wondering if we’ll ever be back to normal. There is a vaccine available now but there are so many anti-vaxers and now there are more contagious variants. I read an article this morning that said covid-19 will be around forever probably. And people might need boosters each year, but how long until it mutates to the point where the vaccine won’t help? Will we be wearing masks forever? (Honestly I need like at least 30 grand in dental work, so wearing a mask doesn’t bother me). It’s been a little more than a year, but there are still so many unknowns that it scares me.

So that ends this post. Like, follow, subscribe, and share if you care!



My name is Shannon Marie (yes that really is my last name). In the year 2000, I was in a car accident that left me in a coma for three weeks, and a permanent head injury. I’ve often thought it would have better had I not survived because my recovery was hell, I was called slow, the “R” word, treated horribly by people I thought were my friends, and no one in my family really wanted me to live with them.

My mom is an exception as far as that goes. I won’t go into too much detail, or maybe I will later, who knows. I tried living on my own (which was a disaster), I lived with my toxic drug addicted father, who decided to kick me out because I became too much of a burden to him… and nobody else on his side of the family even wanted to deal with me.

My grandpa on my mom’s side eventually took me in. And I’ve been with him since 2003, and he has never once asked me to leave. I now live with my grandfather, uncle, and four cats (Mr. Cat, Butter, Peter Parker, and Tony Stark).

I decided to start a blog, because although I want to be a writer, I’m kind of shy about showing other people my writing. Well, people I don’t know. And I can never seem to keep up with my diary, even though getting my thoughts out really helps me. My car accident exacerbated my mental illnesses which I already struggled with since the age of 7.

Well, that’s all for now. Please excuse my site being a mess, I still haven’t been able to set up the page with a theme. Also, feel free to “Ask Me Anything”. And for those that have never seen that movie written and directed by Allison Burnett, I highly recommend it. It is based on the book “Undiscovered Gyrl” by Allison Burnett. One of my favorite authors and someone whom I consider a mentor.

Something Is Not Right

I’ve been sick and in bed since late last week, my stomach has been in a LOT of pain and I’ve been in bed watching movies and tv shows on Amazon. I haven’t been on here because I just haven’t been feeling right. I’ll be back when I’m feeling better.

Don’t forget to like, follow/subscribe, and maybe leave a comment (I answer to all of them) and hopefully I will be back soon.