Happy New Year!!

The last couple of months have been absolutely crazy. My mom moved in, I got pneumonia, I did a lot of work on the house, and I finished my bedroom (YAY!), so now that all that’s done, I can focus on my blog here and also my writing.

I have so many ideas for books, but when I would sit down at my desk, I couldn’t concentrate. My room was such a mess it was all I could focus on.

About 2 years ago, I decided to redo my entire room. I bought dresser things to put together, a shoe rack I was going to use to keep my books on, and a DVD/blu ray stand. I spent a lot of grandpa’s money. And then it just sat in my room, I got rid of the furniture I had, so basically, my room was like an obstacle course.

I was originally spending one week working on cleaning upstairs and one week on my room. But that wasn’t really working. I mean I was making progress, but there was no way I was going to be done by the new year. so, after I recovered from pneumonia, I decided to spend the entire month of December downstairs working in my room. My goal was to have it done by yesterday and I finished a day or two early. I am so proud of myself for getting it done. My mom was very proud of me as well.

It just feels so much better sitting at my desk and being able to look around and see the carpet, not junk. So this year is starting out right, I just hope I can keep it up. My main problem, aside from the room, was that I kept falling into a deep depression. I was in for so long and then my grandpa died, and then I just threw myself into working on the house.

I miss my grandpa so much. If there is an afterlife, I know he and my grandma are proud of how my mom, Eddie, and I have come together as a family.

That’s it for now, just wanted to say “Happy New Year” and explain a little about what’s been going on with me.

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Today Is My Birthday

I still haven’t finished the second part of 12 weeks ago. I’ve been working on it, but it’s hard because *spoiler alert* my grandpa, the person who took me in when no one wanted me, bought me whatever I wanted, and was my world… died. On June 13, 2022. And it’s just been hard to write and tell the story about what happened on this day in the hospital or write about how miraculously we got to bring him home on hospice and my uncle, and I spent a night and day each with him before he passed.

it’s hard trying to tell that story because it keeps reminding me of how scared I was and how uncertain my future was. And how, even now, a few months later, I still find myself going back over memories and wondering if there was a point that had we picked up something was wrong, could we have fixed it?

The doctor said “colon twisting” is an end-of-life thing, so essentially the answer would be no, but I can’t help but wonder at times. He was cremated, and the hospice nurse took off his wedding band because it couldn’t go with him. she handed it to me, and I didn’t have anywhere to put it, so I started seeing if it would fit on any of my fingers.

Later on, after they took grandpa’s body, I asked my uncle what we wanted to do with grandpa’s ring. He said, “I think it’s in a good spot.” Then he spoke to my mom, and she agreed. It would keep me close to both my grandparents since it was the wedding band engraved with both of their initials and the date they wed.

This was supposed to be a post about my first birthday without grandpa, and it basically turned into a grief post, I guess. Well, I’m going to try and get some work done, but I’ll try to do another post soon.


12 weeks ago (part 1)

Today (Tuesday), I got my botox injections for migraines. 12 weeks ago, I also got botox injections. When I went home 12 weeks ago, my grandpa was in a massive amount of pain, yet he refused to see a doctor. He also swore up and down that there was no way he was going to the hospital.

We had put a baby monitor in his room because he kept falling out of bed (he agreed to it, we didn’t hide it from him). And that night (Tuesday), he kept me awake the entire night moaning and groaning, and I could see on the monitor he could not get into a comfortable position. He was up all night. I was up all night. I had a virtual appointment that I slept through because I crashed.

The rest of the week went exactly like that, but it got progressively worse. It wasn’t until either Saturday or Sunday that he was talking gibberish and not making any sense whatsoever, and we were able to call 911 and get him to the hospital.

The hospital told my uncle and me that Grandpa had low potassium and a UTI. It was a significant relief because the hospital made it seem like it was no big deal.

I went and saw him on the following Monday, and his stomach was swollen to the size of a basketball! I was absolutely speechless! Then the hospital told us that his colon was twisted, and they wanted to do a colonoscopy and possibly surgery. My grandfather was 93 years old, and they were talking about doing exploratory surgery like it was nothing. I’ve had exploratory surgery, it’s not super easy to recover from, and I was only 15!

The doctor did a colonoscopy, and it seemed like he was improving. Until they took him to rehab. Four days of rehab and they sent him back to the hospital. He was so confused, I was in the emergency room with him, and he was just so confused. He couldn’t even tell which was his right hand and which was his left. Meanwhile, the doctor was sitting there talking about how that night they were going to do a colonoscopy, and then the next day they were going to do surgery. So I went home and waited for a call from the doctors. It was at that point I started to suspect that we might lose him, although I didn’t want to admit it to myself or anyone else. I didn’t even want to consider the possibility. So I tried to stay positive and tried to convince myself everything was going to be fine.

Later that night, the hospital called and informed me that they didn’t have a bed available for my grandpa, so they were sending him to another hospital where they would do the surgery that night. Honestly, I wasn’t mad about that. The hospital he was in first is really not that great. They misdiagnosed me at least three times, and they kept writing off my concerns, my mom’s concerns, etc.

This is much harder to write about than I thought it would be. So I’m going to stop here for today, and tomorrow I will do part two. I actually started this entry yesterday after I came home from getting my botox injection. I get them every 12 weeks. On Tuesdays, for my migraines. It really works. Anyway, I’ll do part two next and explain the rest of what happened.

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I’m Back

It has been a really long time since I’ve written on this blog. My apologies to anyone that enjoyed reading about my life and other things.

I went into a very dark depression after finding out about my uncle, and at that time, my grandpa wasn’t in the best of health either, although, he kept promising me 100 (a promise he was unable to keep). But that will be a separate entry or maybe two.

My mom graduated from school and got her masters in Divinity? I think that’s what it’s called. And she is now an ordained minister. Personally, I’m agnostic, but her church views are actually non- hypocritical beliefs I can get behind. More on that later, in another entry.

And, of course, I can do an entry on how things are changing for me and what’s going and how I’m dealing with it. Some days things look really bleak. Others, they don’t look so bad. I’ve been spending a lot of time with a new friend and really enjoying myself.

And, of course, I’ve been leaning on “K”, my best friend who also did a lot to help me with my grandpa. And grandpa loved her so much. He looked forward to her visits, and I know that I, and my family will forever be indebted to her.

So I have a LOT to talk about, and this time I’m going to try to keep up with my blog and not disappear again.

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Does not go away. Yesterday was the 19th anniversary since I lost my grandma (cookie), it’s really not getting easier as time passes.

Then I have what’s going on with my uncle, who is dying. I am grieving so hard, and he’s not even gone yet. I’m mad at the world right now. My uncle is the closest ally I have in my family and it just hurts so much.

I’ll try to write more later, but no promises. My life is a wreck right now and it’s hard sometimes to do the simplest things.


Monday (finished on Thursday)

This past Saturday I got my second Pfizer shot. I woke up in the middle of the night and my glands were all swollen, my throat was killing me and I had pain all over my body. No fever though. Except for the soreness and lethargy it wasn’t that bad.

Then at 3am in the morning I just got hit with inspiration and went to my computer and started typing out a “fact sheet” about my main character in the trilogy I’m writing. Well the only book I have planned is the first one, but I do plan for it to be a trilogy.

I don’t think I’ll be able to just start at the beginning though. My thoughts are constantly racing and changing and I think starting from the beginning was kind of holding me back.

I think I’m going to just write a chapter at a time and see how it turns out, then put them together during the revising/editing process. I feel like every writer needs to find their own process that works for them. And this is shaping up to be mine.

I figure I’ll try that because I just was not writing, I had all these ideas in my head, but when it came to typing them out or trying to get them down all of a sudden I had no idea what I wanted to say.

In other news, I found a book on Barnes and Noble.com called “Life With Bipolar Type Two: A Guide To Stability” by Eleanor Worsley. It is really refreshing to find a book that’s strictly about BPII. Just about every book on bipolar I’ve read focuses on BPI and kind of ignores BPII, which in my experience can sometimes be worse. Just because those with BPII don’t go full blown manic, we do go hypomanic, which isn’t full mania, but it’s close. However the main difference is that people with BPII are depressed a lot more. I can’t think of the stats right now, the percentage of time someone with BPI spends depressed is way less than someone with BPII. It’s more difficult to diagnose hypomania, which is why many people with BPII end up just diagnosed with a depressive disorder. It’s a fascinating topic to read about and it’s really nice to read about someone who struggles with what I struggle with as well.

I’m also reading the 20th anniversary edition of Steven King’s book “On Writing”. I’m feeling pretty good and creative about my writing, feeling positive that I will figure out the best writing style for me. πŸ™‚

Redoing my room is a way bigger project than I thought it would be. Yesterday I had to move my broken armoire up the stairs and into the garage, I have a huge bruise on my knee. So today I’m hoping to fill up another bag or three of stuff to donate.

Luckily even though I still owe my uncle over $4,000, he let me spend over $800 to get the rest of the things to finish my room. It’s a BIG project. But I am starting to see some progress. I’m tired of living in a disaster area like a slob. And it always happens the same way. I get my room clean, neat, and organized. But then I’ll drop something on the floor or I’ll go a week without vacuuming and before I know it. Everything is just a mess.

I want to add a picture that shows how my brain works, it’s a good accurate meme.

This is an accurate representation of how my brain works now. My TBI also exacerbated my BPII and my BPD, which makes it very difficult at times. Plus my intention tremor makes things more difficult sometimes.

Also, this is how I got my nails done on Monday. I also rejoined Planet Fitness because next Saturday is 2 weeks since my second vaccine. So I can get back into a workout routine, and hopefully lose the rest of the weight I put on during my year in bed eating junk. (That’s a story for another day).

My nails.
My pedicure.

Well that’s all for now. I’m going to try to start making more entries. I’d like to build a bigger audience, especially because I feel I have a lot to say about my life that may help people.

So if you like this entry or any of my other entries, please follow or subscribe, share any of my entries, and don’t forget to like and comment. What would you like me to write about? I’m very open to suggestions.


Lee/River from “The Circle”

Answered my message on Instagram!!! I haven’t been this excited since Allison followed me back on twitter!!!

I meant to do a series of posts on “The Circle” season 2, but I had a 4 day migraine and then a bunch of other stuff happened and I never got around to it. “The Circle” is a show on Netflix where people enter and form alliances and get to know each other on social media. So people can come in as themselves or they can come in as a catfish.

Season two was played very strategically. And after the first episode I wanted Savannah to win, but Terilisha threw her under a bus and took absolutely no responsibility for her part in blocking Bryant. But I digress. The ones that made it to the end were: Lee, an author posing as a 21 year old name River, Courtney, Chloe, Lisa, and Jack, (but Lisa and Jack played a guy named John. Full-time psychic, part time Santa_ Only Courtney and Chloe played themselves. It was the opposite of last season where all the catfish (except Seaburn) were exposed.

Lee AKA River really impressed me because he’s an older gentleman playing a much younger one and he was able to keep up with the lingo, he’s very social media savvy, and he was able just be a character he made up in his head. Which makes sense. A writer would be a really catfish. My goal is to become a writer, and I’ve had a character in my head for some time now. I know everything about her, from her life at home, to why her stepdad adopted her. If it was just on social media I could totally pull off what Lee managed to pull off. I was really pulling for him. Kind of obvious as to why. He’s a writer, I want to be a writer. And he was just so good!! If I couldn’t see it for myself, I would have believed he was a 21 year old.

Him and Courtney, they were adorable together. The “messy queens” and then with Chloe they were the “Cardashians”. It’s a very entertaining show and any one who hasn’t seen it I suggest that you should watch it. Both seasons because they each turned out very differently.

I can’t believe he answered me back! And not only that but he gave me advice as well! Same advice that Allison gives me. Write, write, and write some more. He also suggested a book by Stephen King that helped him. Stephen King wrote a book on writing, I ordered it earlier.

I’m currently watching the “where are they now” on YouTube. And of course everyone loves Lee. He just seems so nice and cares about others, and I love how he embraced the whole “messy queens” label.

Just like in season 1, it’s good to see that the cast is keeping in touch and seem to genuinely like and respect each other.

The Circle is definitely my Netflix addiction. That and the show “You” based on the book series by Caroline Kepnes.


My Relationships With Everyone

So I printed out the symptoms of BPD from the Mayoclinic website. I’m going to go through each one and how it’s affected not only my romantic relationships but also my relationships with family, friends, and even myself. I will be using names of the three relationships I spoke about yesterday but I’m changing one of their name. My healthiest relationship guy I’m going to call Jake, the other two I’m using their real first names because I don’t owe them shit. But I don’t know how Jake would feel if I used his real name, so to be on the safe side I’m going to call him Jake.

Since I wrote about him yesterday I have been missing him so much. I want another chance! LOL. I can do long distance for a while. LOL wishful thinking I know.

Okay, I’m going to get started with the BPD symptoms and how they’ve affected my relationships.

  • An intense fear of abandonment, even going to extreme measures to avoid real or imagined separation or rejection: For this one I think I’m going to go to Will (the last one I mentioned, the toxic BDSM guy). I was so scared he was going to drop me I really went to extremes, I bought him stuff all the time, I let him go way too far because I was convinced that if I couldn’t keep him happy he would drop me like a bad habit. I wanted so badly for him to like, love, and respect me, and I was so scared he was going to leave, I went to extremes to try to keep him happy. Although I don’t think he appreciated anything, and since he was fucking anything with legs he certainly didn’t care or respect me, despite what he said. He basically rejected me anyway.
  • A pattern of unstable intense relationships, such as idealizing someone one moment and then suddenly believing the person doesn’t care enough: well this one goes to Bobby the ghoster as well as Will. With both of them, one minute I was idealizing them and spending all my time trying to make them happy, and the next I absolutely hated them. And it was an unstoppable cycle. With Jake, I never really went through that. He treated me really well, and for some reason I trusted him, and didn’t have that fear. I knew how he felt about me, I never doubted him for a second when we were together. But after he had enough and wouldn’t take me back (I really can’t blame him for that though.) I was mad, and I remember trying to get him back by sending him song lyrics and writing how sorry I was and how much I loved him. For a little while after it ended I felt he was being unfair and kind of a little cruel. But I now realize that I wasn’t being fair to him and he did what he had to do for himself. The Weeknd has a song on his latest album called “Hardest To Love”, and I feel like that song really describes me back then and sometimes even now. There’s also a song by Mariah Carey and Ne-yo “Angel’s Cry remix” I feel like the Neyo verse describes Jake and I, at least how I felt.
  • Rapid changes in self-identity and self-image that include shifting goals and values, and seeing yourself as bad or as if you don’t exist at all: This is really about my relationship with myself, although it has affected my relationships as well. I have a very distorted self image. My self-esteem isn’t great in some areas. Although it’s wonderful in others, but as far as my looks go I’m really not confident at all. In fact there are some days where I feel fat, ugly, and worthless. In fact pretty much the entire quarantine I haven’t even put on makeup or care how I dressed or anything. It’s hard sometimes. My entire life I’ve suffered with my self-identity, I couldn’t figure out who I was or what I wanted in life. My goals and values would change whenever I was with a different guy. I didn’t know who I was so I would shift what my values and goals were to whatever I thought the guy would want. Although now, I’m doing pretty well in that area, I know my values and I know what I think is the right thing and I’m unapologetic when it comes to my beliefs. I hope if I get into a relationship that doesn’t change. And my goal of being an author stems back to when I was a child, I was constantly reading, and I used to write short stories. I really think this would be the best profession for me, and I love it.
  • Periods of stress-related paranoia and loss of contact with reality, lasting from a few minutes to a few hours: well I would definitely get paranoid that whomever I was dating would just leave me, especially when I was under stress, but the other parts don’t really apply.
  • Impulsive and risky behavior such as gambling, reckless driving, unsafe sex, spending sprees, binge eating or drug abuse, or sabotaging success by suddenly quitting a good job or ending a positive relationship: Oh wow, this will be a long one. Well, I never been a gambler, reckless driving- a few times especially with Will, he’d call late at night and I would have a sleeping pill in my system and I’d drove the 40 minutes to his house and didn’t bother with red lights. Or stop signs. Unsafe sex, wow. Ironically I got less promiscuous after my car wreck. But in High School, I can’t even put a number on it. I cheated on my boyfriend with his best friend at a house party that he was at as well. We might have gotten away with it, or at least been able to finish, but we were drunk and forgot to lock the door. All of a sudden my boyfriend stormed in and his friend bolted. Before you judge, my boyfriend was an abusive dickhead and the only time he would stop abusing me for a little while anyway is when I cheated on him and made sure he found out about it. It was like whenever I cheated he realized, “oh shit, I might lose her, I should probably stop hitting her”. As for the promniscuity and not knowing a number, well I was molested as an infant, I had bipolar, BPD and a mother that kept trying to get me help. Don’t Judge. I appreciate all she did now that I got help and am an adult, but as a teenager it was super stressful and very inconvenient. I honestly don’t remember if I ever used protection, probably not, but I started getting tested as soon as I went on birth control at like 13. I give my mom major props for that, because I’d be a parent of like 20 kids. Anyway, moving on next up is spending sprees, let’s just say yes, and maybe I’ll go into more detail in another post, or when my little situation is taken care of. I will say I spent a LOT of money in relationships thinking if I bought stuff for them then they wouldn’t leave me or get tired of me and they would like me more or I also had this delusion at times that they’d realize I was perfect for them after I got them stuff or something. I also spent a lot of money on lingerie, sex toys, etc. To make them happy. Binge eating or drug abuse: well yeah, but again that had more to do with my relationship with myself. I would binge, throw up, repeat. At 19 I just stopped eating and went from bulimia to anorexia. As for drug abuse, big yeah, and not just alcohol and weed. Throw in some coke, special k, angel dust, ecstasy, blah blah blah. The funny thing is that I didn’t really like them. I don’t like feeling stupid and like I can’t think, or control my thoughts. But I kept doing them hoping for a different result (Isn’t that like the definition of insanity or something?). And finally, we have sabotaging success by suddenly quitting a good job or ending a positive relationship: yep on both counts. My very first job was in retail and yeah I had to quit because I was moving back to New York, but I totally got sent home the last day. I cursed them all out, I couldn’t handle the thought of never seeing them again and I went into self-sabotage mode. As for ending a positive relationship, Jake.
  • Suicidal threats or behavior or self-injury, often in response to fear of separation or rejection: Spoiler alert, suicidal threats/behavior don’t work, especially if the idiot doesn’t care about you. As for self-harm that was all my relationship with myself. I hated myself for a LONG time. Most of my life actually, I’m still learning how to love myself. Of course I did stop mutilating a long time ago. As my uncle likes to point out: As a teen it was drugs/alcohol, in your 20’s it was cutting, and now in my 30’s it’s shopping.
  • Wide mood swings lasting from a few hours to a few days, which can include intense happiness, irritability, shame or anxiety: My mood swings can be unbearable for my family, guys I’m with, myself. I struggle with this one, although I am on a mood stabilizer combination that is seeming to work. So it hasn’t been as bad for a long time. But it still pops up. Medication helps, it’s not a cure-all.
  • Ongoing feelings of emptiness: Not gonna lie, that’s one I’m still struggling with. Most days it’s better, I have my grandfather to take care of, I have this blog, I also have a big ass diamond painting I’m doing, I’m reading again. But I’m still struggling sometimes.
  • Inappropriate, intense anger, such as frequently losing your temper, being sarcastic or bitter, or having physical fights: Yeah definitely, although I haven’t been as bad of late. And I haven’t been in a physical fight since I was like 16. And I’m still sarcastic at times but that’s just me. But whenever I dealt with Bobby or Will I got intensely angry on multiple occasions. I don’t think it was ‘inappropriate’ however.

So while I’m doing a lot better than in the past, a lot of these issues do persist, but to a lesser extent. I’m in a good space now, but it took a lot of work to get here, and I still have work to do. Although I kind of feel like that’s everyone. Everyone has their own issues that they need to work on, and that working on someone’s self is an everyday thing.


BPD Relationships

I read somewhere that having a relationship with someone who has BPD could be considered a “life sentence” of misery. I don’t remember where I saw that (short term memory loss, TBI), but here are my thoughts on that:

I feel that CAN be true, if the person with BPD doesn’t have a handle on it. Seriously, it’s a personality disorder and you can’t treat it with medication, but there are treatments for it. DBT, CBT, talk therapy has helped me more than either DBT or CBT. Plus, since I have bipolar as well, I do take medication, and it helps with my mood so I kind of feel like it helps my BPD as well. I could be wrong and it could just be a mental thing. Either way, I feel like it’s under control. So basically if someone gets into a relationship with someone with BPD, 1.) that person should be aware that you suffer from mental illness, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. If they bounce after being told that, then they wouldn’t be able to support you and deal with your moods anyway. That really sucks when that happens. However, it’s better to know in the beginning he’s a douche than way down the line. and 2.) you should have it mostly together, at least be working on it and working on yourself. 3. Personally I get attached really easily and that can be hard for a partner to deal with. It’s better that they know about the love/hate cycle that can happen, and again therapy, in whatever form, is a must I feel. As borderliners we need to really work on ourselves and it’s not fair! But it’s true.

I was seven years old when I started showing bipolar traits, and by the time I was 16 my borderline personality was so severe that even though they don’t normally diagnose BPD until you’re 18, they diagnosed me with Bipolar Type II, and BPD.

I’m not going to lie, it’s been very hard for me. Back in 2008 (I think), I dated this wonderful guy, we went on dates to Coney Island, Six Flags, Central Park, he was (and I assume still is) absolutely wonderful. It’s probably the only healthy relationship I’ve ever had. And I fucked it up, I went all Borderline on him then when I changed my mind he wasn’t having it. It still hurts to this day, I would give anything for a second chance with him, but he’s in a different state and I’m up here and wouldn’t leave here for anything. I wish him all the happiness in the world though.

Fast forward to the one night stand that just WOULDN’T GO AWAY! Well that’s not entirely true, but that’s all he was meant to be, I was rebounding! But he kept calling and being all sweet so I kept talking/sleeping with him. But then, he started ghosting me all the damn time! Every other week it seems like he would just disappear with no explanation. If anyone is like me, that’s the one thing I ABSOLUTELY CANNOT STAND. Being ignored ignites anger that no one wants to see He wasn’t married though so I really have no fucking clue where he went all those times. And then he would come back and blame everything on me! He used my mental illnesses and my TBI against me. And I kept letting him come back, so in a way it was kind of my fault. I was my own worst enemy. He knew exactly what to say to reel me back in, and my friends were supportive (not of him obvi), but they supported me and my decisions. They were always there for me. They were there for me every time he broke my heart by disappearing…. I finally smartened up, dropped him and moved on to my next unhealthy relationship.

I won’t put the blame entirely on him, but it was a toxic unhealthy relationship on both our sides. I literally hated myself and he was into the whole BDSM thing. I let him go way too far, to the point I actually was considering suicide. And he was a dick! Never cared about my opinion or what I wanted even though he said “I love you” every time we had sex. Nothing against the BDSM community, I actually think it’s kind of hot. But consensual abuse is still abuse. I should have bounced after the first concussion. LOL. We were absolutely horrible to one another. I ended it when I found out he was fucking everything he could, despite our agreement to be monogamous. So how does any self respecting borderliner deal with being fucked over that egregiously? I made him sorry for the day we met. I wasn’t going to let him get away with it. Nope, I got him and I got him good.

Ok I have totally gone off on a tangent, and I think a lot of why I let the first moron back so many times, and why I let the second treat me as though I was worthless, I honestly think it had a lot to do with the fact that I screwed up the one healthy relationship I’ve ever had in my life.

So for the last 2, 2 1/2 years I haven’t been dating, I’ve been working on myself in therapy, throwing myself into projects such as diamond painting and writing, making sure my cats are living their best lives. I read all the time, and honestly I’m in a really good place right now.

Two of my closest friends (only 2, I don’t trust anyone else), have dealt with me at my worst years ago. I did have 3 friends, I supported her constantly, when her husband was cheating I offered advice, when her husband was answering group sex ads, I was there even after I found out she was talking shit about me behind my back. (Strike One). But then, when I needed her all of a sudden she was a ghost (Strike 2). After that I was just looking for an excuse to drop her. I got it, she posted a meme that said “If Hilary couldn’t satisfty Bill, then how can she satisfy the country?” First of all, sex has absolutely nothing to do with being president, second that’s completely mysogynistic, and third, those who live in glass houses should not be throwing stones. I said as much to her on her Facebook wall, in fact I said a lot more than that. I repeated everything she told me in confidence (like I said any self-respecting Borderliner will go out with a bang). I think the longest I went without speaking to my true friends (both of them) was like 9 months or something. I was all like “I hate you!” Luckily they know about my TBI and about my mental illnesses and like the true friends they are, welcomed me back with open arms. And we haven’t fought for years since. I honestly think that subconsciously I was testing them or something. But I never went after them like I did with the fake one. I could not ask for better friends. They are true, reliable, excellent friends. Plus I love their children.

Ok, back to the topic, I don’t know when or if I’ll be ready to date again, but I know that if and when the time comes I’m at a good place and know what my triggers are and how to deal with them. I’m not ashamed of my head injury, in fact I kind of feel like I’m awesome for surviving it, when their were so many accidents and deaths at that intersection that year. (Although being proud of being a survivor doesn’t necessarily mean I’m happy about it). I survived being raped too, but I’m not happy about it, I wish it didn’t happen. But my struggle with that is for another blog entry. But I’m not ashamed in the least about having mental illnesses, it’s not my fault. And I’ve done a LOT of work on myself to get to the place I’m at. So no, I don’t think it’s a life sentence of misery for the non-borderline person. It can be, but if a person wants to overcome it, they can.

Sometimes it’s really hard, there have been plenty of times when I stay in bed knowing how to feel better, but not feeling like I could, or that I even deserved to feel better. When those thoughts start coming, I put myself in actress mode. I make it my mission to fool everyone else into thinking I’m fine. I do what I would normally do, what I should do, smile and talk to people… etc. And then all of a sudden I find I’m not acting anymore. And I genuinely feel better.

It’s about knowing yourself, loving yourself, before you can ever have a healthy relationship. I wish I had met my amazing guy now instead of almost 12 years ago. I definitely believe it would be a much better relationship for both of us. But alas, we don’t get wishes. So I just hope he’s happy and doing well and he’ll always be my 1st love. (everyone else I got involved with and thought I loved was toxic, so whatever I felt for them it was not love, even if it seemed like it at the time).

Let me go on one more tangent about BDSM. When done correctly, it’s hot. When it’s done the 50 shades of abuse way, ugh those books were terrible! I don’t understand why everyone made it such a big fucking deal. E.L. James writes like a 5th grader.

Meredith Wild wrote “The Hacker Series”, there are 5 books in the series and it’s a lot more believable and a lot healthier dynamic. He knows she was raped so he didn’t want her to know what he was into because he didn’t think it would be healthy for her, which she takes as rejection. But when she finds out she CHOOSES to get into BDSM with her. She was totally independent and that caused some friction, well a lot of friction as their relationship progressed. There was no stupid contract telling her she had to go the gym, and sleep in another bedroom, and whatever other bullshit E. L. James put in her book. It was actually believable, and a lot healthier. 50 shades of bullshit. 50 shades of abuse. Whatever you want to call it, it was disgusting. But I loved the Hacker Series. Meredith Wild knows how to write, and she writes really well.

I also heard that in the movie the two protagonists had absolutely no chemistry on screen, so she’s a shitty producer or whatever as well. I don’t get why everyone got so wrapped up in that 50 shades bullshit, when Meredith Wild writes books that are wonderful, absolutely phenomenal. And having the girl with a difficult past (the rape in college), and having her keep her independence and at times fight with him over it. Is so much better and more believable.

Tangent done, but if you go to my home page I made a separate page on Allison Burnett, a wonderful writer as well. Check it out πŸ™‚

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My Thoughts

Are absolutely all over the place. Every time I start a blog entry I end up rambling about 50 different things. I can’t even follow it. Hence why I have not written since the entry about my dad.

I got my first Covid vaccine like a week ago, I think. I just know I have to go back in the middle of the month. I had to go all the way to Lynn, Massachusetts. It was a LONG drive. I live in Greenfield which is about 2-3 hours away from Boston. It took us about 3 1/2 to get to Lynn, but we didn’t have to go through Boston, so the drive wasn’t as bad. It just took forever. But there is absolutely no where to get the vaccine. We only have like 7 mass vaccination sites, so of course I signed up for the waiting list. However, since I’m a patient at Mass General in Boston, they had multiple places with multiple openings. I chose Lynn because they had an 8 pm appointment and since my mom had to come up from CT to take me I chose that one so she wouldn’t have to leave work too early.

I do drive, but I don’t like driving on highways unless I absolutely have to. (TBI and Conversion Disorder and stuff). I’ve had long talks with my doctors about driving and how to be careful and stay safe while driving and stuff.

In about an hour I have a zoom meeting with the court appointed psychologist. I’m super nervous. My mom was like “you’ll be fine just answer the questions and don’t say anything else” and I replied “I’m not so good at NOT saying extra stuff.” LOL. So I’m nervous.

I’m glad it’s finally happening though. I’ve been waiting and waiting for this meeting. I can’t go into why or anything right now, maybe someday after it’s all over.

Well that’s all for now. If you enjoy my content don’t forget to like, follow, and comment. πŸ™‚


My Dad Died

I found out last night and I was shocked but accepting of it. A little backstory: I haven’t spoken to him in probably a decade, maybe longer. He was hooked on opioids and I got tired of his whole cycle of getting clean then relapsing then getting clean again. For my own mental health I had to walk away. He was a disappointment to me ever since I could remember.

I remember as children he would call my grandmother’s house and say he was on his way, like literally he’d say “I’m only five minutes away I’ll be right there to pick you and your brother up”. And then me and my brother would stand in the doorway of my grandma’s house counting cars and waiting. For hours. He’d never show up.

Then he would come in and out of our lives so much that I believe that’s where my BPD comes from. I was never able to form an attachment or any sort of consistent relationship with him. My mom may have been drunk and abusive, but at least I didn’t have a fear that she would just disappear one day. Every time he disappeared I never knew if he was coming back or not.

I didn’t know this back then or anything but he was addicted to opioids for a very long time. He maybe could have been a great dad, had the SACKLER family not pushed for doctors to get their patients hooked on opioids. Or maybe he still would have been a bad dad, no one will ever know.

I lived with him briefly after my car accident, but it was a disaster. Like a real disaster. The best thing that ever happened was when he kicked me out and I ended up with my grandfather.

I feel his death is a blessing, at least to him. He wasn’t living any type of life. He drove everyone away with his drug use and jackassery. I hope he’s at peace now. And as for everyone else on his side of the family, well they don’t have to worry about him crashing anymore funerals or weddings or making scenes everywhere he goes.

I didn’t think it would hit me this hard, like I said I hadn’t spoken to him in a decade or more. But today I find myself just constantly crying. It’s like I’m going backwards through the stages of grief. Last night I was in shock but I was accepting, today I woke up wanting blood from the Sackler family and then as I was driving to and from the store I couldn’t stop crying.

He was never a good dad, he hurt me tremendously my whole life until I just walked away. I legally had my last name changed to separate myself from him and his side of the family, yet I am actually grieving him and I never thought I would.

Same thing with Barbara (his mom, my grandma that was toxic and I had to walk away), I grieved her as well. Although it didn’t affect me nearly as much as my dad is.

Because no matter what, I can definitively say that of his whole side of the family, I believe he cared more than the rest of them combined. He wasn’t able to show it, and he had demons that he just couldn’t beat, an addiction that wouldn’t let him show it. But he cared more than anyone on that side.

The only one I care about is my older brother, the rest I will be throwing parties when they drop. Hopefully, sooner than later. That’s cold and callous, but so is the way they’ve treated me my entire life, and the world will be so much better off with a few less racists in the world.

That’s all for now. I have a headache from all the crying I’ve been doing and honestly I want to make some calls and reschedule some appointments because I’m not going to be any good to anyone this week.


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 picturesπŸ’žπŸ’“πŸ’—. 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. 😁

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.

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 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 NotΒ 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.

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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!? (πŸ˜‚ )

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.

Daily Writing Prompt

Daily writing prompt
How do you feel about cold weather?

I absolutely LOVE cold weather. My bedroom is in the basement (it’s finished with carpet and heat), but it still gets really cold in my room. I love when the weather is cold because I can just curl up under my down comforter (it’s got a rainbow design on it and it’s overstuffed), and watch tv, read, watch movies, et cetera. Also, my cats don’t like fans so in warmer weather if I have a fan on they won’t sleep with me on my bed. 😦 So basically I prefer cold weather to warm weather. Also, when my grandpa passed last year, I was the one tasked with cleaning his room and donating his clothes and stuff. While I was doing that I found his winter Nascar Viagara jacket and I kept it. It kept me warm all winter and made me feel close to him. Although I could do without men who are NASCAR fans stopping me everywhere I go to talk about Mark Martin. I don’t watch racing, never have, but the jacket is really warm and reminds me of my grandpa whom I still miss every single day.

It’s Been A While

This probably won’t be a long entry, but I wanted to give my readers an update as to how I’m doing. Not well at all.

It turns out my uncle’s health has been failing for over a year, and he had to go to the emergency room two weeks ago, and then he had to quit his job. Last week he told my mom, grandpa, and me that he’s not going to fight it and just enjoy the time he has left.

I’ve been extremely depressed, (my uncle is the one I am closest to in my family), a little betrayed because for the last year we’ve been making plans to fix up our house etc.

But we had a talk the other day, and we talked about personal demons, and decisions about fighting chronic illnesses. Honestly, I don’t know what I would choose to do if an MRI showed a tumor or something in my body. I’ve been fighting and surviving through so much my entire life, that I can’t honestly say I would choose to fight it, if it happened. I’m fine as of now, except for the depression, the inability to get out of bed, the feeling that I’m being abandoned again.

During our talk, my uncle said that he understands why I feel betrayed and abandoned and that he doesn’t blame me for it. And as hard as it is to accept, I understand where he’s coming from as well, and although I wish he would fight, I understand his decision and support him. As hard as it is, I just want to enjoy the time we have left with him.

So that’s basically what I’ve been up to and why I haven’t been posting. It’s at the point now where I’m having to take care of 2 people instead of just my grandfather. The other day I had to go food shopping, I had to run other errands for my grandpa and uncle, by the end of the day I was exhausted.

My uncle is still able to do things, he has hours where he feels great, he’s still able to bring the heavy stuff in from my car. And his car, (we’re going to sell mine, there’s no point in having two cars and two insurance payments when we’re living on my grandpa’s pension alone).

My grandpa is a wreck, of course he is, it’s his son! Everyone in our family is taking this hard. I’m crying even as I type this.

We were talking the other night and I said something about ending up in assisted living or something, and he looked at me and said “you’ll have a book deal by then”. He believes in me, even though lately I haven’t been believing in myself too much. He said it with such confidence too.

I have to go, I’m kind of a wreck right now.