the evolving catastrophe of the Big Bang

Painting you become the god of your own world.

Mine are messy and disorderly but interesting.

I imagine if the Big Bang theory is correct worlds started something like the painted worlds that I am god to.

I am certain I will loose interest before my paintings ever evolve into beautiful orderly forms that make sense to others and work in a systematic, esthetically pleasing, anthropomorphic ways.

...Which is why I am not a god

and might not wish to be

big bang messy me, organized chaos, primitive personality

I am okay being human today.


**and just like my title, somethings I write really aren't meant to be that deep, but rather are funny to me and that is all. 

Cat- ass-trophy. Why is that so funny to me?

My daughter wanted me to paint with cat on my mind. I tried.
then I cried because cat is not what is in my brain.
I try to paint cat but it's turning into just that
me trying to paint a cat
but this is not how it works for me
because I am not a painter, an artist, or skilled.
I am form free
painting just for me
letting myself play with paint
and sometimes something comes out that is beautiful or interesting
even if it is that only to my daughter and me.
But even though she has loved my "raw" (her words) art
I cannot paint it for her. I can only paint what I feel. or what I play.
And I feel...
He
Sad
because he is gone.
and mad
because he played
and used me.
and mad at me
because I screw everything up
even if it is not really my fault
I know that it is
labels
they will give me and then use against me.
I am sad and mad and angry
hurt and messy
I want so badly for this to be over; this to be gone
but it is not
 and the reality
is tragedy
a magic eraser cased in metal would clear it
but that is stupidity
and not me
at all
I want to be alive again
and the free
I had so close to me.
I want to be the free to be me
the illusion
he was selling me
...so
sad bad mad
and even strangely glad
but mostly
repressed
and not allowed to let things be what they needed to be
to see what they were
to know what I was and what was happening.
Suppressed
repressed
digressed
and now
bullshit depressed
so this is a fun weird post...

...and my painting is "merely abandoned"
and I am tired but feeling more rational again.
I have this luxury
and it is a luxury
so why not indulge?
I keep chasing my tail, trying to be so many things. For others? or for me?
constantly failing. while not enjoying the luxuries I have.
Right now I have time. I have support. I have paint. I have love.
It is broken.
But I have it. so indulge, I will, and see what catastrophe awaits me.
and maybe, just maybe, it might be that None I may see
as I am putting together the pieces of me
...or maybe an eternity of
catastrophe?
but that is my luxury
so I'll let it be
silly little poetry

not a cat, not a masterpiece but a messy little catastrophe
just like me.

Dear Dr. Perri Cheri

Who am I?
You don’t know
I am your life’s work
That you gave up

Because you might love me?
Too much
I know who I am
But you do not
Don’t pretend to
You will break yourself.
Because you planted yourself in me
And left
The fire to attend to itself.

Breaking Walls

Only one wall left
held up by a thread
if it should break
I have nothing
my whole life's work
shattered.
My box broken
alone and exposed
where do I turn?
all my energy is facing the wall
trying to hold it
to balance it
to keep it standing
for my protection.
while all around
and especially behind me,
where I can't see at all
I am already exposed.
But my wall is all I can see
my safety
that is breaking me
pushing me into the ground
while all around
I don't know what is happening.
Is this me
or is this you?

drop it
let it fall
Let it crumble to the ground.

Look around
Your life's work abound
-all around on the ground.

And now it can be found

These new little pieces,
surrounding me and you,
can now be used to build something new

Something we can walk through.

pretty little disaster or maybe rather Pretty Little helping the Disaster

I got permission to come in 3 hours late to work. so that I could sleep.
But at 11:30 I still wasn't sleepy, even though my brain was kind of strained and hurting. I considered just going to work and being on time. But I knew better.
My sweet daughter was concerned, so she told me to drink some chamomile tea and read something boring. "I know Shakespeare. That is usually pretty exhausting," she says. She is so funny.
I followed her instructions and started to read Shakespeare as I sipped tea at the table. She sent me to bed.
I am so glad I have her.
Prior to her care I also figured enough was enough and feeling as wired as I was I knew the clonazpam was probably not going to screw me up and make me too sleepy for the whole day, so I took 1/2 of one. With my sweet daughters help I did get another two hours of sleep out of the concoction.
I do think and hope this concoction and effort may stop another push into the extremes.
Currently I am still at work, with a not bad attitude but also not great. Loving people is not what I do right now. Right now. I don't care and even though I am not feeling overly tired I still just want to go home and go to bed.
Oh the joys of having a messy human head.

Fine lines

I fell asleep for like 30 minutes and then woke up again. And I am still awake, not feeling very sleepy which concerns me because I am supposed to work from noon to 10:30 pm tonight. Considering how I have been, I'll be an emotional disaster by this afternoon, especially if I don't get some sleep.
But then there is this other thing...
I have more energy.... I went running thinking that would do the trick. I took the dog because he is still not great on a leash and terrible on a leash if he crosses paths with other dogs so I took him to the park where I knew we would likely run into people with dogs and then that would also drain me, so I'd be tired when I got home. I thought these things (and more) very quickly by the way.
Damn it, still not tired
And even worse, I feel happy and hopeful. I am excited about my new therapist and I am finding this psychological thriller I have been living for the past year to be fun again.
And there is this:
It wasn't really about me. It was about him. He made it about him when I so desperately needed it to be about me. When I was paying for it to be about me. When I begged him to keep me.
It wasn't about me.
and how pathetic that is.
I was such a pathetic whisper of a human that even under those circumstances I was invisible or  nothing more than a mirror. Which right now I think is pretty freaking funny. In fact I literally just lol'ed.
I don't know why I think it is so funny. Probably because it is, and probably because it is such a beautiful tragedy. A pretty little disaster. Maybe because I have figured all of this out and solved it so many damn times and yet I am still figuring it out and reaching new understandings. It might also be funny because I am so tired of feeling shitty and worthless when I am really not.
Every freaking house has multiple mirrors and if you break one it is bad luck so even if I am nothing more than a mirror, or the invisible piece of glass in front of the mirror, I have some value.
Now I am going to apply for a new job... and then maybe, hopefully, I will sleep
...and hopefully not be on the verge of another joyful manic fiasco.

New Hope

I can't sleep
again.
I have been awake, laying in bed since probably 2 am. The clock said 3 last I'd checked and I had been awake for awhile before that.
I didn't actually get to the sleeping part of going to bed until about midnight.
...and I did not fall asleep right away.
Which, now looking at the time line, I may not have slept at all; "at all" being less than 2 hours.
sigh
this is not good.
What is good
(or might be)
Is my new neuropsychologist.
I like her (naturally)
and of course I do because that is what I do. I decided not to at first -just in case. But after the 3rd appointment I can't help it. I like her.
That's better than previous female therapist (from January). Therapist Rainbow Sticks is the name I shall bestow on her. I'll be honest, I only liked her because I like pretty much everybody, but really, I did not like her (Therapist Rainbow Sticks).
And I don't even mind if she reads this
because
she was interested in protecting her profession and what she most likely mistakenly thought was a referral to her. She was not so interested in my best interest. She made me feel like a chastised child. She read my email to dear Dr. Cheri and was appalled at my reaction to him, not controlling her own knee-jerk reaction, not seeing the red flags for what they were, and not asking why I said the things I said that she found offensive. The one she labeled as threatening was me referencing something he had said, she did not know this and I was too shaken by her reaction to point that out. I also felt bad, I did not feel the tone she had read it in so I felt really bad. Later that day I sent an apology to him. And in that the apology I am pretty sure I said I did not mean to be threatening, so this may have been what he used against me in the "investigation" to justify his avoidance of me. The patient advocate had told me that he felt threatened by me or that I had threatened him. I had not. The only "threat" I made was that I would file a complaint if that is what I had to do, even though I did not want to. And that comment was made in response to him telling me that is what I had to do if I wanted to discuss any issues about his treatment with me because he was no longer going to respond to me, which was also silly because I had not talked with him or emailed him since my last appointment with him. This was in January, the last appointment had been Dec. 3.
And I don't know why this is what is coming out here right now.
I have so much in my head right now, because I seem to have found a therapist that really gets the deep psychological impact of this, knows her stuff, and can keep up with me.
It might help that I am not in quite the crazy place that I was, so for that I will give the other therapists' that benefit of the doubt.
So there is that, but I am still not written-out, ready-to-sleep-tired.
but I may be done with the blog
maybe I'll write somewhere else, see what comes out.
goodnight
or rather good day