ON EMOTIONAL GROWING PAINS — When Religion Demonized Artistry.

Reflection from December 2nd, 2011 @ Age 30

RE:  LEARNING ABOUT A LIFE BUILT UPON A LIE.

Oh my.  I just emailed President Obama’s website.  LOL…I did!  I’ll tell you what I did…

I got on his website to sign up for the contest to win a trip to DC to have dinner with him.  Then, I got to reading the rules and regulations for same (LOL…it is true), and found out that you don’t even have to make a donation to enter the contest!  Which, of course, made me love Obama even more, so I signed up for the contest and then made a donation as well!  And then, I ended up looking for t-shirts on the website and discovered that the selection was absolutely horrendous!  So I also ended up emailing the Obama campaign, suggesting some alternative styles for the women’s selection. 

I mean, the message I wrote was borderline ridiculous; I ended it by saying “I look forward to supporting President Obama in style”.  It’s retarded, I know.  But it’s also me.  And as much as it is difficult to be me, being so different—I really do love me so much more than so many other people, because at the very least, before anything else, I am genuine, and to me, anyways, that is what matters the most.  And speaking of genuine…

I wrote an email to Ben, Nicole, Adam, Megan and Kelly in response to an invite for tonight to hang out at Megan’s place.  And apparently my email was a little too something, such that Adam immediately, upon reading it, told me it was weird.  And the fact of the matter is, it probably was weird!  But I don’t really care at this point because I’m sick of trying to conform myself to please other people, especially when most of those people I can hardly stand to begin with! 

I don’t know, I’ve just fucking had it with people.  I am friends with Charity and Jes on Facebook and neither of them have responded to any of the emails I have sent them over the past year, probably two or three a piece in that time.  Jen hardly responds to me at all anymore, and not just because of the baby because it started quite some time prior.  I don’t think Dr. Restuccio likes me anymore because I switched to my mom’s doctor for a time, before I ended up switching back to him, which I told him. 

It’s just a problem.  I know I’m the problem.  I eagerly await a laughing response from the Obama campaign, except that I’m sure there will be no response at all.  Par for the course, as it all seems to go.  I can’t fucking stand this horrible world that I live in. 

I read on MSNBC today an article, and then watched the corresponding video, about a women sitting with her four year old child in her lap, riding on a subway in London, fucking swearing up a racist storm to all the black people on the bus.  It was so horribly disturbing; I could hardly stand watching it, as awful as it was.  I just don’t know how my mind works—if I get in these moods where I can only focus on the evil in this world, or if the evil is really just all the more present.

I swear to you by god, cross my heart and hope to die, that I have been taking my medications as prescribed.  The difference is that I have cut my calorie consumption from about 2,500/day to 1,500/day.  Today I didn’t even eat that much, and I’m pretty sure what is happening.  I’m pretty sure the less I eat, the more the Focalin works.  The Focalin is known to cause mania in bipolar patients, of which it has to some extent this week with me (the cut started Monday).  I know my emotional range has extended this week, and I have Adam sitting here all the more eager to let me know as well.  It’s so fucking annoying, and yet I also know that what’s happening with me cannot necessarily be good.

The problem, though, is that it feels so fucking good.  I’m not taking any medications or drugs other than those that are prescribed.  I’m not taking any of my medications other than the manner in which they were prescribed.  The only difference between now and Monday is the major cut in calories which I have accomplished this week.  Which, by the way, has been an interesting process—as the less I eat, the more the Focalin works, and the more the Focalin works, the less hungry I become.  I’ve moved from 148lbs. to 146lbs. in 5 days.  That’s a cut of at least 700 calories per day!  And I can’t begin to tell you how good it does feel, to fucking be able to feel once again. 

Ohhhhh, but I know it’s not good.  And yet I dread having to stop it all the same. 

I just got done talking with Andy on the phone, and to be honest, it was a totally depressing conversation.  Rachel’s health has been spotty for quite some time now at best, she’s lost so much weight it’s almost scary, and she’s stressed beyond belief.  They both are, both of them.  They are stressed beyond belief.  It almost makes me feel guilty, how good I have it—even though I have worked very hard for what I have accomplished. 

And I am not without struggles, I have I don’t even know how much school loan debt, however much can make up $1,300 payments per month for some 20 years.  It makes me sick to think about, but yet—I can pay all my bills, I am saving some money and I still have a little left over to spend.  In addition, I do have a doctorate education, I am young and beautiful, I have a Plan A to my Plan B, and I have hope.  And yet, it’s still so fucking hard to have faith in this world so full of people and circumstance just spewing forth evil. 

I don’t have the energy to get into it now, but I am so sick and tired of hearing about these stupid politics going on.  As far as I am concerned, the Republicans are all assholes out to protect no one except their rich selves—bunch of assholes they are, motherfucking assholes.  And even there, I know I should not be writing these words, but if I cannot create what is real, how can I really create anything worthwhile at all? 

I have to start pretending, this is the funny part I know, but I have to start pretending that I am not feeling this way.  At least to Adam, because otherwise, he is going to make me fix the medications so I am all the fucking more numb once again.  Ohh I have so very much more to say! And I am too tired now to say it, but I will try to be back soon again.

2 thoughts on “ON EMOTIONAL GROWING PAINS — When Religion Demonized Artistry.

  1. Pingback: ON THE NORTHERN LIGHTS—ohhh, you **show** off, Mother Nature ;oD | JANE SAYS

  2. Pingback: ON WORMWOOD — And His **Dear** UNCLE ;0) | THE CULTIVATION OF BEAUTY

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