Journaling Day 5


Warning: spiders discussed

JusJoJan 1 & 2: spider and time and journaling

We keep spiders in the house – my mother, very superstitious, said it was bad luck to kill a spider – and any time I do by accident when I’m sweeping, I feel bad.

Spiders, if small enough can stay and eat the ants that swarm out of the walls  and through the cracks usually in Spring time, but we had an winter invasion this year. Spider webs take care of other creepy crawlies like silver fish and the millicentipedes that seem to drop from the ceiling.  We live trap everything but silver fish, millicentipedes and really pesky flies. Spiders that are too large or scary looking get the time out treatment – caught under a glass, then thick paper slipped under, and taken outside. If it’s really cold, it’s a death sentence., so we might take them next door. (Don’t tell the landlord we house sit for).

I like the jumpy spiders – the sort that jump across the wall or the floor. They stay small, most of the time, and are harmless. Rarely see Daddy-Longlegs these days. Miss them from my childhood. Just like praying mantis. But that’s a different insect family.

So, if you don’t like spiders, you probably shouldn’t visit – there’s bound to be one or two dwelling somewhere in the corners, or ceiling of our place. You might want to limit your time here if you did come.

So, I’ve spent some time on spiders (A friend suggested I just jot for myself in my journaling, so I picked the first two words. I might link later)

Another friend suggested that I play a game with my voices “Listen to your negative talk and for every negative thought say something positive.” Doesn’t matter if you believe it, just say it. Just keep going that way. “Soon your brain will think less negative” She warned it won’t be magic, but maybe it will help pull me out of the darkness I’m in. The voices howl and whisper, and seem so rational and logical. So true and believable, it will be hard to counter them with positives that I don’t buy into or believe. Guess it’s about resetting your responses, pressing replay and getting a different tune. I’ll try. But it seems so hard. Like everyday seems so hard.

Another wet, cold day. Errands done, but milkshake consumed. So nothing else to eat today. Calories, sugar, fat, spent. Peppermint candy cane shake – left over from Christmas. So depressed, like moving through molasses – everything a struggle. And not much achieved. Just tired. So very, very tired of it all. Pain starting to build, so break from typing. Maybe all for today’s entry.


Journaling Day 2 31.12.16



Considering getting another blog that is password protected so I can really spill my guts if the object is to let loose all the motions and emotions of the day. Hard to do if it’s in a semi-public space. Even a new blog with new pseudo is dangerous as I can slip up and give myself away.

Trip to the mall was a waste of time – had to try on stupid too small bras and see my gut in all it’s ugliness in a full length mirror – 40 inches and it won’t go down. Only out in front, like I swallowed a mis-shapened basketball.

In the bipolarsphere, I’ve been binging, I know, I fight the urge to eat junk and salt every minute. I want to drink – but I’m not, and I want to spend money. I’m spending some but putting back a lot of stuff before the check out. It’s the horrible time when I’m manic and depressed – what the shrinks say can’t happen but does. I’m looking for sometime to raise my mood – food, stuff, hope like in a DIY project I’ll never DYI.

Seems like I spend all my time fighting something and I’m so tired of it. Tired of always being on the outside, fighting to get it. Fighting to stay on a diet of some sort. Fighting the voices. Fighting food, self-image, binging. I want to drink – I can taste the cider or the wine. As a high-functioning alcoholic, I’m very particular about what I drink.

Tried to tidy-up today, but got defeated by the vastness of it. That’s what always happens now – everything seems so vast, I can’t begin because there is just so much. I can’t see the tiny corner, I can only see the four shelves. Open the bin, see the mess, and close it – unable to strategize how to fix it.

Just like there is too much to say about how I feel today to write down. I don’t have the words, gone with my hair and brain cells. Gone with the Wind – and I never had Scarlett’s 18 inch waist to fret about, nor Tara to go home to.

Sure enough, the GERD wheezies are coming on. I had lunch and a coffee this afternoon – too much. My stomach can only handle coffee in the morning then supper – an more than that or earlier than evening makes the wheezies come. I hate that asthmatic feeling that takes me back to my childhood of getting asthma like symptoms at the tail end of a cold or with really bad allergies like true hay fever. Brings back the taunts and other baggage. When you didn’t have a happy childhood, every memory is smeared with shit of some kind. Holds some darkness within it. I often wonder what it’s like to have fond memories of growing up. Does it help or hinder how that person is now?

Tired too. Drugs make me tired. Never really sleeping makes me tired. Life makes me tired. Writing this makes me tired. So enough for today. Or for now.