It’s 3:30 am on a Thursday morning and I can’t sleep

So, the next best thing I can do is try to clear out my head by compiling lists of things I need to get done in order to figure out what I’m doing with my life. One thing I’m doing this year – for sure – is participating in Nanowrimo, the annual “write a novel in 30 days” challenge that begins November 1 and runs through the end of the month. I have no idea what my novel will be about, but maybe it will help me get my butt in gear and actually accomplish something productive for the first time in what seems like forever.

I’ve had a bad week so far. So many things have gone wrong in so many ways, I can’t even begin to explain why it’s bad, but I’m sure part of it is the impending arrival of November and December. Those are always really bad months for me, emotionally. October usually isn’t great either, but I can usually muddle through it with only occasional spells of depression. This year seems to be worse in terms of my mental health, and I don’t see that improving much over the next few months. I’m just desperately hanging on until things get better. I hope they get better.

Every day, my desire to get out of San Diego grows stronger and I feel the melancholy ache of knowing that I don’t belong here. This is not my home. (Most of) the people here are not my people. I need to be back in the place where I was happy. I’m trying to figure out all my loose ends so that I can wrap them up, so when that magical day comes when I am finally released from worker’s comp hell, I can load up and head east. The longer I stay here, the more I realize that it’s slowly killing my spirit.

The depression is really strong right now, and I think it’s going to get much worse before I can drag myself out again. Lots of Xanax and chocolate, hugs from my cat, and occasional messages from friends are all that are keeping me going right now. I’m lost. I’m alone. I want to go home again. Is it too much to ask the universe to just kick a favour my way just once?


Cars, music, and broken abandoned things

I was in a discussion recently with a great friend (whom I’ve yet to meet in person) who lives in Detroit. She’s an amazing artist and photographer, and through her, I’ve come to appreciate the forgotten city. When people think of Detroit, it’s often in relation to the breakdown of the automotive industry and the horrible recession/depression that destroyed so many livelihoods so quickly. I jokingly commented that I relate to Detroit, because the three things the city is known best for is cars, music, and broken abandoned things. I have a deep and abiding love of cars, music runs through my soul, and anyone who has read any of my past posts knows that I am a broken abandoned thing.

Ernest Hemingway once wrote “The world breaks everyone, and afterwards, some are strong at the broken places.” I’ve not had the easiest life, but I know others who have had it much worse than me. I grew up with the knowledge that I would only ever be second best, behind my sister. It didn’t matter how well I did, how smart I was, how much I tried. I would never be the golden child. That was the first crack. I started dating and discovered that I am drawn to abusive men, either physically or mentally. More cracks. I’ve never been good enough, and because of this, I get cast to the wayside. I am a broken abandoned thing. I’m still waiting to find out if I’m stronger at the broken parts.

Here’s the irony: broken abandoned things can be beautiful. Looking at photographs of abandoned factories in Detroit, I see all the years of history and feel the pulsating energy that once filled those buildings. I don’t see rubble, I see memories. I try to look objectively at my life and see the beauty, and that’s a lot harder. Some breaks can’t be fixed. How do you get over hearing “you’re worthless” and “you’ll never be good enough” continuously without it slowly eating away at your soul?

My answer is a little 10 pound charcoal tabby and white cat affectionately known as Tiggy. He’s also a broken and abandoned thing. He was handed to me through a car window, and the woman (girl, really) who handed him to me promptly drove off, leaving a very scared cat in my arms. I took him home because I was still devastated by the loss of my previous cat Moo. Three days after bringing him home, he started peeing outside the litter box. That’s a common sign of a urinary tract infection, so I rushed him to the vet and it was confirmed. She also told me that during her scans, she discovered that he had a history of untreated urinary tract infections and that his bladder, kidneys, and urethra were terribly scarred and that he would be an expensive cat to keep because of these medical problems. She also told me that he had fractured ribs (and I recently discovered that he also had broken vertebrae in his back which have since fused and cause him to hunch over when he sits). At that point, he was literally a broken and abandoned thing.

I had a gaping wound in my heart from the loss of my Moo, so I told the vet that he was my cat, he needs me, and I would do whatever it takes to make things right for him. Thankfully, a proper diet has solved his UTI problems, his ribs healed on their own, and he loves me unconditionally. He’s no longer broken, and he’s definitely not abandoned, but that’s because the universe set out to put him in my path at the time I needed him most, and he needed me most.

I don’t think I’ll ever get past the feeling of being broken and abandoned. Too many harsh words, too many physical wounds, too many people walking out on me when I needed them most. Until then, I listen to a playlist of musicians who make me happy and I seek out cars that lift my soul. I try to remember that breaks can be repaired, but those repairs will always be imperfect. I try to accept that I am me, and to shut out those people who don’t like me or want to change me.

I look forward to finding happiness again someday. Lately, that’s been difficult. I disappeared from writing for a long while because my life had become so painful that metaphorically slashing my wrists to let the poison run out was too much to bear. The past month has been a roller coaster of emotions. The ascent so high I felt like I was flying, only to be followed by the let down that reminded me that I am a broken and abandoned thing who doesn’t deserve happiness. My depression is lying to me again. I do deserve happiness, I just need to remember that it comes from myself, not from anyone else. I’m sorting through a lot of emotions and dilemmas right now, and flowing words are how I function best. There will probably be many posts over the coming days, weeks, months, even possibly years. Many of those posts will conflict with each other as I argue with myself, and many will probably be repetitive. I apologize in advance if you’ve gotten this far.

Thing(s) that I am grateful for today: Driving around in a light drizzle with the top down and Matt Nathanson blasting on the radio. The soft, extra fluffy white belly that my cat loves to have rubbed. Dark chocolate M&Ms.

Workers compensation sucks

I’m frustrated, angry, depressed, furious, but mostly just tired of it all. It’s been over a year now, and I have worse pain now than I did a year ago. My request for surgery was turned down, so now I have to get an independent medical review to see if it can be overturned. Until then, I just get to deal with the pain. It’s so bad right now that I’m resorting to crutches, which I hate, because I can’t put any weight on my right knee at all. It sends shooting pains up my leg, in addition to the “normal” pain where the condyles are crumbling and grinding against each other.

It’s really hard to stay positive when one is constantly in extreme pain, to the point where any tiny movement when I’m sleeping causes me to wake up in agony immediately. Needless to say, I haven’t gotten more than about 2-3 hours of sleep a night for the past two or three weeks. I was able to get an emergency appointment on Friday to see what, if anything, can be done. I highly doubt anything can be done at this point, until the independent review is completed. I think the best I can hope for is stronger medication and, unfortunately, being pulled out of work again. I emailed my new WC admin to ask about a stool for underneath my desk so I could rest it on something, and he hasn’t bothered to reply. I’m not sure why I expected any different.

All I can say is that they’re not going to out-stubborn me. If they want me to jump through hoops, I’ll jump through the damn hoops, but I’m fed up with being in pain all the time.

For every high, there is a low

It seems that my life is a constant struggle to balance out my highs and lows to maintain some sort of “even” that I’m not actually sure exists. I have good days and bad days, and sometimes the bad days outnumber the good days, but sometimes the good days outnumber the bad days. I’ve found that when I’m at my lowest point, staying busy and cleaning or organizing helps my mood. There’s something very satisfying about fixing something that is broken AND fixable or organizing a space and seeing the improvement afterwards.

I took a huge emotional hit two weeks ago when I found out that I’m going to need at least two more surgeries on my right knee, which means that I’m stuck here in San Diego for a minimum of one, but more likely two, more years. Worst case scenario, it might be as long as four more years. I know it doesn’t make much sense to San Diegans as to why someone would want to leave this “perfect” place, but it has no emotional ties to me, aside from a few very good friends who live here. There are planes. I’m trying not to dwell on the fact that I’m stuck in a city I don’t like, that has emotionally been nothing but despair for me, and instead making long-term plans for how I am going to escape once it gets to that point. I’m also working on building up my credit while I have the opportunity to do so, so that when I do move, things will be easier. There is no way I’m leaving my beloved Morgan behind, which means renting a U-Haul with a car hauler, which means expensive.

I’m also starting the process of weaning away at stuff I don’t need. There are things in my storage unit that I haven’t even looked at since putting them in there. Aside from my books, that tells me that they’re not necessary to my life. In all honesty, if it weren’t for my books, I doubt I’d need anything except my clothes. Everything else can be replaced. It’s time for me to really start getting rid of the detritus in my life, so that I can concentrate on healing my knee and my life.

At least I’ve pulled myself out of the deep, dark hole I was in for three weeks, when every day was a struggle to just make it through to the end of the day. I’ll get through this.  I have before and I will again, and I’ll keep on getting through this every day, even if getting through just means pulling myself out of bed and hugging my cat.

I’m feeling a little bit topsy turvy

“If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn’t. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn’t be. And what it wouldn’t be, it would. You see?”


I think my feeling of being “off” started on July 24th when I walked out to find my roof slashed on my car. Nothing was stolen, but it still felt very much like a personal violation. My car is very special to me. He symbolizes the grown up me who is supposed to be fun and spontaneous instead of dull and boring. I feel good when I sit in my car. I enjoy the attention I get when people comment on what a nice looking car he is. (It never extends to what a nice looking driver he has, but I’m quite okay with that)

Things started to get better once I was finally able to get to the claims adjuster to inspect the tear and get a check to pay for the new roof. I felt like I was finally making some progress. Then, the following Saturday, I suddenly lost fifth gear. Thankfully, I have a dual clutch transmission, and was able to utilize fifth gear by switching into manual mode. Once again, I fell into stress mode, worrying about what this was going to cost me to repair it, even with my super awesome bumper to bumper warranty. At this point I was looking at a $250 deductible for the roof, plus a minimum of $250 deductible on the transmission repair. Since I’m still on disability, this meant that I was going to have to save up for a very long time before I could get either repair done.

I returned to work on a modified schedule, working four hours a day. After the first two days, my knees hurt so badly that I could barely walk. I made an emergency appointment to see my surgeon’s PA and he cut me back to 3 hours a day to see if that would help. I’ve discovered that if I keep my legs elevated at work, they don’t hurt nearly as bad, but I’m still having to ice them for several hours when I get home.

My check arrived from State Farm and I called the auto upholsterer that was recommended by State Farm (and more importantly, but a very close friend of mine whose wife used the same company on her beloved Miata) and found out that the cost of the roof and labor was the exact amount of the check I was given. State Farm forgot to back out the $250 deductible that I was supposed to pay. Oops. I called them and asked, and they informed me that the check was correct, so I was went with it. I ordered my new roof . In the meantime, Morgan (my 350Z) decided that he was going to use fifth gear again, and hasn’t had any shifting problems since. I still want to get it checked out, but it’s not on the urgent list anymore.

Then I went to see my surgeon. He told me that he’s done all he can do with arthroscopic surgery, and the next thing to try is a procedure called “autologous cartilage replacement.” Basically, they do a quick arthroscopic procedure where they harvest some healthy cartilage and send it off to a lab to grow into a patch large enough to cover the two condyles on my tibia that are crumbling. Then, he’ll go in and do an open surgery to essentially sew the new cartilage onto the bone, where it should theoretically grow into healthy cartilage and be just like new. Finding out I need two more surgeries put me over the edge again and I spend a good portion of Monday crying and trying to wrap my brain around the fact that this means I’m stuck here in San Diego for at least the next two years, and possibly as many as four. I’m trying to stay optimistic and think of how wonderful it will be to not have pain and grinding/crunching in my knee every time it bends, but it’s hard to stay positive right now.

I did get my new roof on my car installed on Friday, and it looks very nice. It’s driving me a little nuts that I can’t lower the roof until tomorrow afternoon, because it needs to stretch properly so that I don’t have issues down the road, but that’s a minor inconvenience that I can live with. Also on Friday, I got a surprise visit with my son, as his father had some business to attend to here in town.

At this point, I’m so mentally turned around and upside down, I don’t even know what I’m feeling anymore. I’ve been having panic attacks again since finding out about the new surgeries and I have a pervasive feeling of anxiety that I just can’t get rid of. I try so hard to stay positive and always look on the bright side, but sometimes it’s just too hard. I feel like I’m bogged down; stuck in a city I hate, for the foreseeable future, and every time I try to make any plans to leave, something else comes up to hold me here longer. I should have never moved back. I haven’t been completely happy since returning, and I’m brokenheartedly homesick for the Carolinas. It’s getting to be time for the leaves to change color, and the air to turn brisk.

I feel like I’ve lost control of my life, and that I’m surviving on the whims of others. The depression is creeping back in, and so is the anxiety. No, they’re not the same thing. I’m trying to do the one coping mechanism that generally works for me, and that is taking control of one aspect of my life and setting it right. If I can control just one thing, then I know I’m not helpless. Inside, I’m still screaming though.

100 days of happiness, and a week of sad

It’s sometimes hard to separate reality from make-believe, and maybe that’s why I’m having such a hard time dealing with the passing of Robin Williams. I did not know him, except as his characters in movies, but I feel so empathetic towards him because I know how it feels to always project a happy facade when you feel like your world is crumbling from the inside and there’s nothing you can do about it. I know my grief is disproportionate to my lack of relationship, but it feels personal to me because I know how it feels to hurt so badly. I know the wounds that bleed endlessly, and the smiles and laughs that I use to cover the pain. I’ve had a hard time finding my happy place this week. I feel lost and abandoned, even though nothing in my life has really changed. Well, except for one thing. The one I call my other half is out of town somewhere and that’s a physical pain not knowing where he is, and that I can call on him when things get truly dark for me. I feel like I’m drowning in sorrow and I don’t know when that will go away. I know I’m strong enough to beat it, but that it will exhaust me and emotionally drain me before I reach that point. To that end, I’m finally posting my entire list of 100 things that made me happy. Today, I’ll name one more. My mom praised me on how she knows she can depend on me for all things computer/technology related. Tomorrow, I’ll try to find number 102. Maybe I need to start searching out my happiness in the little things again, so that the big picture isn’t so overwhelming.

Day 1 — April 20 = Brunch!
Day 2 — April 21 = Goofing off.
Day 3 — April 22 = Cat adoption.
Day 4 — April 23 = Friends.
Day 5 — April 24 = Tiggy.
Day 6 — April 25 = Rain!
Day 7 — April 26 = Clean car.
Day 8 – Sunday 4/27 = Family.
Day 8 Bonus = My other half washed and shined up my car for me.
Day 9 – Monday 4/28 = Je parle français! (Really badly)
Day 10- Tuesday 4/29 = Fetching kitten.
Day 11 – Wednesday 4/30 = The windstorm.
Day 12 – Thursday 5/1 = Chocolate cake.
Day 13 – Friday 5/2 = Easter flowers.
Day 14 – Saturday 5/3 = Helpful salesmen.
Day 15 – Sunday 5/4 – Baby Milo
Day 16 – Monday 5/5 – cooler weather
Day 17 – Tuesday 5/6 – long nap
Day 18 – Wednesday 5/7 – May Gray
Day 19 – Thursday 5/8 – draft day
Day 20 – Friday 5/9 – worker’s comp leave
Day 21 – Saturday 5/10 – Lions, tigers, & bears (oh my!)
Day 22 – Sunday 5/11 = Mimosas & mother’s day
Day 23 – Monday 5/12 = free coffee
Day 24 – Tuesday 5/13 = great conversation with my neighbor
Day 25 – Wednesday 5/14 = surgery is done
Day 26 – Thursday 5/15 = mint chip ice cream
Day 27 – Friday 5/16 = catching up on sleep
Day 28 – Saturday 5/17 = playing with kittens
Day 29 – Sunday 5/18 = drove to the store by myself
Day 30 – Monday 5/19 = lunch/bay with Isaac
Day 31 – Tuesday 5/20 = massage
Day 32 – Wednesday 5/21 = new purse
Day 33 – Thursday 5/22 = stitches removed
Day 34 – Friday 5/23 = started crocheting a scarf
Day 35 – Saturday 5/24 = meeting with friends
Day 36 – Sunday 5/25 = scarf is nearly complete
Day 37 – Monday 5/26 = homemade chili & fresh French bread
Day 38 – Tuesday 5/27 = had fun watching Tiggy & Mandy playing together
Day 39 – Wednesday 5/28 = disability payments started
Day 40- Thursday 5/29 = new haircut and colour
Day 41 – Friday 5/30 = cleaned my room
Day 42 – Saturday 5/31 = drove around with the top down
Day 43 – Sunday 6/1 = dinner & movies with someone special
Day 44 – Monday 6/2 = did lunges & squats without much pain
Day 45 – Tuesday 6/3 = Yuengling
Day 46 – Wednesday 6/4 = homemade pasta primavera
Day 47- Thursday 6/5 = baking brownies for my fundraiser committee
Day 48 – Friday 6/6 = completed setup on the fundraiser
Day 49 – Saturday 6/7 = successful fundraiser
Day 50 – Sunday 6/8 = sleep
Day 51 – Monday 6/9 = ginger cookies
Day 52 – Tuesday 6/10 = sweet tea
Day 53 – Wednesday 6/11 = sunshine & fresh air
Day 54- Thursday 6/12 = playing with Tiggy
Day 55 – Friday 6/13 = beer & taquitos
Day 56 – Saturday 6/14 = Tiggy kisses
Day 57 – Sunday 6/15 = dad said “I love you too”
Day 58 – Monday 6/16 = finally back in PT (big hug from Guns)
Day 59 – Tuesday 6/17 = homemade peach cobbler
Day 60 – Wednesday 6/18 = #Yuengling
Day 61- Thursday 6/19 = clean car
Day 62 – Friday 6/20 = saw a drone flying around
Day 63 – Saturday 6/21 = watched a hummingbird
Day 64 – Sunday 6/22 = night driving with the top down
Day 65 – Monday 6/23 = lizard sunning itself on the hood of my car
Day 66 – Tuesday 6/24 = soaking in the hot tub
Day 67 – Wednesday 6/25 = goofing around at PT
Day 68- Thursday 6/26 = massage
Day 69 – Friday 6/27 = nighttime zoo
Day 70 – Saturday 6/28 = lunch with the family for mom’s birthday
Day 71 – Sunday 6/29 = good coffee
Day 72 – Monday 6/30 = homemade birthday cake & ice cream
Day 73 – Tuesday 7/1 = cleaned my room preparatory to my son visiting
Day 74 – Wednesday 7/2 = Mike called me Kitten all morning
Day 75 – Thursday 7/3 = helped a lost gentleman find where he needed to go
Day 76 – Friday 7/4 = a hot racing lap
Day 77 – Saturday 7/5 = new stereo in my car
Day 78 – Sunday 7/6 = napping with Tiggy
Day 79 – Monday 7/7 = enjoying the a/c
Day 80 – Tuesday 7/8 = received my Petoskey stone amulet
Day 81 – Wednesday 7/9 = heard a frog croaking (it made me really miss living on a lakefront)
Day 82 – Thursday 7/10 = saw a monarch butterfly
Day 83 – Friday 7/11 = Portillos Italian beef sub
Day 84 – Saturday 7/12 = Cracker Barrel
Day 85 – Sunday 7/13 = saw lots of wildlife
Day 86 – Monday 7/14 = back in San Diego
Day 87 – Tuesday 7/15 = zoo with mom & Eric
Day 88 – Wednesday 7/16 = harbour cruise
Day 89 – Thursday 7/17 = extra sleep, and pizza
Day 90 – Friday 7/18 = spent some quality time with my sister
Day 91 – Saturday 7/19 = quiet time by myself
Day 92 – Sunday 7/20 = orange blossom beer
Day 93 – Monday 7/21 = met a parrot that meows
Day 94 – Tuesday 7/22 = dad sending me photos
Day 95 – Wednesday 7/23 = homemade pasta salad
Day 96 – Thursday 7/24 = cute new neighbors
Day 97 – Friday 7/25 = 1500 thread count bed sheets
Day 98 – Saturday 7/26 = massage
Day 99 – Sunday 7/27 = rain
Day 100 – Monday 7/28 = organized & filed


I’ve been arguing with myself for most of the evening as to whether or not I was going to write tonight. I hate the fact that Robin Williams is trending right now. As anyone who has read my blog before knows, I have major depressive disorder. I am depressed. It’s not in my head, and it’s not something I can just smile and think happy thoughts to make it go away. Some days are better than others. There are still days when I actively think about killing myself because it feels like it’s the only solution to make the pain go away. I’ve tried before, and thankfully I’ve failed. I’ve never been so proud to be a failure at something. Depression is an insidious liar. It whispers in your ears that you’re worthless and unlovable, that nothing you do will ever be good enough, that it was a mistake that you were ever born.

I grew up watching Robin Williams, and in 1995 I was lucky enough to meet him on one of my many trips to San Francisco. I would never have thought that he had depression, just as most people tell me that they would never think that I have it. We put up walls. We hide who we are. We laugh off things that are slowly killing us inside because we don’t want to show that pain to the world, and we shouldn’t have to do that. There ARE people who love you, and you are NOT worthless. Don’t listen to the voices that tell you otherwise. We lost one of the greatest comedians of all time today. Don’t let his death be in vain. Talk to someone if you’re feeling depressed. Call a friend. Hold a puppy or a kitten. Think of three good things. Maybe even just one good thing. If you look for the happiness each day, it does help. Remember that you’re not alone. Even when you’re by yourself, you’re not alone. There are anonymous hotlines to call. is a great resource. Suicide is not the answer; it only leads to more questions. It hurts other people, maybe even people you’ve never met. It leaves a hole behind that no one else can quite fill.


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