I Want Your Horror

Nina says...

Despite quite desperate attempts to detest her... I seem to have caught a bit of Ga Ga fever. How disgusting.

Sparky says...

Oh what a lovely Saturday night it was.

I took shots of Jameson with one of my boys over facebook. ...over... FACEBOOK!

Parts of the night are missing.

I feel a wave of partying coming on. And I intend to ride it.

I'm A Rocket Man!

The Narrator says...

Sparky shifts her eyes from her dinner plate to the thirty guests that sit before her. Her audience. A quiet part of her has always prepared for this moment. It silently took notes over the years, hanging on moments that would be important later. Moments that are important tonight. She's ready to change a life or two.

She then looks to her right, at her father, the birthday boy. Her purpose.

Quickly, she decides not to look at him until she needs to.

Sparky says...

Holy fuckin' showtime! (...I hope this Susie Sunshine shit works.)

Watch my glitter fly, bitches. Prepare to get misty eyed.

Ahem!

"I am very proud to be here tonight. And to have the chance to tell you, and him, that my dad has always been my greatest teacher. Whether the lesson is big or small, I always listen carefully to what he has to say. In the end, he is usually right. He’s stubborn too. He won’t give up on me until I get it. I remember when I was younger he was helping me with my homework, I was learning fractions. Every time I got a problem right he jogged a lap around the living room. By the end of the night he was pretty tired, but I was a pro at fractions.

He’s taught me more than just fractions. He’s taught me that you should always be prepared for the worst case scenario. That having a sense of adventure will keep you young. And that the easiest way to bring meaning to life is to simply put someone else’s needs before your own. But I think the most important thing he will ever teach me is that it doesn’t matter where you’ve come from, who you once were, or what uncontrollable circumstance you may find yourself in. As long as you do the right things for the right reasons, and you always keep the faith, you can make something great of your life. You can be brilliant, as he is brilliant.

Here’s to you, Sir. Happy Birthday! It’s been a very well-earned sixty years."

Lacey says...

Cheers, daddy.

Detoxed

Lacey says...

Oh yes, that old familiar feeling. That scintillating sting. Pain.

I feel cozy again. Right as right can be...

I can dwell in this universe while I skip along to the beat of this broken body.

I think I will curl up with this carnage. This deterioration. This horrific reminder of how it will all end someday.

I feel home again. Back in that wide open space where my voice echoes. The place that few people visit because why would they? It's just me, myself, and I again in this dangerous land.

It feels oh so sadly meant to be.

Amanda says...

Drugs suck. Don't ever let any doctor tell you differently.

I'm completely off Baclofen. It feels amazingly awful. My mind is so much clearer. Even though the rest of me feels like shit. The detox has been rough. And I went into it almost completely blind. I had a really hard time finding information on what to expect. I realize now it's because most people who start using it never come off it again.

I had a migraine for a week straight, followed by constant back/shoulder/neck pain that I am still trying to deal with. Sitting still for a long period of time has become a challenge. Sleeping is almost impossible. Relaxation is a memory. I only seem to feel okay if I am moving. Therefore, my apartment looks lovely because what else is there to do at 2 in morning other than clean? I'm losing weight too. So detox isn't all bad.

For as long as I can remember people have asked me if I am in constant pain. My answer was no. I wonder if I couldn't feel it because I just didn't know any better. Ignorance is bliss.

It's No Serenade

Amanda says...

So I'm on Day 5 of my detoxification from Baclofen. In total it will take three weeks if everything goes according to plan. Today was the first morning I didn't wake up with a headache in a cold sweat, which was nice. But I am definitely feeling antsy. I have been cleaning everything!!! And thinking way too much.

My doctor was full of shit. She said it would be easy to come off this drug. I have only dropped one of three pills a day and I have felt like shit. I can't even imagine what I would be feeling if I had decided to quit cold turkey.

Nina says...

You know what, Sir Elton John, I'm so glad you are gay and therefore would most likely never write a song for me. Because I would be bitterly disappointed in you. This is by far one of the worst written songs ever. Why do people think it's so romantic?

Your Song

It's a little bit funny this feeling inside
I'm not one of those who can easily hide

(No shit, considering you sound like Captain Obvious.)
I don't have much money but boy if I did
I'd buy a big house where we both could live

(Shut the fuck up, I know your loaded.)

If I was a sculptor, but then again, no
Or a man who makes potions in a travelling show

(You're just a shitty artist. Period.)
I know it's not much but it's the best I can do
My gift is my song and this one's for you

(All I get is this shitty song? Seriously?)

And you can tell everybody this is your song

(Why the hell would I want to do that?)
It may be quite simple but now that it's done
I hope you don't mind

(I do mind, you narcissistic weirdo!)
I hope you don't mind that I put down in words
How wonderful life is while you're in the world

I sat on the roof and kicked off the moss

(And this concerns me how exactly...?)
Well a few of the verses well they've got me quite cross

(Maybe it's because you are just no good at this.)
But the sun's been quite kind while I wrote this song

(Again, why do I care?)
It's for people like you that keep it turned on

(Bitch, I always change the channel when this song comes on.)

So excuse me forgetting but these things I do
You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue

(So you're actually admitting you forgot what color my eyes are? Moron!)
Anyway the thing is what I really mean

(And you don't even care!)
Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen

(Ha, nice try, but you didn't save yourself, man.)

My White Flag Has Turned Black

***WARNING!!! THIS ENTRY IS FAIRLY PERSONAL AND CONTAINS SOME SERIOUS TMI. IT HAS BEEN WRITTEN MAINLY FOR PERSONAL RECORD, AND ON THE OFF CHANCE THAT SOMEONE READING THIS HAS ANY INTEREST IN MY COMPLICATED HEALTH SITUATION. BE PREPARED TO LEARN A BIT TOO MUCH ABOUT ME IF YOU CONTINUE.***

Amanda says...

So I have been taking the muscle relaxer Baclofen to help manage my migraines. And it has been quite effective. My headaches have been less frequent and fairly predictable. Wonderful, right? I should have done more research.

First of all, Baclofen causes insomnia. Ha, well there is one mystery solved. It's also the reason for this moment of "medical eureka." I feel like I haven't really slept in a year now, and there is only so much entertainment one can get from Facebook and Myspace before they turn to random research.

It was my random research that brought me to the interesting fact that Baclofen increases blood sugar levels. Guess what that can lead to... yeast infections. I have spent the last three months caught up in one of the most frustrating medical dilemmas of my life, a mysterious yeast infection with some ridiculous gusto to it. I have been tested several times for STDs, pregnancy, and hormonal imbalances, all coming up negative. I have tried every treatment available, even the last resort of Boric Acid capsules, which are just as painful and humiliating as they sound. Still, my infection persists. I have been to several doctors, wherein which I have learned firsthand that as a disabled young woman it can be extremely difficult to be properly treated for such a common problem since the first doctor I saw refused to examine me (and look me in the eye, I might add) saying it wasn't necessary for a proper diagnosis. Not to mention what it has done to my mental health, I feel disgusting.

Now I learn (on my own) that a simple blood sugar test and change of medication may be the answer to all of it. What the hell are any of these doctors good for? It's not like I have kept my Baclofen use a secret.

However, the truth is, it may not be a matter of just a simple medication change. Turns out Baclofen can be somewhat difficult to get off of once you have been taking it for a prolonged period of time. A prolonged period of time being a few months. I have been taking it for almost a year. You have to be tapered off the drug slowly, otherwise you can suffer severe withdrawal, the main symptoms being hallucinations that can borderline mania and/or seizures. Also severe muscle rigidity, particularly in patients with spastic diplegia. Oh goody.

Some other interesting information I found on Baclofen include studies that suggest it is not right for people with a history of mental illness as it can increase confusion, depersonalization, and depression. Perhaps this could explain my recently developed anxiety problem.

I suddenly find myself in what may be a complicated medical situation. All because I didn't take the time to research a pill before I started popping it and because I put too much faith in doctors who just don't take enough personal interest in me. But can I blame them? It's not like I'm an easy patient.

Then there is also the migraine problem. If I stop the medication, my migraines will come back full force. I will be debilitated 3-5 times a month. How the hell am I suppose to work? It's not like a I can keep Francis on a schedule.

Some days my life just sucks.

It [Was]n't Me

"My nightly bloodlust [has] overflowed into my days. I feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy. I think my mask of sanity is about to slip."

-Patrick Bateman, American Psycho

Lacey says...

I am so fucking sick of keeping it together. I am reaching that point where mania will take over and I will have an "episode." It's been a painfully long while since I've lost my mind.

Things will stop making sense. I will become emotion-- rage! Lots of rage!!! I'm sick of things being broken. And since I can't fix them, I will simply break more. Why not?

Imagine my mind is a ledge, lined with beautiful, crystal wine glasses. From afar a mysterious sniper is shooting them one by one. Complete silence and then BOOM! Shards fly and a once perfect glass is obliterated. It is a slow way to destroy a mind. I can't stand it. So instead of waiting for the sadistic sniper to finish his job, I would rather destroy the glasses all at once. Throwing them to the ground till it shimmers with the pieces of my sanity. At least I will have made the mess myself. And the destruction will be finished.

I need to fuck or fight. Or both. Yes yes, both. With blood, bruises, and broken bodies.

I need a victim.

Preferably not me.