☆ comatised.com | february stars ★ » Depression

Antique Test Tubes

Echos — Tue, 07 Feb 2012 02:17:15 +0000

Maybe tomorrow I’ll be able to update on Nick’s return home and things going on here. Right now I have a horrible pain in my right leg down to my ankle (another blood clot?), and I cannot sit here very long. Enjoy my “lame and tacky” photography. Title courtesy of a failure.

The Bitter Return

Echos — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 04:11:19 +0000

My site was down for over 24 hours. While that’s not uncommon, I sent an email to my hosts asking what the problem was. I got no response. All of my files were in the FTP program, so I knew it wasn’t a crash, and it wasn’t a hack because my other site was down as well, and that site does not have any software installed on it. For a short time yesterday, the site was available. Then it would redirect to wilwheaton.net, as if he needed more hits. My payment is due this month, but not until the 26th, and I thought I should at least get a reply. Then my emails were coming through.Then my site was back up. I’m thinking of minimising my sites. That being said, crimsonsparkle.net will be moved over to my Dreamhost account as soon as I can get a few minutes time to switch everything over. My photo blog is on there, as well as my experimental sites and my husband’s page. Why not put the personal site on there as well? There’s no blog on crimsonsparkle.net anymore, and the archives that were there are now here, but it’s still a good place for my family to go to see photos and read about upcoming things in my life. This is the site they don’t know about. *grins*

Just incase this ever happens again, I have a couple of off server blogs, Recovering Beauty and Comatised, a tumblr, and several scene journals, gamine, stxr and Christina. What can I say? I love to write, I love to get feed back on my writing, and I always want that option there to write online if I need it. But I have been online for way over a decade, so I’ve gotten around some.

I am back on my Cymbalta. I don’t remember why I stopped taking it, but I did. I don’t know if I’m happy with being on it or not. I am also on another diabetic drug that I don’t know if I want to take. Low blood sugars scare me so much and I don’t know how many of them I can take. I was already put under ‘watch’ today, having to have a ‘baby sitter’ to go out and buy Valentine’s Day gifts and a little somethings for me. I picked up some illuminating foundation for my face that leaves a small shine of glitter after I put it on. It goes with the power foundation I bought last year. I now have the whole set! WooHoo! I picked up some Venom DooWop lip stain, and a tiny little tin of peppermint mints for Chloe. She wanted her own make up and lip stains, since I was getting some. I had to explain to her that like with her pierced ears, she has to wait to get to use make up. But then I ended up giving her a small make over in the hallway outside the candy store. Our skin tones are practically identical, and she acted as though she was a princes after the make over. I wish I would have thought to take pictures.

The last stop of the day was Walmart, so I could get more DVDs to record more movies for my mother. I picked up some candy for the family. Those large Carousel Lollipops. I gave the boys and Chloe each a Wild Cherry pop. I think the DVDs are going okay. I’m sleepy from my meds, so I haven’t checked on them. I should be napping. I have a lot to get done tomorrow.

The Lite that Has Lighted My Life

Echos — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 03:31:18 +0000

When you discover someone isn’t as sincere as they’ve always said they were, you start to wonder, and question everything they have ever told you. If you’re me, you will figure it out the hard way: At the moment that you need them, they are “busy, don’t call me” when you need confirmation where they are so that you’ll have somewhere to go then, they “forget” their own address. But I needed them now. Not in the morning, now. Not when things cool off, now. Not after the doctor’s appointment, now. Not when it’s convenient for them, now. Hey, they’ve always said that you are always welcome, right? I had no idea that the welcoming of friendship had blackout time slots like frequent flier miles. It’s only okay to want to make good on that when it’s convenient for them or when they need something from you (money, expensive items, etc). The only good thing that I can say that came out of yesterday was that the one person who really does care about me, and was not lying when he said he loved me, was able to talk me into not going ballistic and telling the Idiot Gang who someone was, before sealing my own fate. He didn’t say “don’t call me” his only reply was “Can was FT about this? I want to see you.” I want to see you. No one else has ever said anything like that to me. I have conversed with many people online before, and never has any of them asked to video chat with them before.

There I sat, tears streaming down my cheeks in the barely lit room, reading and highlighting pill books and doing bio-chemistry conversions. The master plan, so to say. He didn’t talk about what I was doing, or why I was in the state that I was in. The sheer urgency of needing a light at the end of the tunnel told him the bad parts of the story, so he didn’t have to ask. He convinced me to call a family member in Las Vegas, or that was their last known whereabouts eleven days ago or so. So I called. A familiar but unidentified voice was on the other end of the line. I asked for my family member and there was a pause then, “Oh, he’s already left. I’m sorry.” Before the “sorry” was ever there, I had fresh tears pooling in my eyes. The sure thing, the one who would care for me no matter what, was already gone on to who knows where. I had thrown out his number before hand, so I couldn’t call him.

Feeling trapped I said my thanks and was about to hang up with the man on the other end of the line offered to take a message. “Do you have [his] number?” I asked. “Of course. But I don’t know who you are, so I can’t give it to you. It’s not my place,” he replied. I felt somewhat relieved. While I was giving the info to him via a speaker phone, my friend James was telling me things through FB to ask. Under any other circumstances, it would have been pretty funny. The guy on the phone asked me who was there, and I said I was chatting with someone through a video, and he replied, “You’re not crazy love, I can hear him too.” I had a feeling of who I had on the line, but I had to ask, and I was right. I felt a little embarrassed about calling his room, upset and thinking horrible thoughts, but I wanted out so badly. We finished up the call, he wished me well, I thanked him, and returned to my video chat. James hit the nail on the head when he asked me who it was by name. I saw his eyes light up. “Why don’t you go live with him! And bring me with you?!” Another thing that would have been funny under different circumstances.

I came to many conclusions last night and tonight. One of them is that I know who I can count on. I know who really loved me. The sad part is that I am not as smart as I thought I was. I thought I would never be taken in my another Roxanna again, and it’s very clear that I have been. She used to promise me hope of deliverance from my domestic violence situations, and then never fully able to go through with it. I didn’t need food. I didn’t need money. I needed companionship, someone to tell me that I was not alone. Someone to tell me that everything was going to be alright and that they were going to be there for me through it all. Looking back at those messages, I have to wonder if I was conversing with Roxanna again. Did she change her voice again? Where is she getting those devices? They all sound like different women, but they use the same sentence structures, same words, same phrases and life stories that she presented to me eleven and a half years ago. How does she keep fooling me off of the computer? Will she ever give up? What is so important that I have that she wants? If she just tells me, I will gladly give it to her for her to leave me alone forever. I am no longer even interested in keeping a record of her lies online anymore because I want her to leave me alone. I won’t even white knight for her future victims anymore. Discover the bitch like I did. Carry on the torch as I tried to. Just. Leave. Me. Alone!

In the mail this afternoon, I received a plane ticket to New Jersey. Do I want to go? Not especially. I can bring along the little ones, but only one carry on luggage each. The tickets are one way. There’s no turning back once I do go. I have faith in James, though. I know if I go to him, he will really be waiting for me at the Newark airport. He will really take me to his place. I won’t end up lost and wandering around alone somewhere down Texas way, with no way to get to even an enemy that I know down there. Not that they would help me, but it would be a familiar face. Maybe there’s a lesson to be learned from all of this, but I have to say that I should have learned it a long time ago when I first caught Janna in her lies and then caught Roxanna in similar lies. But I fell for it. Maybe it’s my weakness that every human has a heart and compassion for another human being in help, though I know many who have turned a blind eye to me since childhood.

James put a light at the end of the tunnel that I was in. I didn’t know if it was a train or the sunshine, but I could see a light and that was all I wanted to see. It was all I needed. I’m happy that he gave me that hope and didn’t just push me away when I reached out for help. Even if he had not sent me any tickets anywhere, and just conversed with me last night, not shooed me away because his mind and heart were on other things, I would have been just as grateful. I’m saddened a little that I did not marry James when I had the chance, but that’s just one of a thousand regrets that I am going to have to live with.

It Felt Like Springtime

Echos — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 00:07:20 +0000

It was beautiful out today. It felt like spring time in January. The wind was a little strong, but I loved it anyway.

I didn’t venture out, but stayed inside with the windows and doors open, letting the warm breeze sweep though the house, cleaning out the dirty air, and replacing it with fresh air. The zing zing made working on anything a little harder. I feel like my foot is swollen, but I don’t believe it is.

With all the good things that happened to me today, I am still dreading next week and the start of dialysis. Dialysis is what caused the septic infection that eventually led to Jess’ death. His body couldn’t fight off the infection, so the doctor did not supply any antibiotics. They went ahead with the transplant, though. Smooth move, doc! There’s that tiny thought in t he back of my mind that I may or may not end up like Jess. In so much pain from sepsis that I swallow too much codine or too many Percs and I don’t wake up. Champ offered to bring me over some barbs. No thanks. I have enough to worry about, with how I could fight off the pain, should I get an infection.

All that being said, I am excited to get the first dialysis over with, because that means I can board the plane to the Golden Coast and nothing will stop me from being with my man and family. It’s summer in Australia right now. Where I am is about to get covered with several feet of snow. I still have plenty of time off, and nothing to occupy my mind. I have read Chloe every book that is appropriate for her, played dolls and video games with her, read just as many books to the boys, and played hide and seek with them, letting them win a few times, of course, that the three kids are tired of playing. Ashe asked me if I was going to start dinner soon because he wanted his supper and to go to bed! How many other people have the luxury of their four year old asking them for bedtime?! Didn’t think so.

I myself am going stir crazy. I finished my spiral notebook that I started back in October, I started a new journal, and even ordered a new one from Amazon. I’ve done all I can do with this site and the design. I have looked through more layouts, chosen one for March, and then I actually turn off my computer. I have watched every single show on cable in HD several times over. I am bored with everything. Bored and brilliant is a really bad combination. When I get those two together, I usually end up having a seizure and wake up sucking some stranger’s cock in the men’s room of the Cherry pub, stoned off my ass on a narcotic or two, in the early stages of alcohol poisoning, only to stagger out and be informed by Champ that I had a fourth man who wanted to take a turn. Whoa. I have called all the friends I have numbers for. I brushed the dog. The kitchen is spotless. I have an open bottle of Jack Daniels here, and I have had several drinks from it. Oh downward spiral, take me on another magic carpet ride…

Nick finally called me last night. He said they weren’t going to take me out of the filming. I was secretly relieved. I really wanted to work on that with him. The director is just going to shoot some other scenes that do not include me. I really want to go back to the gardens there in Sydney. I want to relive the beautiful flowery trails, collect wildflowers and have them pressed and made into perfume. That’s always been a favourite thing for me to do in Australia. I want to make a bottle for my friend Mandy, too. I hope she likes it!

While I was going through my meds this morning, I noticed that my fentanyl was gone. A whole five patches. I found out that my loving mother gave them to her drug addicted sister because she “needed them more than I did”. What? Really? All that is wrong with my aunt is she’s a chronic drug abuser. I really have a broken back and tumors that are causing me horrible pain. After the argument, I locked my med box in the trunk in the closet. Double locked, I might add. Let’s see anyone break into that! She started to tell me that maybe I should move out and earn my own money for my medicine myself. What kind of a selfish bitch was I to totally rely on my husband to work and support me and my ‘drug habit’ I had because of my cancer diagnosis. Wow. I’m not allowed to rely on my husband to buy my meds and work to support the household? I should move out of my own home? What the hell is wrong with her family!

That trip cannot get here fast enough. Have a great rest of the weekend, everyone! I have some pictures to upload after a while from when I tore apart my TimeCapsule and old iMac and harvested their drives. Now if I can only get some USB cords and connect them, I can get my data back. I’ll be so glad to get it, too. Never ever rely on media that you cannot connect to your main computer. I learned that the hard way.

I’m off to finish the bottle of Jack Daniels!

The Golden Coast

Echos — Fri, 20 Jan 2012 23:03:41 +0000

I was offered a better position at work. Giving small lectures, making copies, that kind of thing. No more assembling computers and terrorising the students in the med lab. *grins*

Actually, I’m not that much happier. I am not motivated to do anything other than lounge around my bed and watch the world go by through my green box window. I was supposed to be on the Golden Coast today. I was supposed to start filming. I was supposed to be experiencing the Sydney summer sunshine. Yet here I am in a cold, smoggy city. There’s plenty for me to do, but I have no ambition to do it. The Golden Coast was supposed to be my get away.

I did go with Nick to the airport, something I have not done in a long time. We were late to the gates, and I secretly hoped he would miss his flight, but the piolet was late as well, and there we were. I stayed too long in the airport. I didn’t just watch the plane disappear into the smoggy, gray, cold sky. I stood there in anticipation that it would come back. That there was something wrong and the piolet would have to come back. But after three hours, it was clear the plane was not coming back. Walking back to the entrance, I saw my cab had already gone on. Might as well. I didn’t want to ride with myself, either.

I kept trying to cheer myself up. I kept telling myself that we could appeal the case and that all would be right in our world. Come a week from Saturday, I would be on the Golden Coast as well. The warm sea water, the bright sunshine, the city in bloom. Best of all, no pills. No one to tell me that they wanted to intentionally trigger me “just to see what happens.” No more worrying about who I was going to accidentally offend next. Chloe thought she was going today as well. She was pretty upset when we made her go to school this morning. I was just as upset as I walked in the University and began my work for the day. I felt all over that this isn’t right. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. I haven’t let my phone out of my sight, for fear that Nick is going to call and I will miss his call. He promised to call me as soon as his plane landed. That was nearly twelve hours ago. I sometimes wonder if he forgot about me?

I played the two new songs over and over on my phone as I went through the motions of work. Carl made some smart-assed remarks to me and I barely batted an eye. Normally, I would engage in his torment and tell him what I thought of him. But this time, I let it go. I let many things go when I let go of Nick this morning.

It shouldn’t have to be this way.

New Equipment Lost Case

Echos — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 22:36:52 +0000

We got some new equipment for the cable. A new box, a new battery-operated modem, and a new phone line. I am thinking of giving the number to those who want to call us, because we can’t make long distance calls. I wanted this stuff, so I have to be responsible for the bill.

I got a letter from my lawyer telling me that we had lost the case, but we’re going to appeal. Like a dumbass, I left the letter out and Nick found it. This really upset Nick. He went so far as to say that he wasn’t going to the Golden Coast tomorrow. Wait. That’s tomorrow? I had completely forgotten. I then had to break the news to him that I couldn’t make it until Saturday of next week. Of course he wanted to know why. I said I had appointments that had come up, and he pleaded that we had made plans to go to the Golden Coast months ago. I agreed, but if I miss this appointment, the other party in our case may be able to win by default. I didn’t go into too much details. By this time Nick was in tears, and I was the Bad One. I am still gathering information, if not for myself, than for the sake of having these therapies go as smoothly as possible. I feel if I don’t piss them off I can stay home for the majority of the testing.

All week has been strange. Nick wrote this really awful song, more of an eulogy to me, than a song, and it bothered me. Many things about this week has bothered me. Group therapy bothered me. NA bothered me. Listening to Sister Rose tell me how Chloe is trying to dig her earrings out bothered me. I don’t want to go through with this whole therapy thing again, because the last time I went, it did not help me. I know what’s wrong. I have PTSD and I live with an abusive person, unable to live my life the way I really want to. My best friend is dead and I spend hours after work at his grave. None of this is healthy, but it’s what I do. It’s part of who I am. It’s something I have never had to deal with before. I know that I am acting out again, and that worries me. I see changes in me that I never thought I would have to see before. Whether they are positive changes or not, I am unsure. Time will tell.

Echos in the Sounds of Silence

Echos — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 04:43:06 +0000

There are changes around. I’m Echos now. I identify with Echos the nymph. You might know me by some other name. I removed my pages here. I just want to get back to writing and having a reason to write. Writing heals my heart.

My heart needs to heal. These days I ignore it. That isn’t good.

I’ll re-write my pages some day. Not tonight. My back is hurting, Nick won’t let me have any of my meds, I ran off the social worker who came beating on our door, and I’m still worked up over that. You don’t just come into my house and throw around your weight and tell me what I can and cannot legally have here. All the medicines I have are 100% legal prescriptions. It’s hard to abuse a skin patch or time released capsule. I threw his damned bottle of psychotrophic drugs at him as he was ducking out of the house. Shit just got real on this page, and I’d like to keep things on a down low, least my mother’s sister is reading and printing what I have written here.

With my pages gone, I have the time, the encouragement to make something better. The title card isn’t misspelled, it’s a play on words. Get it? No? Well, ok.

Nick and I chowed down on these Mardi Gras cookies from Merritt’s. I want more, but I can’t have anymore until tomorrow. Get some! They come in green, purple and yellow! And they are delicious.

blog feeds: Here There

Spare A Kidney ?

Echos — Sun, 15 Jan 2012 01:17:27 +0000

Well, it’s finally happened. Come Monday I am going to be briefed on dialysis and then scheduled for my first trip some time next week. The whole idea depresses me like I have never been depressed before. Why is this happening? I have asked that question to myself many times. While I know why it happened, biologically and chemically, it was only a percentage that I was in, and the majority of this not happening was on my side. Yet it happened anyway.

My (asshole!) doctor wanted to blame the chemicals that I work with. They can cause severe kidney damage. Sure. If I had worked there for fifty years. He then blames the metformin that I have been on for the past four years. Well, he wanted me to take it because it causes weight loss. He also told me there were no horribly wrong side effects. Um, sure. See, I knew better. If I were an everyday person I could have a lawsuit against him at the moment, but as a bio-chemist, I knew the risks of taking the medicine and I still took it. Having my mother tell me that at 173 lbs, losing 30 lbs since Halloween night, made me less of an embarrassment to her. Of course she’s in her 60s and living off me, but I’m the embarrassment because I was a few pounds overweight. Technically for my height I wasn’t even obese, but I stopped eating, got depressed, and here I am. Though my loving doctor and mother want me down to 100 lbs even by summer. I was encouraged that I could do this. Ever see a 100 lb 6′ 1″ person? We don’t look good. We look like we survived the holocaust. We have no energy. Ten years ago I was down to 100 – 90 lbs and I looked like total shit. No tits. No energy. Constant pains. But damn, I wasn’t an embarrassment to my mother, her family, or my doctor. The people whom I should have truly been trying to please weren’t interested in my weight; I’ve always been perfect to them.

I was put on a double transplant list yesterday. Monday I pick up my pager to wait for the news that there is a kidney or lung (yes, those are fucked up too). I’m not sure if this will affect my trip to Sydney, or the trip to Las Vegas in March. I’ve already paid for my tickets and I want to go. My plane to Sydney is supposed to leave on Thursday morning and I return on Sunday the fifth. I had everything planned, from a new camera to a ton of GBs of space to take pictures and video. I even stocked up on spare batteries and a fast charger so I wouldn’t run out of juice on the trip. Then there’s my “artisan” make up because I was supposed to be a part of the filming we’re going to. I can’t get on camera with a dialysis cath in my arm with the bruises to go with it. This all has screwed up my entire pleasure in looking forward to the trip; I haven’t been to Australia for pleasure since 2003. Dennis was also looking forward to seeing DW again. I guess he can do that without me there, though. Nothing would be stopping him. I haven’t told anyone about this, other than posting it here, for people to sympathise with me over it. Let’s have that Pity Party for me!

On a lighter note, I have a couple of family members who are going to take blood tests and such to see if they match and I can get a kidney from them, possibly. I know my cousin BJ got tested. I’m not sure if I truly need my lung(s) replaced. That’s one of the things we’re going to discuss at the doctor’s office Monday afternoon.

Oh, and my TimeCapsule died and went to hell a week ago. I’ve gone through the motions of removing the hard drive in it (and have the pictures to prove it), and now I am waiting on my check to go into my card so I can get a cord for it. I have another TimeCapsule, but I can’t get the computer to recognise it. I hope that wasn’t the error with my older drive. After harvesting that drive, I feel as though I can harvest the drive from my old strawberry iMac, just to get the data off it. That would be pretty awesome if I could get that drive too. I may update next with pictures of me harvesting my TimeCapsule drive and the iMac drive, if I can get it out. Right now I have to sit at my desk and update, and that’s a bitch. I usually update from my bed while I’m watching TV. Not anymore! Not until I can figure out how to get that TimeCapsule working. Any suggestions? Advice on anything I’ve posted? Email me if you do. Or leave a comment. Whichever is good for you.

Don’t forget to add my feeds:

here, there, and facebook or just plain add me on facebook. I’ll love you forever!

It’s Not Writer’s Block

Echos — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 04:07:20 +0000

I had plans to post tonight. I would love more than to write about my experiences with working for the first time since December, and following up on my post about New York, with some Christmas pictures, write about the next up-coming trip in a few weeks, but my heart just can’t do it tonight. I just can’t. I wish I could go into why this is, rather than pussy-foot around the reasons, but believe me, they are good reasons, and some day I will be able to write about them openly and honestly, just not tonight. I have to let what I know and what I witnessed sink in. It’s just part of who I am. It’s job related, and it upset me dearly, but I will survive in the end. Some days, such as the job today that I finished, I wish I had never left my previous profession and was still passing meds and doing procedures. Life was simpler then. It didn’t involve an emotion-less task of playing in a freezer with a familiar human corpse.

It’s not that I’m not skilled at autopsies, nor do I dislike doing them. Nothing satisfies my curiosity than finding out why or how someone died, but there comes a time when you want to draw a line on what corpse you have to slice up, and unfortunately, in my profession, I do not get that option. It was “do it or lose your license”. Nice people. Half my crew chickened out at the last moment, but that didn’t phase me at all. I’d prefer to do the operation on my own; nothing distracts me more than wondering if someone else has found something I’ve possibly missed in the micro-alleys of the human body. I just hope those that chose to run don’t think they one upped me.

I finished the job, kept my license with flying colours, and then came home to take a bath, wishing the pain and shock would run down the drain with with soapy water. It’s not that easy. It never is.

Okay. That’s all I can blog tonight. Till we meet again!

The Colours of My Life

Echos — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 22:29:49 +0000

Hope you guys like the new layout! I certainly do. Looks a tad more professional. I’m going to go lay down before this seizure hits full

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Keep watching the skies! Santa’s bound to be out there somewhere!