some nights

some nights i really just cant be helped

and for that, i’m sorry. 


That Green-Eyed Monster

Interesting thing about humans…we cannot understand why we are jealous creatures until we realise what we have to lose. Once we have everything, and we understand that we could lose it all, we feel we must work hard to keep what we have worked so hard for. 

Disney Love

I love you…
Like Pooh loves ‘hunny.’
Like Tigger loves to bounce.
Like Owl loves being a pretentious douche.

I love you…
Like Pocahontas loves her homeland.
Like Meeko loves to steal biscuits from John Smith.
Like Flit loves to be bossy.

I love you…
Like Marlin loves Nemo.
Like Dory loves to speak whale.
Like Nigel loves to be all up in the dentist’s business.

I love you…
Like Belle loves to read.
Like Beast loves Belle.
Like Gaston loves himself.

I love you…
Like Jasmine loves Aladdin.
Like Abu loves to eat.
Like Genie loves to shape-shift.

I love you…
Like Mary Poppins loves Bert.
Like Winifred loves her feminist group.
Like Mr. Banks loved working at the bank.

I love you…
Like I love Disney…
And with no exceptions.

I love you…
Like Disney taught me how to love.


I want to be able to consider myself an artist.
Desperately, I need validation that I am good at something.
Art comes in many forms…painting…drawing…writing…musicianship…any of that, and more.I can’t paint, even with watercolors.
I can only draw anthropomorphic Disney characters, and I can only do that with a most sincere form of mediocrity.
My writing has just sucked lately. I have no inspiration. (That upsets me most, because I was doing so well.)
I was in band in high school, and I loved that. I played the flute and it was the best time of my life. I left my flute at home when I moved out, though, and the fact that I live in an apartment now would limit my playability now anyway.

I just…I crave the feeling of creating art…and I cannot attain that, no matter how hard I try.

I Want You…

To be the one I still find next to me in bed in 15 years when I roll over at 2am because I can’t sleep.
To be the one who kisses my hair and tells me goodbye if you have to leave before I wake.
To be the one to whom I take all the worries and thoughts of the day and helps me sort them into logical ideas, squashing the worries and building up the good things.
To be there to catch me when I fall, both literally and figuratively.
To be the one who knows what’s wrong before asking the question, and who can soothe me with a hug and a forehead kiss.
To be the one who’s there for the more in our lives.
To just keep loving me.


I work at a call center for a home shopping network, and every now and then, I get callers who have terribly sad stories that they feel that they ought to tell. Whether it is because they can’t handle the sadness alone, they don’t have anyone at home with whom to share their story, or they just feel compelled to chat with a stranger about something that may be bothering them, I know not. Regardless, I always listen to what they have to say, and tonight I recieved a particularly saddening call. This woman, Ms. M, asked me to be patient with her, as she is currently on medication that causes “manic speaking,” which, put simply, means that she will continue to talk and talk without really realizing what she’s doing. (Unfortunately for me, that meant a significant raise on my average call handling time.) But alas, I digress. Ms. M told me, in the midst of her order, that she lost her mother recently, with whom she was very close, and then her brother shortly after. She then proceeded to tell me that she is married to a man who holds her in low esteem and who told her mere days after burying her mother that she was ‘pathetic’ and ‘needed to get over herself.’
My point to recounting this poor woman’s recent life stories is that I now feel as though my problems are minute compared to what others go through, and, despite the stories she told me, this woman was relatively upbeat. I suppose how we deal with our problems in life is about our perspective. If we focus on the negatives in life, there is no way that we can help ourselves out of the holes we dig.
I’m going to be working on this myself as I continue to help myself get ‘better.’


Today I’m in what I liken to a haze…but instead of mental, it’s an emotional haze. I’m not really sure how I feel about things right now. It’s like….purgatory. You’re in some kind of transitional place before it’s decided what’s to be done with you. This isn’t quite apathy, because I care enough to try to understand what is going on. I suppose I’ll just have to see what the day brings me. 


I do feel a bit better now. I’m worried that this is a temporary ‘up,’ though, but I desperately want it to be at least semi-permanent. I know that I am in a vulnerable stage in my life-I just recently moved out of my parents’ house and in with Boyfriend, I’m only working part-time and I have a bunch of bills that need to be paid. The way I’ve been feeling lately has not helped me deal with the stress, which, in turn, stresses me out further. I have a lot riding on a schedule bid at work-that’s where they gave us a list of schedules and asked us to figure out which ones would suck the least for us. If I get a full-time schedule, I won’t be as stressed, and therefore less likely to have to deal with the symptoms of my depression. Continuing in a part-time position wouldn’t be the end of the world, but I’m hoping <put hope in one hand, shit in the other…which fills up faster?> that the schedule gods take pity on me and let me have a good one. /sigh. We’ll see. 


Apathy is neither a strange nor foreign concept to most people. All of us, at one point or another, have probably experienced a time period where we just could not care less about the events that were going on around us. 
But apathy can be a weird feeling…like déjà vu or an out-of-body experience. At least in my experience, when I start to feel the apathy creeping back, it’s like I can see myself not caring, which makes me want to care, but I’m so hell-bent on not caring because me caring hurts too much…it’s a strange cycle. After I go through the care/no care cycle regarding the important things, I start to care too much about things that don’t matter. For example, yesterday I was preparing to go to work, and instead of my normal routine of showering and throwing on some jeans and a blouse, brushing my hair, and going pretty much as-is, I spent 35 minutes showering, shaving, and putting on a dress to go to my job at a CALL CENTRE. The only person who sees me there that I even care about them seeing me is Boyfriend, and he’s seen me look like dog shit run over by rush-hour traffic. The fact that I took the time to primp and prod myself is weird, because when I’m feeling ‘up,’ I never take that long to dress and ready myself for work. Maybe the reason is because I’m so busy still caring about the way others perceive me, and I don’t want them to notice that something is wrong with me. And that, ladies and gents, is just about the strangest part of it all. 
I’d like to take a minute to tell you all something an to apologise in advance. 
I’m only going to write when I’m feeling up to it. Right now, I’m somewhere in between the world of ‘up’ and ‘down,’ which is an okay time to write about how I’m feeling, as it is neutral ground. Thank you all for your support. 



Most of the time, I’m a pretty even-keeled, rational person. (Well, I try to be.) Lately, though, I’ve just been feeling this weird flux of emotion that I am neither prepared to nor care to deal with. I can be completely fine one minute, then irrationally sad the next. I can go from being excited about something to giving a total of anywhere from zero to negative fucks. Have you ever not cared so much that you gave a negative number of fucks about anything? Apathy, my friends. That is what this is.

When I’m not too busy not caring about things, you can find me feeling the aforementioned irrational sadness, which typically includes a frame-wracking bout of crying. Just absolute sadness, and for reasons that I have to make up as I go along so I don’t feel like a total asshole for being sad for no reason. I feel weak when I do this…this gods-awful weeping. I feel like there should be no reason for me to have to cry about nothing, but maybe that’s just a flaw.

I don’t know what to do anymore. “Boyfriend” is helpful…he recognizes when I’m in a mood and tries to cheer me up, but there’s only so much that can be done. (Although, he did bring home some sweets from the store the other day, which was just about the cutest thing ever and made my whole day.♥) I have no clue what I’m supposed to do to make myself un-apathetic, because I’m getting real tired of this shit.

On another, only-partially-related note: I’m going to try to start blogging more, and posting more things about day-to-day life. That’ll start…soon, I hope. When I don’t feel like I’ve been run over by a Mack truck.

Thanks for reading. With any luck, I’ll be back up and running soon. In the meantime, any suggestions for how I can dig myself out of this hole would be greatly appreciated and welcomed with major cyber hugs.