I�m glad it�s Friday. I�ve been fighting a black mood all week, darn it. It descended on me slowly, and I didn�t even know it until I was already down, feeling bad, feeling sad. What triggered this, I wonder?
I think it was the disappointment from not being able to go to Kansas last weekend. I have a hard time masking when I feel dejected because the sadness wells up in me like a tidal wave. I�m so much like a little kid when I�m sad.
And then I cry. And I get depressed. Then, I eat like a pig to make myself feel better. Food makes me feel better. How very sad.
I cried because I really wanted to go meet my brothers and it didn�t happen. Mr. Sweatpants did let me down, but I don�t think he really thought it through. He was thinking about his marathon. He�s done a lot of good things for me; I guess I can let that one go, this one time.
He put himself first for once, and I didn�t like it.
And then I get depressed. I�m down a bit lately. I struggled with this awful depression a lot this week. I�m on medicine, but my doctor and I have only worked up to half the dose, which is 5 mg�s. So, I�m still going to have my off days. They just won�t be as bad as before.
Grrr!
It seems every day that passes, the more irritated I get at having to wait 7 months to find out if my mother�s killer, Rodney A-Hole L, is going to walk free. I know he�s guilty, the Circuit Attorney knows he�s guilty, but the Justice Department doesn�t. It fills me with such terror and anger that I shake all over. I�m afraid of the rage I feel.
A rage where I know that if presented to the opportunity, I�d probably choke the life out of him.
And I�d feel no better.
I know this DNA review is what triggered my manic/depressed episodes this year.
Before this year, I was just a very depressed person with a few manic episodes a year, which manifested in wild shopping sprees and an occasional outburst.
Now, this year, I�ve swung back and forth like a big monkey on my own personal pendulum, feeling fine one day, ecstatic the next, only to be severely depressed soon after. I didn�t do anything wrong, and yet I feel that my brain is replaying this scene over and over in my head. I feel like that�s the punishment I get for surviving. My mom is never truly gone; she�s just being killed over and over again. When is it enough?
I want her to quit screaming and crying for help. I want her to be at peace. I want to be at peace. I can�t help but feel she�s still fighting for her life, trying to get away from that mad man with the big butcher knife. The bloody scene replays itself over and over.
I�m sorry, I know that�s harsh, but it�s true.
I�m so mad at the Justice Department that I could just scream. Nothing, I�ve heard nothing. Back at the end of October we found out that they had not begun to test the DNA evidence. It�s so irritating because we were told it would be six weeks back in June.
Please stop lying to me. I just want this to be over with. Please? It hurts me to think about this everyday. I want to stop, but I can�t.
What can I do but wait?
I feel like I�m the one waiting to be hanged here, not that murderous pig Rodney. He gets off on any attention he gets. So I�m sure he has lots of people feeling sorry for him and believing the filthy lies he spews, especially his family. I feel sorry for them sometimes. It can�t feel good to say your �brother�, �uncle�, �stepfather�s in prison for killing a woman and savaging her little children.
He�s good. A bit smooth. I can also see the reason my mom talked to him in the first place. He was charmingly eccentric. Rodney was like a shiny objects; he entranced you.
This was a dangerous man, but mama was too close to see it, too blinded by his suave persona, to see this.
He swept her off her feet for a bit. Now, it comes across as calculating sugarcoated deception. Not many people are buying it anymore.
She was sucked in, and then, too late, learned there was something alarmingly off and very wrong with him. It was too late. He was latched onto her and began watching her, calling her, following her.
It was all she wrote.
What do you think? I�ve been thinking about checking into hypnotherapy. I�ve not made peace with this, and it�s killing me. I can�t move on with my life, sometimes I feel like it�s always April 27th, 1982. I�m stuck in my own twilight zone. It�s lonely here.
I don�t always plan to be sad and depressed. I want to really live life with little fear. I�m so afraid of so many things. People don�t know that about me, but I have a lot of fears. They seem quite real to me but appear rather ridiculous to others. Highways, doctors, dentists, strangers, crowds, death. I could go on. I mean, I�m not obsessive compulsive about it, but I do avoid those things like the plague if I can, always being careful not to get myself into a situation where I could be scared. I hate being scared, because I get angry. When I�m angry, I�m a different person. A defensive, hateful person. I don�t want to be like that. Scared and angry is not a good combination.
You know what�s the scariest thing for me about all of this? Being diagnosed with such a serious mental illness and knowing you did nothing to bring it on. It was just your brain�s way of responding to scary things. You are saddled with having to apologize for and sometimes mask your problem because you�re afraid people will judge you. It feels like I was victimized again when I found out I�m bipolar.
For what that man did to my brain, I will never forgive him. He screwed my head up royally because he was mad and obsessed and thought he could play God.
Girls, if you�re dealing with a stalker, don�t downplay it. Document and report it. These people just get angrier every day that they are focused on you, and then, without much warning, they do horrible things like what happened to me.
Everybody thought Rodney was a harmless nice guy. Look what he did. I wish someone would�ve taken it seriously. Don�t you be like my family was. Indifference can get you hurt or killed. There is a time for pride, and there�s a time for prudence. It�s time for prudence when it comes to your personal safety. Be wise. You can preserve your life, but it may take some work. Don�t let someone like Rodney hurt you; please don�t take chances with something so precious as your life.
Please.
Cinders is coming out today to pick Jackie up for the weekend. I know that I still have issues with her, but just talking to her makes me feel incredibly guilty for what I�m thinking about her. I guess I may never figure her or her motives out.
On one hand, I know she really does love me and wants to me to succeed so that Jackie and I have a good life. I think she wants me to cope with and treat my bipolar, because I�m sure that I�ve appeared to be one pathetic and sick individual on more than one occasion and it�s sad to watch.
On the other, I can�t help but feel that in some way she secretly wants to see me fail so that she could be right about me. Paranoid, you think? I feel she thinks I should suck up to her forever for giving her a hard time so many years ago and she might even feel entitled to my money or time for it. She�s taken advantage of me more than a few times over the past years. She plays the guilt card on me, and I feel so bad that I do whatever she wants. I have to stop that cycle.
Sometimes, I wish I could just take people at face value instead of always reading into everything. Please forgive me if I�m subjected you to that scrutiny. It�s my way. I�m working on changing that.
I sometimes want to go back to the na�ve Missy who would rather see the good in someone than the bad, who would rather believe that a person does things for love than ulterior motives. Life was a lot simpler when I was a dimwit.
I�ve recently thought back over the past year and realized that I often have little mini �obsessions� with people in my life where I get angry with them. I get mad because maybe I feel they�ve been less than understanding or they haven�t, in my opinion, been there for me, when in fact, they were there in the only way they knew how.
My obsessions range from my attacker (and that has stayed consistent over the entire year) but also Uranus, Cinders, Lisa,
Doug aka Mr. Moody, Mr. Sweatpants and sometimes my sister Melinda. I don�t know why I do this. I guess that because I�ve always had to suppress my feelings over the years, I don�t know if it�s normal to get mad at people the way I do. I don�t know if the anger is valid. I don�t know if it�s bipolar, or normal. I have no idea.
I have no social skills. It�s embarrassing.
I have other obsessions: POW/MIA issues, children�s advocacy, victims advocacy, my book, domestic violence, and the Holocaust. Maybe these are just the things important to me, and maybe other people have their own special interests too. Maybe I�m not so weird after all.
I don�t collect coins or stamps; I collect issues.
Just a wee bit strange, eh?
********************************************************
I did something nice today. This is my favorite holiday time of the year. Well, people always forget the guards here at Christmas time. I try to remember them, so I bought some Girl Scout Peanuts for them. I presented the two boxes to them, and when I walked by later, I noticed them eating them. Poor guys must�ve needed a snack.
It was a little thing, but I truly believe that we can touch other people every day. Maybe a little unexpected courtesy. It ripples, trust me.
You will feel like a much better person if you just take a minute or two out of every day to be kind to people. It doesn�t take much, but it has a wonderful effect.
12:52 - Friday, Dec. 05, 2003
Recent entries:
What you missed - January 16, 2012
%%older_entries%%From hell - October 19, 2010
%%older_entries%%a rant from a few weeks ago - August 17, 2010
%%older_entries%%Tired - June 20, 2010
%%older_entries%%A beautiful lie - March 11, 2010
%%older_entries%%
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