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  • edited.
  • I have had chronic pain of one sort or another for.. fifteen years now? -sigh- that sounds so long, and it really has been. Because of my medical fuckage, I like to say I've been on more narcotics than Steven Tyler and Keith Richards combined and my medical bills read something like the national debt. But I'm still here, and I'm still kicking.
  • I got my third nerve stimulator in 2015. This controls my chronic pain.
  • but its in there for life. For this reason, I cannot have MRIs and such. It would pull the stimulator out of my body. If you'd like to read exactly why I'm medically fucked, go read my list entitled "my medical shit."
  • I believe the word "love" is completely subjective, and nobody in the world can tell you you're not in love when you believe you are. That having been said, I also think people use the world "love" so flippantly. I was once asked if I thought it was a meaningless word. I don't, but I do think it's meaning has become clouded.
  • I fell in love for the first time when I was 14. I know; that's young. But I know it was love, because I would've done anything to make him happy, even if what made him happy wasn't me (although obviously I wanted it to be.) He didn't feel the same way. We stayed friends for a few more years, but there was always these black clouds hanging over each of us when we spoke or hung out. There was always something whispering in his ear: "She loves you" and in mine: "You loved him and it wasn't enough." Eventually, we'd stop being friends. I still don't really understand why we stopped, besides that his girlfriend didn't want me in the picture. Ces't la vie.
  • My first relationship came when I was 19. I fell fast and hard. He was one of the first guys to show an interest in me, but it was more than that. I fell in love with his imperfections. He was a scarred soul and I guess I'm kind of a sucker for those kind of people. I honestly can't remember how long we were together but he lived with me and my family for a long time after we stopped being boyfriend & girlfriend, purely because we were too kind to kick him to the curb - because nobody else would take him in. He's burnt every bridge he ever crossed. See, Rob was (and probably still is) a drug addict. He probably had a legitimate chronic pain problem like me but his addiction grew from using his own medicine in a recreational way. It snowballed until he was not just stealing the medicine I need to get through every day but things were magically disappearing, things easily pawned at the pawn shop within walking distance. Then he did the one thing I will never be able to forgive him for: he accidentally killed my cat. Samantha was my baby, my pink-pawed princess. By that point his addiction had gotten so bad he was purposely throwing himself down flights of stairs in a pitiful attempt at getting high in the ER. I can only guess this was what he went to do one morning and well... he crushed her. She was just there, and he fell on her. He woke me up freaking out and all I remember is how she looked. I try not to think of it, of how she looked in death, because she was the most beautiful cat in the world. But she must have died quickly because she was left in a fear-stricken look with her mouth open and her body tensed up. Its been years and I haven't gotten over it. I never will. I feel immense guilt that I didn't kick his ass out before then. That I wasn't there to protect her. That she was a casualty of his sickness. And that even after that, I was still too naive to realize he was such a drug addict he'd thrown himself down that flight of stairs on purpose. I had once been in love with him and I couldn't just throw him out. Looking back I wish I had. I wish I had beat the living shit out of him when I saw her little body forever frozen that way. I wish I'd made him pack up his shit and get the fuck out when I got her ashes back in a plain white box. I just had too much humanity left in me. Eventually he would leave but I'm positive he has no idea the lasting damage he did to me and my family. The insanity he led our lives into, the stress he put on everyone, especially my mom and step-dad. The trust issues we all continue to have. The fear he left in his wake. I hold a lot of resentment toward him but I know him well enough to know that he is a very, very miserable person and living equals suffering for him. I'm not a vindictive person by nature but that gives me some peace.
  • I've come to understand that music is always going to be more important to me than it will be to most anyone else I know. I've come to realize that that sky-high feeling I get when I hear a genius song is not what everyone feels when they hear it, and that when I share it with people, I shouldn't expect them to feel as strongly about it as I do.
  • The first band I found that I got into so heavily was the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Anthony Kiedis's lyrics (and his autobiography, Scar Tissue) gave me hope when the medical problems got to be too much.
  • The next band I connected with was Nirvana. I've very rarely felt such a connection to an artist as I did with Kurt Cobain. I identified with his battle with chronic stomach pain but I also felt a mystical connection, the type that leaves me thinking that its almost like I knew him in another life.
  • A few years later, I would find Everclear. A year after that, I found The Beatles and last year I found Incubus in the biggest way. They've all done their part to keep me from doing something drastic when I'm down, but I really credit my life to RHCP.
  • I find true crime fascinating, especially certain cases like the Manson murders, the West Memphis Three, and the Columbine shootings. I probably know more about Charles Manson than 80% of the population. xD I don't know why, but I find him fascinating. I don't look up to him like some people but I find his words, and his opinions, very interesting. I also want to know as much about Columbine as is possible. The book Columbine is amazing.
  • I've come to grips with the fact that I love the experience of getting high too much. I like all kinds of altered states. I try to watch what I do, and not let it become a habit. My favorite thing in the world to do, probably, beyond writing, reading and listening to music, is drink with my friends and laugh. I just love the relaxed atmosphere there is when everyone's drinking. I've never felt it anywhere else.
  • As I said, I've been on narcotic medication for half my life. Because of this, my father thinks that I am, without a doubt, a drug addict because of how long I've been on medications like Morphine and Oxycodone. I'm the only person who can make that judgment, in my opinion, and I don't believe I am an addict. I know my reasons for taking them: to try to combat the agonizing pain I feel. And I know that if I was taken off it, I'd be mentally fine. It's not my mind that begs for it; its my back, my body.
  • My parents are divorced. My dad won't speak to me as a result of the battle over child support; he believed he should've gotten off the hook; he believed he had no obligation or duty to pay any child support. He believes that because I'm over eighteen now, I should be supporting myself. He fails to realize that I am basically disabled: I am in so much pain on a daily basis that I can't even go to college, let alone hold down a job. Somehow, he convinces himself that he's not responsible and should never have been, even though he never paid child support from the time I was ten. He gave me $20 or $40 every time I saw him, or every other time. He did buy me rather expensive Christmas and birthday gifts, but he never helped take care of me like you're supposed to when you have a kid. I'll never understand him and he'll never understand me. I still pine for him, or for the father I used to have.
  • I have an older brother named Dustyn. He's probably the most intelligent person I know personally, with the possible exception of my ex-friend Ben. He lives and breathes history and movies. He's also a dry drunk with a dangerous anger problem. He has cut me out of his family's life and wants nothing to do with me. He wants me as far away from his children as possible and is seemingly forbidding even his wife from speaking to me. I've been dealing with this bullshit for more than two years now and I'm done with it. If he doesn't want me around, its his loss because nothing he can say or do will ever make me believe I'm a bad person. Unfortunately, my nephew and niece will also be cut off from me and I from them.
  • I adore animals. I used to want to be a veterinarian, but I quickly discovered that it would hurt me too much to have to put an animal to sleep, or even just to see them in pain. So now I just have a lot of pets. xD I've lost a lot of pets, most notably my dog Ace (my first pet), my baby girl Samantha, my hamsters (John, Paul, Cottonball, Ally and Choco) and my geckos Bob and Frank.
  • I believe highly in things of the paranormal kind. I believe completely in Ouija boards and spirits/ghosts. When I was living at my old house, my best friend and I talked to a spirit living in my house, a little girl. It's all very fascinating.
  • I have lost a lot of my friends over the last few years, most notably my friend Parisa. She and I were closer than I can tell you; we loved each other, or seemed to, more than I can comprehend myself. But one day she decided she was tired of it, and she stopped calling me. It was a long-distance friendship, so I had no option but to let her go. She got new friends, and so did I, but I never stop wondering where she is, what she's doing, and if she thinks of me like I think of her. I guess everybody has one of those - the person they'd do anything to connect with again. She's mine.
  • Writing is probably the best thing I do, and I say that in two ways: its the most fun and its the most positive. I mostly write poetry, but as of recently I've been branching out into short stories. I keep a blog and a journal as well, which helps keep my sanity.
  • My room never stays clean for more than a few days.
  • My grandpa is one of the most amazing people in the world, I think. He's been through so much, whether it be war, losing his wife to cancer, watching his kids make the wrong decisions, whatever - but he's still the nicest, most positive and sweetest man I know. He'd give you the shirt off his back and never expect anything in return. He's always given us money to keep us afloat in this world, and he never expected it back; he just expected our love back, which we gave to him. He's a very old man and one of my biggest fears is losing him. I know I will have to some day, and I know when he does go, he's going to heaven if there is one, but I know everyone, myself included, will fall apart when it happens. We all just love him too much. Even if he lived another 94 years, it wouldn't be enough for me.
  • I'm a little bit obsessed with the movie Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. I don't know why, but I am. I like to describe it as an acid trip from Hell that you can't get off of until the movie's over and its time. And I love it.
  • My heroes have really helped mold me into who I am today. Those people are: Bill Hicks, Frank Zappa, Hunter S. Thompson, Brandon Boyd, Anthony Kiedis, Mick Mars and my grandpa.
jan 18 2010 ∞
jan 21 2016 +
user picture Sky: Ah, what you say about the word love is exactly how I feel about it! I also share your connection to Kurt Cobain, but to be honest, I feel like I can't really figure out what it is about him that makes me feel so connected to him. Just his aura, I suppose. I also feel the same way about animals - I used to want to become a veterinarian too until I thought of everything I would have to see. We are very much alike. :) jan 18 2010
user picture emily.irene: That's awesome! I thought we were alike when I read your intro post on Xanga. :] I feel a huge connection to Kurt because he had chronic pain and depression, and he was such an amazing lyricist. And then, like you said, there was just an aura about him. When you watch videos of interviews with him, you can see how he lit up the room, even when he was feeling really low. jan 19 2010