Category Archives: Manic

So much on the inside

My mind races. It’s almost like I want to break out from behind these walls I’m in and yell “I’m here, I’m still here! Everything’s going to be ok!” But is It? Truly? I reach for the light, the fabled light at the end of this darkened tunnel. But I question if the tunnel was really ever that dark to begin with. 

So much stuff has happened as of late. There has been so many things set in motion that I feel like I can’t keep up. And as much as I try to for appearances sake, it is when I’m alone that I want to curl up and cry. But I don’t. Is it fear? Is it the fact that I’m not really sad? The fact that I have more under control than I realize? Or the fact that I am actually doing everything in my power to make it work.

But I don’t feel like I am. I feel like I can do so much more. Be do much more. I think to the past. To what things could have been different and then I know that I can’t let that keep holding me back from what’s going on right now. But something still feels off. Unrealistic expectations for a future is always dreamed of.

A marriage, more kids, a house with a back yard. Things I can’t only wish once upon a December. But reality, reality crashes down on me and I have to radically accept what I have tight now. Wonderful smart amazing kids, food, a house and a chance to a have a future. That has to be enough. 

Then, why the panic. Why the racing thoughts. Why the not sleeping. Could there be something I’m forgetting or leaving out. 

My chance to dream isn’t over yet. But I’ve forgotten to pick up my pen and write those dreams down. For too long my words have gone unspoken and I yearn for an output, a way to grab onto something bigger, something more.

This too will pass, I will survive, I will thrive. I will let must feel as much as I can and not judge it because it’s ok to just feel. I will not continue onto that extra dose of caffeine that has become to much. And I will keep believing in something more. Because I will never give up on my own varietals. Our truest hearts desire is only but a wish away. I believe that, always.

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Take back those words

Can we take back all the words that I have said that were cruel and unusual in the past 24 hours? Not just to others but you myself as well. Take back the pain, the hurt. The frustration , the tears. Can we hold on to the precious few moments that I felt like I was doing something of value instead of screwing up everything I set my mind, my hands, my eyes my heart to?

Can I know where the messages in my brain came that nothing was good enough. That all of a sudden I was this failure. Can you fix those short circuit ingredients wires and replace them in my head. Can you dry up the tears that fell from my cheeks as I cried over the fact that I wasn’t good enough for them, to cherish their laughter, to deserve their sticky kisses. Those thoughts don’t belong here anymore.

Long have I worked to prove to myself that I could make it through the hardships. Long have I toiled, re-education my brain to prove to myself I was worthy of everything I had put so much effort towards. But today…yesterday. feels like all that effort was in vain.

Black stormy clouds took over my head and down I sank. Clawing my way to some sense of peace. That I was going to be ok. To stop judging. To picking away at parts of myself that had scarred over. I struggled through the day just to fall into a restless sleep.

And upon awake the cloud not black but grey. Could I make it through. Would the sunshine and push away the sorrow that and stole my peace. I’m fighting. Fighting so hard. Counting the blessings.

Kids

Healthy

Writing

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Home

Food

Family

But I feel unworthy. Why. Why is the question. I have no answers. No answers but I’m pushing through. Just have to make it. Make it till Thierry smiles can chase the clouds away once more. I’ll get there.

So many changes. Changes provoking thoughts. Thoughts pushing me so hard. But my body isn’t ready. Rest. Rest. I will be strong enough to do what I have to. In time. Not all at once. Shhh. Rest now. I will get through this. I will get through

Sparkle thoughts

I’m ALLOWED to have a BAD day!

I’m just having a bad day. Isn’t a girl allowed to have a bad day? For no reason other than she woke up sad. There’s a lot if things going on and I’m having a bad day. I feel scared, alone, exhausted. I feel netvous anxious. I feel like the tears are coming from no where and I can’t explain them. You ask me why and I say I don’t know. I can’t tell you why I feel this way. I can tell you the kids are just fine. This has nothing to do with my miraculous little creatutes. This has nothing to do with their father. He’s alrite in my book too. 

This has to do with the fact that I feel so very alone. That words and memories and songs keep playing through my head like faded memories and I can’t make themstop. I can make them go away. That I’m fighting this battle, this amazing, fantastic journey and I’m doing it all alone. And yes I’m fucking proud of nyself. It has nothing to do with pride. It has to do with I wish I had someone to hold my hand. To tell me ill be ok. To hold me through my what if and im scareds. To tell me they were right there beside me all along and you know what I don’t. And I’m mad. And I’m sad. And yes I’m allowed to be sad. I’m allowed to want to curl up and be held and just worry for a little while. 

I have all these emotions. I’m feeling all these things. This year’s has been so hard and I’ve been through so much already. And yes this is my journey, my step towards a better me, a healthier me, a new life. But I’m fucking scared. I’m scared that this is how it with always be. An uphill battle. Me against the world. With nothing soft to come home to. I miss the soft. I want the other side of my bed to be warm. I want comfort in knowing my insides are loved as much as my outsides. I want my forever. I want to stop THINKING about it. It hurts. I’m tired of it hurting. The hurt springing frp. No where at random times. Random moments of goid, like in the shower when I’m peaceful and safe and the thought of a forever moment creeps up. Because I let my mind go a little to easy. I let the wall crash down. I let myself relax.

This is the person I don’t let you see. The girl behind the mask. The girl who still has the softness to her. The fear of letting the world in. The one that wants to be held. Craves to be cherished. The girl that sits, weeping in her parked car, at the edge of a park. Instead of going home to sit in her room. Because maybe I can get over this and still make something of my day. All I want to do is eat. And I can’t eat. I gave up that line of defense. 

I’m allowing myself this time to have a bad day. Because it’s ok for me to cry. It’s ok for me to want. It’s ok for me to feel. I just wish….wish I had the switch to make it all ok again.

Eliza Dushku is so hot

I had a long winded rant that I was going to go into, about life and why this week was going to be really stressful but I happen to be sitting in front of the TV and while the TV is generally not a distraction…Eliza Dushku sauntering on, during try-outs for Bring it On is just fucking distracting. Now I knew for a long time that I had weird feelings when it came to girls, that I wasn’t sure why I got that tingle in my belly when I had sleepovers just like when I played football with the boys but I never really thought of when I had a sexual awakening. Thinking about it now, I am not really sure I can pinpoint it, it had to have come sometime in high school, I mean that was when the experimentation (meaning kissing girls for fun and sport) really started. But Eliza Dushku…

I remember the first time I saw Faith on Buffy, there was something about the feisty, sparkly, sassy extra slayer that just got my juices flowing. Now, looking back on it I can totally tell you that I was highly attracted to her but then I think it was a mixture of that and wanting to be her. Which kind of ties into what I was thinking about before. What I have been thinking about for the past few days. What I want to be when I grow up. Now I am not still fantasizing about being Eliza Dushku…meeting her, yes but not being her. When I am talking about growing up, I am obviously and adult and I do realize that….and I am not talking about my career path. I am talking about the kind of person I want to see reflected back at me.

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I have taken time out in the past few days to reflect on things that have been going on around me, I have been told to take a deep breath and write what I am feeling if I come up to a blockage to write through it and keep writing till I felt comfortable. I fought against that notion until this very moment. I have only thought about writing for the past few days and here I am. Now all I have been feeling is that the winds of change are blowing and if I don’t put my umbrella in the draft I am going to miss my chance and life is going to start passing me by. I have been thinking about my plans for the future, for what life is going to be like in the next couple of months, weeks, days even. A lot of stuff is happening…So let’s catch up.

This week, the kiddos are gone on another mini vacay with their Nanny so I could get stuff done while they had fun. This week is looking towards being super stressful. Back into court with the ex, figuring out exactly what is going to happen with all kinds of custody things. Hoping it turns out fine but I feel like in some ways I am being set up. Seriously…who asks the main parent to pack specific full wardrobes for children for a ten-day vacation and returns the bags with the clothes untouched? Was it a test? T make sure they have clothes? My children are well taken care of, they are healthy, well fed, happy and well adjusted. They are going to be involved in music lessons, piano and violin, drama club, sports, gymnastics and Hebrew school this year. They have so much going on and I am not going to let ANYONE ruin that. So that is all going to be taken care of on Thursday, hopefully, it is all worked out amicably….Because I don’t want to have to go through a whole court battle, it won’t be ok for them and they are all that I care about.

After this mess is cleared up we continue to gear up for school, now it has hit me that I am really doing this on my own. Now I know I have been on my own for the past 7 months, trust me that hasn’t failed to fall on my shoulders but this is different. This feels new, like a new leaf, new responsibilities, and a whole new book. Maybe because it finally is a new year and as a Mom, the start of a new school year is the real beginning. Maybe because there are so many adventures on the horizon and I finally feel up to the task of doing it myself. Maybe because I have realized that I have the ability to do it on my own and it is actually a huge weight lifted off of my shoulders. Either way, the new school year is a big deal and that is approaching rapidly.

Also my house, I am rearranging, throwing out, reorganizing and getting rid of the old. I am done with things that have bad memory and juju attached to them. I want my kids to look at things and smile. I want to curl up in my bed and have it be my sanctuary because I am a fucking princess. I don’t need a prince to tell me that.

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Then we come to my surgery, as of the 26th I will be making my last appointment with my surgeon before we schedule my gastric sleeve surgery. I am totally excited and totally terrified all at the same time. I can’t wait to continue on my journey with a new tool in my bag that will help me become a new, healthy me. I am terrified because I have actually become half convinced that I will not recognize myself anymore. I have so many thoughts in my mind about what is going to happen with the surgery that I give myself a headache. I know it it is going to amazing and wonderful and incredible. I also know it is going to be a huge lifestyle change, it is going to be a whole new me and I have to accept the fact that I will look different and I will feel different and I will get different attention. I have to be ok with that. I think it is the different kind of attention. I don’t know what it will be if it is going to happen and that is the biggest part that scares me. I think I am scared people won’t love me for who I am anymore but for what is on the outside. But I shouldn’t worry about it so much because I still know who I am and I love that person….Are you still keeping up? I think I lost myself about a paragraph ago.

So ahem….now that we have caught up on what will be going on I will leave you with this. I have finally got the courage under my wings, and a voice whispering in my ear, and a foot kicking me in the ass to really get on board with my book project. It is still in the futzing around stages right now but I can tell you it is going to be amazing. I can also tell you that I have been working on my bariatric blog and that has been going pretty fucking well too. I am going to go back to watching Eliza Dushku shaking her ass…and I am going to pick out a whole new bedroom set while doing so. Because I am starting a whole new book and this sassy slayer gets to start shaking it in style too.

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Radical Acceptance

This is a topic we covered in depth at DBT today. It is a topic that comes up quite a bit in distress tolerance and one that is the hardest for me to grasp. Mind you I know exactly what it is, I know how to do it (in theory) and I know how it works. But fuck my life if it comes easily to me. I sit here listening to a playlist I made on Spotify for one of the many manuscripts I am writing and I have tears dripping down my cheeks. The only saving grace is that I already cried off all of my eyeliner in the last hour of the group, so I am not going to look like a raccoon after writing this. I am sitting here staring at my phone, not paying attention to the keys I am pressing, knowing I can just auto correct this in Grammarly and repeating to myself “Radical Acceptance Shaye, do NOT pick up that phone, don’t do it, you are stronger than this…”.

The principle of radical acceptance is that things happen in life that is painful, stressful, hurtful and sad and you just have to accept them. You accept that these things happen and move forward. You can’t change them, you can’t change the emotions they cause so you accept them for what they are and you go forward in your life. Easy right? For more things yes, yes they can be considered very easy. Sometimes, accepting things comes very easy to individuals and sometimes they are very hard. My therapist put it this way. There is a difference between pain and suffering. It is like stepping on a nail. You can feel the pain and take your foot off the nail and move on, or you can keep your foot on that nail and continue to feel the pain…THAT is suffering. The point of radical acceptance is to not let yourself suffer. I have radically accepted a lot of things in my life. But one thing, in particular, I have realized I have accepted but I am still suffering because my foot in some small way is still on that nail. That is why the tears fell from my eyes for an hour discussing this principle in the group. I have still not radically accepted the biggest change in my life. And I really want to but I don’t know how.

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I have radically accepted –

My diagnoses’ of BPD, BPII and all the fun stuff that comes with it

My 5 autoimmune diseases

My divorce from my ex-husband

My inability to lose weight without a medical intervention

The fact that my miscarriages were NOT my fault

The death of people I have loved so much

I have accepted –

That I have lost the one person I have truly loved

 

I am having trouble radically accepting the three facts above. I having trouble with accepting them because I don’t know if any of what happened between us was real. I can not radically accept any of those emotions because I don’t know if anything he said was true. I don’t know if he meant all those pretty words that came out of his mouth. I know he has said them to her and who knows if he said them before me. He said forever and always and he didn’t mean them or he would still be around. He promised me family and children but that’s out the window too. They say karma’s a bitch and he hurt me so he will be hurt. But I don’t want him hurt, and if I got hurt that badly who the hell did I piss off in order for me to be hurt that badly in the first place? Is anything I am saying make sense or am I snowballing down a treacherous slope? The thing is I am healing, I have moved past it, but a song, a word, a memory creeps in and I doubt the things that happened. I doubt that the year of my life made any impact on anyone except my children and I. Why bother wasting a year of your life if you never meant the words. You moved on from the pain like you felt no pain. You left all the pain for me to feel while you can go and give someone else the promise of forever when you have known them not even a fraction of the time you knew me. And you said I gave you the meaning of love. And what sucks is that I don’t know if anything you said was real. Except goodbye. I know that was real. And you couldn’t even say goodbye, it was just silence. With an apology to someone else. I can’t radically accept something that has no ending, no closure. It was all a fantastical daydream that turned into a nightmare. And it left me with the one thing that I never have. Regret. I regret it and you How am I supposed to radically accept regret.fc0fc5fe5fe5e5cf5b6cbc764815eaa7

I hope I understand it soon. I hope I can radically accept it soon. I hope boxing the rest of it up and getting it out my house helps. The memories, the pictures, the pieces of our handfasting, the pieces of your mother that you left with me…Why? Why keep what was a lie? One big dream. One last nightmare. Faerietale suicide.

 

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Searching for my muse

Have you seen her? Every time she strikes me it seems to be at the worst possible time. I could be in the middle of the highway going 70 (yes it’s legal) or in the middle of the shower. I could be lying down in bed with a migraine or trying to sing the kids to sleep. She whacks me over the head with her insanely heavy sledgehammer of glitter and whispers words in my ears and I can’t get to a media quick enough to get them down. Or she sends one train of though crashing onto the track of another and it causes all the words to melt and crash and snowball and I don’t know what I am thinking anymore. I want to scream. I want to yell. I want to cry. I want to shout from the rooftops. I go to the bookstores and read the backs of the novels. I could do that. I know I can. But my muse, she is elusive. She gives me ideas but does not let me finish the thought. She keeps that wall up in my head and won’t let it go down. She defines me. I just want to write and write and write. And the stream of thought can’t be done. You give me a prompt, or inspiration, or let me collaborate and we can make big things. But sit me alone in front of a computer screen an the cursor continues to blink at me. It seems to flicker faster, angrier, because she sits there, sipping tea. She smirks at me, raises her eyebrow, challenges me to attack….but I am at a loss for words.

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Bandaids

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Raw edges of a soul torn open, yet the wound will never heal if you keep touching the edges. Flashes if a past, of friendships long forgotten, of family so dear, stitched up inside you so tight. Until the day….until the day you switch gets flipped and without knowing it those wounds are torn open. Years of blame, guilt, regret. Years of. Instability, worthlessness, invalidation come pouring out.

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And it isn’t till you catch yourself staring at the label on a valium bottle that you realize your face if soaking wet and your curled under a blanket. It isn’t until your wrists at skinned raw and blood is dripping down your fingers that you think maybe you need stronger duct tape to hold your wounds shut. You watch your shattered pieces gather themselves with pieces of glitter and glue trying to rebuild itself into some semblance of what it once was.

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But a bandaid can’t fix a shattered soul, a valium coma can’t make you survive the day and blood is better inside then out.

So take a deep breath and grab yourself some glitter. You will survive. I believe in you.

Shaye
Xoxo

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Two Weeks. Two Lives. Two Masks.

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I wear two masks constantly. Day in and day out and I only take them off to breathe when the chance arises. That chance isn’t often and when I can breathe it isn’t pretty, relaxing or fun. I have a public mask you see. For the day to day, a super mom personal to keep up with the masses, the strangers, the parents at school and those who only seem me through a porthole in the side of my life boat.

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Then there is the mask in private. The one who play her cards close but wears her heart on her sleeve. This mask is thinner, more translucent, closer to me. But I hold things behind it very few can see. I’ve only let a few see me with out it.

I’ve come to realization that under these masks I’m lost. The sight isn’t pretty, there are tear stained cheeks. There’s a girl who wants everyone to be happy. There’s a girl that needs to be reassured she is loved.

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The past two weeks were rough. Masks ripped off. Sea salt scrubbed in the woulds. I Thought Of Self garm. I would never do it because of my sprites but I just wanted to hear that people still wanted ME around. Not the kids but ME. That’s all I wanted to hear.

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As the weeks of pain and heart break subsided I felt better. Be it my meds, my therapy ir just thinking it through I’m done with my masks. I wish I had a sledgehammer to break them.

I’m tired of hiding me. I’m tired of my two seperate lives. I’ve given up the drama and negativity. I am cleansing everything because what I’m building is fragile and takes time. But it’ll be worth it in the long run.

Sparkles
Shaye
Xoxo

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I’m here for you. For as long as you need me.

I was going to go into detail, tell you of my story but right now I can’t. I can’t because you don’t need to hear my story right now, you need to hear that I will understand yours. If I can’t understand you, I will listen and empathize. I will give you my hand, lend you my shoulder and certainly be a sounding board. I chose these pictures for you because in them I saw my past, I saw my friends, I saw my struggles and I saw the messages I needed so long ago. The reason I became who I am today, I wanted to be the person that I never found so long ago. So these are for you and me.

I am here for you. For as long as you need me.

Sparkles,

Shaye

Xoxo