December 7, 2005

9:21 AM - 12/7/05
~the number you have reached

I actually got in a couple good hours of sleep, just now. Phone woke me up though. MRI people calling me with the usual "pre-registration" questions. I want to go back to sleep. Sleep good. Awake bad.

Think I can damage enough brain to regress to caveman? Maybe to fish? Slime mold?

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7:05 PM - 12/7/05
~Park Sutton

So, today is "Fire Day".

Doesn't matter what else happened on this day in History, to me and Bunny, it will always be Fire Day.

On December 7, 1977, the apartment complex Bunny and I lived in was burned down. I got out. Bunny didn't. Bunny got stuck there, until he was picked up out of the mess. There was a lot of ice because it was winter. There was a lot of other people's things in our apartment that had washed in with the water. That's what I was told.

Bunny had to be put into the washing machine. We were at my step-father's parents house where, thankfully, they had one. So, Bunny went into the device. He looked pretty scared, but he made it through.

Then, it turned out that Bunny couldn't dry. Bunny had cotton inside. I was very sad.

...but, my step-father's mother, little did I know, had a license to perform Stuffisurgery. I found out because I walked in on it.

Bunny was pinned, by his ears, to a long rope, gutted.

I cried and I cried and I cried.

I waited in the Stuffihospital lounge, trying to distract myself with the tv. My sister was there too. Her Teddy went through the fire. She was crying too.

After a while, I watched while Bunny got his new organs and got stitched up. He needed a tail transplant, but it went ok.

Bunny never completely got over the horror of it all. We talk about it sometimes. He has flashbacks when he gets a bath.

We're still truckin' on though, me and Bunny. We may both be miserable fucks, but hey... at least we're cute.

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9:53 PM - 12/7/05
~Leaking on my head

It was 1994, Everything that could go wrong was going wrong. I'd lost my job, my home, my head was a mess, my relationship had blown up in my face, my body was sliced to ribbons, the room I was staying in was roach infested, and I had Scabies. It couldn't get any worse.

I was 3 breaths away from crying.

I said to myself, "It can't get any worse. It really just can't."

Then, the roof started dripping... on my head.


I laughed so damn hard I nearly pissed myself.



It was 2004. It was ALL bad. ALL wrong. I'd destroyed my friendships, given up my home and just about everything I owned, I was in a relationship with a complete nut case, I was in the middle of Bumfuck Nowhere, I was cold, I was blind in one eye, I was cut - for the first time in forever, it couldn't get any worse.

I was 3 breaths away from killing myself.

Then, the phone rang. It was the doctor. I'd just been diagnosed with MS.

I laughed.

I LAUGHED.

After a while, when I pulled myself together, and read (with one eye) what I could about the disease, it all made sense. All of it. Everything I'd been telling people for years... there it was. It was MS. I said... "hey... at least now you have proof that there actually is something wrong with your brain. No more "you look fine to me" or going to the psych ward, or people not understanding. You have MS. People will get it now."

I just want to say this... for the fucking record. Don't EVER challenge me. Don't EVER doubt that I'm sick. Don't EVEN DARE. I'll "look fine to you" while I'm sucking your guts out through a fucking straw.

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10:10 PM - 12/7/05
I replied to a comment in "Park Sutton"

I think that we use stuffed animals emotionally... I couldn't cry about the fire, but I could cry over Bunny. Same for my sister. Today, Bunny is a part of me. He looks as grumpy as I usually feel. It's easier to say "Bunny doesn't like her", than I don't like her... or "Bunny tells me to go blow, when I ask him if he would do the dishes", rather than I don't want to do the dishes. Too, stuffed animals never judge you, and they're always there when you need company

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10:26 PM - 12/7/05
~temper temper

Going to drink myself to sleep

The rage gets SO BAD sometimes. I try so hard... but it's SO BIG. It's without target... it just builds and flys... flies... flys... fucking shit.

Temporal lobe seizures... I kept telling my last Shrinkydink that I thought I was having them... Have to remember to look it up (again?). I think that they have something to do with Werewolves... something on The Discovery Channel... The Learning Channel... one of those.

My temporal lobes are REALLY scarred.

My whole brain is.


I'm so tired.