My Crazy Life

So, where do I begin. Oh my story. Well, the shortened version is.

It is 2004. He didn’t love me. Or better yet I never loved myself. That’s where it all roots down to. K was his name. And K oh did you ever do a number on me. I was skinny 120 pounds, but yet in your presence I felt fat and ugly? WHY? Do you remember? It all comes back to me in blurs. But as I remember the bits and pieces I will bring you back with me. On my journey.

That faithful day to the psychiatrists office. Where I got my first dose of Lexapro and I was crying in your office. The tears didn’t stop. We talked about my family and we talked about relationships and I just cried and cried and you threw pills at me. It sent me off. Into the abyss I ran. Running to the Holiday Inn a mile from my house because the government stole my car and were hunting me down. Signed up for the Army that day too. The Lexapro made me do it. The Holiday Inn…..what a blur. Ran up and down stairs, up and down elevators, knocking on every door. Jesus you were calling me, but what room are you in? Knock on Room 203, 404, 506…..Knock…..knock……is Jesus there? Who was I looking for?

The hotel manager couldn’t kick me out because I was completely coherent. What is your name L.F. you know me. I know me. I know who I am but to them I can’t tell them of my plans to find Jesus. They can’t know. Act cool. Just let them think you are normal.

Drunk at the hotel bar, I tell the bartender I have to see my boyfriend. Take me to him. The bartender finishes his shift calls me down from my room and we are off to find my boyfriend. I am outside his building. The bartender says good luck and leaves me there. K are you home? No answer on home phone and cell phone. Oh shyt its 4am on a Wednesday. You idiot! He’s sleeping. Have to get back to the hotel and find Jesus before the reckoning of the sunrise. I hail a cab, how I got one at 4am is beyond me but hey this is NY right? Back to the hotel. Have to find Jesus. I can hear him talking to me. I fall asleep. Jesus never came.

The sun shines. The army recruiter is at the door. Ms. I am here to take you to sign up. Odd. How did he know where I was? Did I tell him? This man in an army uniform in my hotel room in the bathroom telling me to come over and look do I like what I see? His “thing” hanging out. Totally inappropriate. But whatever. Jesus wants me to join the army so I have to go with this perv.

But wait…….what happens now……oh god I don’t remember……

Ms. L.F. …… wake up…….My name is Nurse H…..you are at Gracie Square Medical Center……

Stay tuned……..A year later. In my room. Darkness. Did a year pass already? What the hell did I do? Where is K? Oh that’s right. He left me. Changed his number. Good one. I guessed I effed up your life. Time to end mine. Got the vodka bottle, got the pills, down the rabbit hole I go. Another night of sirens ringing in my ear. They pumped my stomach. They saved me. Now why the hell did you go and do that.

Another three years go by. What the hell did I do for three years? Nothing, Its 2008. I’m 28. I did nothing with my life. No college no career. Guess I will drink some more.

Oh the joys of the internet. Look at this, oooh, chatrooms. I guess I can get into trouble here. Oh something called Myspace. Time to put a sexy picture up and get a man, I need a man, Life isn’t complete without one. Met one, god he is cute. He takes pictures as I bang him. Will he post them or save them somewhere? Probably, probably showed all his friends. Best sex ever though. On a high, I feel the mania coming back. What happened to all the psychiatric meds they gave me? Oh I threw them out. Don’t need them don’t want them. They do nothing for me. Fast forward. Moving Day. Up all night, not eating not sleeping. Am I possessed? Why did I buy all these things? All this useless crap. Mania in overdrive. I keep leaving the house. The new house we just moved into. All the neighbors wondering who this girl is wandering around the neighborhood in her pajamas. I keep escaping. Mom is gonna lock me in an institution forever. Grandma tells her not to. “That’s your flesh and blood, you can’t lock her away” I hear them. They are calling me. I am possessed. My parents take me to a witch doctor because they think I am possessed. I had learned some scriptures in Latin that seem to flow off my tongue. My parents think the devil has got me. He might as well have.

Back up. 2004 again. Aliens are talking to me. They are calling me home. I must go home. I follow a star all over Manhattan, it is leading me all over. I follow it. To my boyfriend’s job. I am in and out of the building, setting off alarms in the residence because I am opening all the fire exits. They call the police. They call K. They call the manager. Do you think he left me because I almost had him fired because I’m nuts? I think so.

Forward now to 2008. I am possessed. I got to the witch doctor. “We want to perform an exorcism”. Wait back up. I’m not possessed. I am just plain crazy. What is your name? I know my name. I talk to him normally just like you and I are talking. My parents look at me. Were you faking? “Psst. no I really am the devil” Come to find out I am just bipolar.

Fast forward 2009. Hmmm. Who’s Who of Business Professionals. What a scam. I am a great telemarketer. I have a great presence on the phone. I am too wild though. I yell at some lawyer and now I am in the manager’s office. “You should be a stockbroker and work on Wall Street” Ok. Challenge accepted. I find a stockbroker company. Wow. All men. They look at me. Wonder how many of them I can ***** before I get fired? Hmmm… Stay tuned…….

Back to Who’s Who….. so they fired me? What am I doing back here? I am in the parking lot on a Sunday morning wondering to myself why I am there. The car is revving up. I love this car. My baby, my 1998 black Toyota Corolla. I thought the government wanted to steal you from me. Time for you to die. Both of us. Back on the highway. In and out of traffic. 110mph…..120……how far can I step on this pedal.??? I hear sirens. Shyt the cops. Must go faster. I hear the muffler ready to fall out. Something is scraping on the ground as I fly through traffic. Slam into one car. Then another. Through the metal railing I go 120mph with the air bags deployed. I get out the car. I am completely unharmed. Not a scratch…….

At the hospital now. I am cursing out the cop. Stupid pig. I wasn’t going that fast. My mom is there. She is crying. I did that. My dad is not there. My sister is not there.

Back up to that day I was following the star in Manhattan in 2004…..what did I do earlier that day? Oh yes my sister. She is 12 now and obsessed with witchcraft. I did that with my movies like The Craft and Practical Magic. I run outside in my bra. I scream up at the thunderclouds. “I am your servant” “Take me with you”. The neighbors are watching. I don’t care. Eff them, I didn’t like them anyway. Then off to Manhattan, and to my boyfriend’s job and where I was following the star. Somewhere that day with the army recruiter comes shooting back. What day was that? One of those.

Fast forward to 2010…….Kinda quiet now……

This is my life ladies and gentlemen……

Stay tuned……

6 Responses to My Crazy Life

  1. Congrats you’ve been nominated for the Imspirational Blogger Award!
    http://binderfullofmen.wordpress.com/2013/04/14/inspiring-blogger-award/

  2. Good morning! Just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing. I’m enjoying reading some more of your blog. I hope this finds you well and with much peace and internal love. Take good care of yourself. 🙂

    • Thank you so much! I just write and write and hope someone is reading. Mostly I just write to find peace with myself, but I am glad you are reading! I have had a few rough patches lately, but I am still chugging along 🙂

  3. opheliamuses says:

    I just wanted to tell you I’m older than you, however I can so relate to most of this post…especially the hooking up on the internet thing, then thinking you’re possessed or something as you’re moving and exploring everything at the speed of light!

    • Yes definitely! I am glad you can relate to this. Most people don’t understand what its like to be bipolar and manic. I have been on the depressive side for a while now but I miss those days of mania.

      Thank you for commenting and following my blog, and of course thanks again for understanding.

  4. Beautifully Broken says:

    I wish there were ways to send direct e-mails, maybe there are but I’m new to all of this. You are an amazing writer!!! The sincerity, honesty, and openness are what those struggling with mental illness need. Those that don’t struggle can gain much from your writings as well. It can be very hard to express just how hard this FUCKING illness can be to live with.

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