Cleaning up

This is day 3 of my sobriety. **** and I had a falling out.  Actually, I had a mental breakdown and went into a rage friday night.  I was washing the dishes and he was eating left over pasta on the couch.  I looked over at him as he tried minding his business and trying his best not to glance over at me.  I continued to glare.  How dare he eat my food.  How dare he sit on my couch.  How dare he be under my roof.  I started to verbally abuse him.  When I felt it wasn't enough I took the steak knife I was washing, the same dull knife I used to scratch my wrists,  and held it up to his throat.  He was provoking me.  I let a little bit of logic flood my brain for a split second and threw down the knife.  I was seeing red. I started throwing my fists at his head.  His skull left my knuckles aching. My knuckles left bumps on his head.  My fingernails were bent backward and my nose ring was pulled out half way.   Why does he continue to let me use him as a punching bag?  What kind of woman hits a man?

He left the apartment and went downstairs to talk to the neighbor.  I had enough.  This was the last straw.  This was it.  I called my mother.  I started crying as I told her what had just happened.  I told her I never wanted to see him again.  I was instructed to pack my belongings through my tunnel vision and stay on the phone with her as she and my father were on their way to rescue me.  What they didn't know was that I needed to be rescued from myself.

His parting words to my father and me was, "My dad and I will see you two in court." I wasn't threatened.  That isn't his nature.  Sitting in the passenger seat, I felt relieved to know that I no longer had a chance to do further damage to him or myself.  I left the apartment with both dogs and all five Suboxone strips.  I wanted him to suffer.  

Thinking back to that moment of rage, and the previous times Mr. Hyde came out to play, I am almost certain that it is due to the build up of broken promises **** had made to me these past two years and those I had made to myself,  and the lack of will power on both of our parts. We are trying our best to improve our situations.  I am staying with my parents and he is back at the apartment trying to find work.  I went back on my word by seeing him the next day to give him a strip.  As much as I wanted to paint my heart black, my resilience and nurturing nature continued to shine through.  We are still speaking to each other regularly and we are making an effort to get clean.  We have tried in the past, but our hearts weren't ready.  I believe that in order to kick an addiction, you have to feel it in your mind, body and soul.  Feeling guilty will not cut it.  The feeling of guilt will diminish as soon as the thought of using emerges.

They say that the third time is a charm.  I feel that saying is correct.  I am taking action in a different manner.  Yesterday, my mother and I went to a Christian church.  Although I am not religious I enjoyed being in the presence of those who put God first in their lives.  During the service, my eyes welled up when certain lyrics were sung and when certain words were said.  This is how I knew the pain in my heart started to heal.  At the end of the service my mother and I, along with six other people, were given a personal word from  the pastor.  He compared God and church to the Bowflex commercial.  He said as you would give Bowflex six weeks to change your body, you would give God six weeks to change your life.  I plan to hold him true to his statement.  I am actually looking forward to attending next Sunday's service.

Cleaning up is a difficult process.  I am fortunate to have a loving and supportive family by my side and a father who knows how to encourage me to be my best.  The second night I spent on their living room couch he had a talk with me.  He told me that I needed to open up to the opportunities that are available out in the world.  He told me to make the choices and decisions that will shape my future.  My father is right.  It's now or never to make the change.  The time is now to work on defining the character this world needs and deserves.

GOALS

By the end of 2012 I will accomplish the following:

1)Piss clean

2)Enter a screenplay into a competition

3)Find a female friend

4)Weigh 105 lbs.

5)Stamp my passport

Additional:

-Have waist length hair

-Master three advanced yoga poses

-Meditate for 20 minutes everyday

MY ULTIMATE GOAL:

-WIN SUNDANCE

High Tension

One liner:  The story revolves around a young student who's alternate persona embarks on a fatal rampage.


Pitch:  Marie and her best friend Alexa travel to the country to focus on their studies and to escape the temptation of heavy partying.  Spending the night at Alexa's parents' home, Marie snaps into her alternate persona in the middle of the night, a heavy-set, middle aged male serial killer.  Starting with the brutal decapitation of Alexa's father, then moving on to slitting the throat of her mother, and finally the killing of her younger brother with a shot gun, Marie is eager to save Alexa from the torture of her alternate persona.  It isn't until the end of the film where we find out who the serial killer really is.  The movie ends with Alexa stabbing Marie and escaping, leaving Marie who had survived, in an institution in solitary confinement.

Writer's block and Free Association

Today I experienced my first writer's block.  I was in the process of writing my treatment, and all of a sudden my brain started to frazzle in my skull.  I looked down at the sentences on my college-rule multipurpose writing pad,  however these completed sentences were staring back at me as individual words.  The flow diminished so suddenly that I'm finding it hard to continue writing, hence the fact that I'm writing this blog.  In addition, I made a tuna-corn salad, I gave both dogs a bath, and I scraped ****'s pipe for about 20 minutes.  I will now take a hit of the resin I collected...ugh I hate lighter fluid... ::ExHaLe::...

I spent about $60 today on used books and DVD's. 90% of the titles in my collection are used.  I'll be popping in "High Tension" in about 20 minutes.  My next entry will be the pitch to this film.

My latest Facebook status update...

Question from Secret Society of Women: Where do you see yourself five years from now? Five years from now I will be 29 years old with at least three feature length screenplays under my belt. I see myself in contact/contract with big names in Hollywood, for the discovery of my purpose and passion in life will be shared with the rest of the world.

Rapunzel- VOL.2

Aside from discovering my passion a couple days after my 24th birthday, I had the audacity to chop off 15 inches of hair.  It was chin length- the shortest my hair has ever been.  My plan was to highlight the entire length with blond highlights.  However, due to the indigo I used to color my hair jet black when it was bra strap length, the peroxide damaged the bottom half and turned it into brassy, yellow-green straw. The damage was done and irreversible.  My hair, being my "mane" asset, next to my perky small C cup breasts, was my security blanket. I received tons of complements on the shine, length and over all health of my hair.  The plus side to my situation, however, is the fact that my hair grows super fast...thanks Mom and Dad!  I have grown an inch and a half since the chop in the beginning of August, leaving my hair at 7 inches.

My goal will be grow six inches of length before my 25th birthday in July.  My regimen will consist of scalp massages and oiling the length three to four times a week.  I will keep track of my progress by measuring my hair bi-weekly.  In addition to the healthy treatments I will be doing, I will also be visiting my colorist to touch up my roots.  As long as I continue to oil and keep heat styling to a minimum, I will achieve the honey blond mane I was aiming for.  

Most importantly, my diet will be the key to healthy hair, skin and nails.  Incorporating fresh fruits and vegetables, protein from lean meats and fish and complex carbohydrates into my diet will certainly reflect on my overall health.  

Thank you, Mr. Brownstone

So I relapsed.  I ended up going about the same routine as I did for the past two months upon waking up today.  It's so much simpler to take a hit and get rid of the chills and clammy skin in a matter of seconds than to wait 45 minutes to an hour for the withdrawal medication to kick in. Plus, trying to deal with the emotional baggage that comes along with the withdrawal is absolute hell.  It feels as if the entire world is crumbling down on me.  This is the time when my mind has a mind of its own.  I am burdened with negative thoughts that refuse to leave my head.  I feel guilty about my dependence on Mr. Brownstone, but unlike Axl, I'm the one who ain't leaving him alone.

Thanks to the media, this stuff gets a bad rep.  The horror stories you hear all involve intravenous administration.  Sure I've thought about it, but I'd rather do it the "rich man way." Although I'm not proud of it, I actually managed to accomplish the subject for my 25 page screenplay and the first draft of my beat sheet for my screenwriting class while under the influence.  In addition, I find it funny that I made the decision to enroll back into school with the aid of Mr. Brownstone.  I'm doing very well in all three of my classes by the way.  He has also helped me gain five pounds, which for me, is a very good thing.   Also, my shyness and mild case of social anxiety flew out the window.  Normally, my heart would start pounding as I walk to class, or my hands would start to sweat when I know I'm about to meet someone I've never met before. While on this stuff, I'm fine.  I feel great.  I feel like a normal human being.  I'm living proof that you can use and still have the ability to function, and in my case, function better, in society.     I'm aware that using this isn't the way deal with my psychological issues, but what if it actually improves my quality of life and gives me a better sense of well being? Sure I can treat myself the "healthier" way by exercising and meditating and perhaps speaking to someone about my concerns, but for now, it's me and Mr. Brownstone.

I know I must quit.  It won't be easy.  I have high hopes that writing will help me get though it.

Knowing

Knowing that I can be in full withdrawal mode 12 hours from now makes me wonder why I continued to make the same destructive decisions everyday for the past two months.  He met him at the EZ Pawn on Eastern.   I was there to trade in a $400 pair of clustered diamond earrings for the cheapest diamond studs set in yellow gold.  Walmart brand, I think.  I was aware I was down grading.  We had the chance before but I guess we weren't ready.  That day we were.  We were curious to see where the dragon would take us.  The high wrapped around by bones like a warm velour blanket.  Drifting into euphoria, my anxious demeanor subsided.  Something new, something brown, to numb my emotions once again so I can deal with the ever-expanding hole I'm digging.

Taking the first step

My primary focus for the remainder of the year will be to complete a 25 page screenplay for my screenwriting class. The project will make up 90% of my grade. Coming up with the subject and theme of my screenplay is becoming a challenge for me.  Not only do I want to write about something that will capture the interests of everyone who reads it, both in and out of the class room, but I would also like to submit the screenplay in a screenwriting competition. Perhaps I'm thinking way over my head. Here I am, not having exercised my brain in about three years other than writing on this blog and counting the money I take home from the strip club, and now I'm jumping into this.  I'm actually taking a plunge.  Shortly I'll find out if the water is deep enough to catch my fall.

Having worked only four days in the past five weeks, I've drained most of my bank account and savings.  I gave Mom and Dad $1600 this afternoon so they can pick up the car from Meineke after having a used transmission installed.  I offered, they didn't ask. They could have continued to rent a car, but who knows how long it would take them to save $1700. Dad is the only one in that household working.   I did it so they wouldn't have to worry.  Mom tells me that she has an accounting of all the money I have given them since 2007.  If I were to keep my own accounting, I'd probably puke each time I balanced out the total.  Thousands upon thousands of dollars out of my own pocket I've given them, and nothing to show for it.  It's a damn shame.

The hard part is finally over

I am honored to share with you that I have finally found my true passion and purpose in life, screenwriting.  I've spent many sleepless nights and had shed enough tears to fill a bucket wanting to know what it is that truly makes me happy.  After having a heart to heart conversation with my father, something we've never had with each other before, he made me realize that I've had it in me all along.  I've come to a halt in my path, (three years to be exact) but days after my 24th birthday, I let off the breaks and accelerated, going from 0 to 180 with no desire to slow down.  Finding my passion in life was actually my birthday wish.  Wishes like this, wishes with substance, really do come true!

After three years, I went back to school this semester declaring film as my minor.  It's been about a month since I've been in the club, but I don't care.  I have a new chapter unveiling before me and I am eager to see how it all plays out.  Everything I've done in the past has led me to the discovery of my passion.  I attended University discovering that I had a knack for writing, I spend my leisure time researching various topics of interests, and I can honestly say that I have experienced more in my 24 years of being on this earth than most adults have in their lifetime.  Other than myself, I have also supported my mother, father, two younger sisters and younger brother for a year and a half by working as an exotic dancer.  Stay tuned for a blog entry dedicated to my dedication on keeping my family afloat during the "21st century great depression." I became a sugar mama at 21, and I am still supporting my boyfriend as he continues to pursue his passion in music.

I know everything I have been through in my life thus far, the emotional turmoil, the unconditional love and devotion for my family and boyfriend, and the temporary loss of sanity (stay tuned for this entry), will all pay off in the end.   I will, one day, become a successful woman doing what I love and finally fulfilling my plan set fourth in 2005.  The Triple "L" Plan- Lounging in the Lap of Luxury.

Therapy now in session

I haven't published on Blogger for sometime due to the fact that I have been popping the Rx rather than channeling my anxieties and emotions through my writing.  I constantly tell myself I will maintain a chemical-free temple and deal with the stresses life throws at me by writing, eating healthy and hitting the gym. I remember the time when I would consider myself the ultimate gym kitty. For two years, before dancing entered my life, I was at Las Vegas Athletic Club four times a week for approximately two hours. I'd hit the gym before the parties on the weekend and I felt absolutely phenomenal. As a full time college student I had a banging body, and not to mention most importantly, I possessed a healthy state of mind.  Working out releases oxytocin in the brain.  It's that "runner's high" you get after a good pump and jog. THAT was the high I was addicted to.

The Devil was at my doorstep not long after I was hired at that dive-ish, all nude strip club. I spent the first six months maintaining my toned and shapely physique and dancing sober as a bird.  I remember the night I was introduced to these long white bars that were supposed to "fuck you up and make time fly." Not being aware of an addicted personality my brain had kept under wraps, and being the type that likes to try things once for the sake of just trying it,  I kindly partook in the pill popping extravaganza with another fellow dancer before my shift that Saturday night.  After all, its been a while since I've "partied."

That night was a blur but I had still made a fist full of cash. However for the next couple months, that chemical became a part of me. I felt more confident and outspoken, I laughed a lot more, I had a huge appetite, which I loved, and I didn't think much about my personal problems at home. Also with that Rx being a downer, I started neglecting the care I once had for my body.  Being naive about pharmaceutical drugs, I did little research into the medication I was recreationally taking.  It wasn't long until fun ran out. This party soon started to become a nightmare. This anti-anxiety pill, when it wasn't in my system, was actually giving me symptoms of anxiety when I've never struggled with the condition before. I was in a state of withdrawal. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep.  That beautiful girl I once knew was somewhere hiding beneath the bag of bones I saw staring back at me in my full length mirror.  I felt ultimately depressed thinking how ashamed I am to just be me.  I started learning more and more about benzodiazepines and the damage it can do over time.

I've been in a constant struggle of making the attempt to get off this Rx for two years, and I have made a commitment to myself to wean off this dangerous substance once and for all.  My goal is to be drug-free by the end of May and to finally start working out again.  I feel that my posting this blog and being open about my substance abuse can aid me in my path toward complete health and happiness without depending on chemicals to define who I am inside and out.

"The $10,000 Club"

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Food for thought

HOLD THE NITRATES AND FILLERS, PLEASE.

3/11/11: 
You're picky about the car you drive. You're picky about what you wear. You're picky about what you put in your mouth. We want you to be pickier about what you think.
--- Abraham

Excerpted from the workshop in Napa, CA on Thursday, February 27th, 1997

http://www.abraham-hicks.com/lawofattractionsource/index.php?i=1

Abraham-hicks.com is set as my homepage when connecting to the web, thanks to my dear younger sister, therefore I follow the quotes on a daily basis.  Although very simple, I've found that this quote holds true to my heart. The fact that I'm making payments on a car I picked up from a second chance dealership doesn't make me picky about my whip. The fact that I wear clothes from the Fallas doesn't make me picky about what I wear either..well maybe a little, but I'm no label whore! What I put into my mouth? That's another story...

Each day my racing mind was turned on and tuned in upon waking to a station that spits useless information. My mind usually keeps me up at night/morning as well. I can say that my mind has a mind of its own. Before this quote emerged on my Macbook screen, I was vaguely aware of my thought patterns. I never before thought to stop, think, and rewire.

For instance, I'm at home doing dishes and suddenly The Situation from that utterly atrocious show Jersey Shore creeps up into my brain, and lifts his shirt to reveal the the washboard. Now,  these are thoughts that refer back to segments, okay I admit, episodes, I turn zombie for when I'm vegging on my cal king with the boyfriend.  I feel guilty and ashamed to admit I watch it, but it is what it is. The thoughts of the Sitch leads me into thinking about the other shit characters on the show. I said CHARACTERS not people, a major difference I wish everyone can understand. Which then leads me into thoughts of the fist pump, then to a nightclub in Vegas I've yet to party at, then the cocaine, oh the cocaine..and ecstasy..the raves and the flashing lights. Oh hey, that Lupe Fiasco song... Ya catch my drift? It's insanely ridiculous. The media is poisonous to my mental well being. As much as you'd hate to think, it is to yours as well.  $.25 Cup of Noodles are to the body as negative and empty thoughts are to the mind. It's cheap, it fills you up..full of empty carbohydrates and MSG. POISON.

I tell myself that I must make the wise choice to disregard negative thought patterns because they do, in fact, lead to negative emotions, which in turn leads to negative physical ailments in the body. It's the mind-body connection, baby! I'm aware that I must start a workout regimen, again,  in combination with meditation to maintain good health. I must rewire into affirmative thinking, which will lead to affirmative action, hmm... Good thought are like fruits and veggies, vitamins and minerals!

I will be aware of my "train" of thought. 

I will mentally shut up, therefore I will prosper. 

First class Amtrak from here on out; no more "freight train" in my brain.

Denying your intuition

After all that's happened tonight, as well as in the past, I've come to the conclusion that denying your intuition takes you two steps back, away from your main purpose and overall positive direction in life, and it blinds you, with each careless shrug of the shoulders.  When I go against my gut feeling, and continue to do something I feel goes against my true will, whether it be for me or someone else, I feel as if a veil is place over my head and the situation becomes cloudy and my thoughts become foggy. It's as if I were going about my business with an accumulation of plaque built up in my brain. It's a feeling so subtle yet so spiritually damaging. This is my best logical reasoning as to why I continue to get the shit end of the stick.  I attract the most negative circumstances.

People talk about the law of attraction, which is really just a glorified expression of an occultist's mindset. I find it extremely difficult to maintain a positive attitude and to believe in the positive outcome of every situation.  As much as I hate this word, KUDOS to those who do.  As much as I'd like to be that happy-go-lucky gal strolling down the street, I just don't see it in my path.  Is this depression? Perhaps everything I've experienced from 2007-2009 has lead me in the path of complete negativity which in turn ends up in my uncontrollable, righteous self destruction. This illusion of my proclaimed karmic conspiracy has me thinking that all the times I've denied my intuition, the Universe denies me of my wants and needs..my wants more so.   I walk into a grocery store and hope my trip ends smoothly.  I pick out the shittiest cart. I leave a message on an answering machine hoping to not fuck up the message.  Waddayano? I flub it up.

But seriously, the law of attraction is real. I think, therefore I am. I know, that "energy goes where my thoughts flow," but how do I deal with my negative thoughts when it seems..it seems, so hard to think positive?  I picture it as my low vibrational waves trying to aim at becoming higher, something more, something simply better...something it is not and something I am not, YET.

Along with my editing of this post I included a quotation from abraham-hicks.com that was posted today:

Whatever you are giving your attention to is already vibrating. And when you give your attention to it, if you maintain your focus for as little as 17 seconds, you begin to include its vibration, whatever it is, in your vibration. When you see something you want, and you give it your attention, and you say yes to it, you are including whatever its vibration is in your vibration. When you see something you do not want, and you shout no at it, you are including whatever its vibration is in your vibration. In this vibrational world, which is everything, you are far more vibrational beings than you are verbal beings. You are communicating with everyone far more on a vibrational basis, than you are on a verbal basis.
--- Abraham

Excerpted from the workshop in Portland, OR on Sunday, July 11th, 1999

Yup, Abraham knows what's up.

Darth Vada

I have an unusual bedtime. My circadian cycle is pretty off in accordance to nature.  I'd love to be an early riser who wakes up in time to conjure up a cup of herbal tea and watch the sun rise each morning.  Although I do have the option of staying up until the sun rises, for instance, times when I come home at 5 am, I know it wouldn't be as fulfilling. I live in an apartment complex where any type of view is pretty much nonexistent. 

As I was laying in bed last night, I was recalling the last blog I wrote about possibly changing my name, thinking that I'd somehow gain and lose different parts of my personality I was unhappy with. Then I thought, "what the fuck, I just made myself sound like I have some borderline personality issue. I better delete some parts of that post." I made a rule for myself though- once published, you cannot delete. I have the tendency of making assumptions about myself based on an online self diagnosis. This is something one should NEVER do.  However, I do find it ironic that when in the club, men sometimes crack jokes when I shout my name over the loud speakers. "Hi I'm Vada." "Oh, as in Darth Vada?" This is what irks me:

In 2007, a group of French psychiatrists and psychologists "diagnosed" the Star Wars character, Darth Vader, as having six out of the nine symptoms of borderline personality disorder. Now I have not seen any of the Star Wars films, ( I know), so I don't know what to think of this observation. I do find it pretty fucking pathetic that these French doctors are diagnosing a fictitious character.  It got irritating after about the fifth or sixth time hearing it in the club. Even my manager jumped the wagon.  I'll admit though, it makes a pretty damn good user name : ) So that's the story behind that. 

Btw, I chose "Vada" after Anna Chlumsky's character in the movie "My Girl." 

Blogger as therapy

It's been almost five months since I've visited blogger.com. I figure, aside from using blogging to aid in keeping track of my search for my higher being, I can also use blogging as emotional therapy. I'm looking for different ways to channel my unpredictable emotions, for writing may be a great coping mechanism, and something I must do on a day to day basis.

I have the tendency to come up with an idea, start a project, or look into a subject that interests me at that moment in time, learn the basics, and then forget all about it. I can understand why I lack confidence and why I've depleted my self esteem. I never gave myself a chance to become proud of who I was or what I have accomplished.  Looking back into the past (something many say you shouldn't do when it comes to evaluating and criticizing the present..some thing I do EVERYDAY) I realized that I was never head strong or someone who I'd call a leader of their own life. Since childhood, I've had others make decisions for me even if it didn't make ME happy.  I've come to learn that I SHOULD PUT MYSELF AHEAD OF EVERYONE ELSE, AND MAKE DECISIONS BASED ON HOW I'D WANT TO MOLD MY UNIVERSE..AN ABUNDANCE OF HAPPINESS AND SELF WORTH. 


Now, on with the deprogramming.

Allow Me to Introduce Myselves

10/24/10
As a 23 year old woman trying to find herself in what some call the " 21st century Great Depression," it's a struggle at times to try and keep a straight head.  I'll admit there was actually a moment where I had literally "lost it" (hence the title of the blog) but I'll discuss that another time.

3/5/11
In continuation from what was originally published five months ago, I've made the decision this week to visit blogger.com on a daily basis. It's for the greater good of my well being.  SO, with that said...allow myself to introduce..myselves:

I am called (edit: I've decided to post my blog on a public forum).  My astrological sign is cancer, which I'm not too proud of, for I do fit the description rather thoroughly. Sensitive, emotional, moody, etc. For the most part I consider myself passive. I'm too nice. I believe cancer possesses many negative qualities. Even the name sounds morbidly unappealing. I would like to make it a goal to banish those negative traits. I'm the eldest of four, however I don't believe I'm looked up to the way an older sister should be. I'm making a conscious effort to decipher the relationship I have with my parents, for they've really fucked me over.. for lack of better words.  More on that later...maybe.

In 2007 I became an exotic dancer.  I created "Vada." Now I definitely wouldn't call this an alter-ego; it's just a stage name I chose for myself. Unlike many dancers whose alter-egos, at first, manifests in the club, then eventually (or should I say inevitably?) transitions this persona into their everyday life, I find it difficult to do the same even though I wish I could. You'd think becoming an exotic dancer would have created thicker skin as most woman in the industry do; however, I believe it's made me more passive.  I can attest that my drug dependence has a lot to do with it.  More about that later.

I'm looking forward to my future entries.