Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Happy New Decade~2010

I'm still single....Pondering if this year will be my last here on Earth. I think this way every year. To be or not to be, that is the question.....I get so low around Xmas and New Years. Another year older and still alone. I actually went out on a date the other night, and was wondering what the hell i was doing there. I feel like I don't belong of this world at all. I turn down men all the time, and wonder what the hell is wrong with me. Like I want to be miserable or something. I just don't feel I got it in me to live a normal life. I don't want to date someone and get attached to him. I don't feel I have anything to offer a man. I'm not pretty enough, sexy enough, interesting enough, responsible enough, etc.. so I shoot them down before I even give them a chance. Convinced I am nothing. I lie on my couch and listen to my music and chat with online friends sometimes. They are a safe distance away... over in Italy or Spain or wherever. Local guys I tell I am not interested and that I don't date.

Medication and therapy doesn't help me at all. I go to church sometimes and that helps a little. I really don't want to live another year, to be honest. I called UCLA the other and said I was too depressed to come in. Too depressed to move. I finally went in this past Monday to do some more Psych testing, and Chelsea asked me to come into her office. She asked me if I were safe and that she was concerned about me. Oh don't worry, I say, I go through this every year. I won't do anything to myself. Yeah, that's because I'm a big wuss and a coward. I ask God to put me out of my misery, but I am still here. If everyone has something to offer the world, I would dearly love to know what I have to offer.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

UCLA Bipolar Research Thingy Today

God, I woke up with my guts in a knot from anxiety, thinking about venturing out to famous UCLA campus here in Westwood, to meet Chelsea, the girl who is conducting bipolar research. Means cash to me. Something of which I am in short supply of. I met Chelsea back in July I think, when I went there with my friend Denise. Denise is in the program, so I asked D to go with me on the bus to show me how to get there. My car wasn't running, and I had to start riding busses.

I only have a short time to be in the program, cuz they only take women up to age 50. Me being compulsively honest as ridiculous as that is, had to blurt out my life story as usual. I have this need to let everyone I meet know what a loser I am, so I of course told Chelsea I was addicted to pot at the time, and was self medicating. She's a very nice person, but told me that I had to wait 6 months to be in the program again and be clean from drugs in all that time. Once again my need to blurt out my foibles causes me to shoot myself in the foot.

So here I am, months later, still clean from pot. If I hadn't told her that, I could have stayed in the program and been getting money to be interviewed. Now I am sick from anxiety, and thinking of excuses not to go, cuz UCLA campus intimidates me. I am a full time recluse, and even though I live on a busy LA street with thousands of cars going by all the time, I am removed from it, living on the 4th floor. I can look out and see life go by~watching it happen to other humans. My Ivory Tower, I call it. My cats my only companions. My cats drive me crazy sometimes, but I think I would commit suicide if I didn't have them for some kind of affection. I get asked out on dates everyday on, but the thought of going to meet a stranger from the net puts me off, so I turn them all down. I feel I have nothing to offer a real man anyway....And of course, the holiday season always does my head in.

My therapist Jane says I CAN get out, and that I have to force myself to do it. I made myself go to church on Sunday, and everyone there is so nice, asking me where I had been, since I'd been gone from there for months as well. There is a big stained glass window over the choir and pulpit, of Jesus with his arms out stretched, and I always say hi to him and stare at him while the pastor gives his sermon. I feel so far removed from humanity that I feel like an alien from another planet when I am amongst other humans. I stare at Jesus and wonder how a sweet, self deluded carpenter from a tiny town thought himself to be God himself, and how he believed it so much, he was willing to die for it. Then I think that maybe Jesus was bi polar or schizophrenic, cuz I think I am bipolar angel from the City of Angels myself sometimes...Don't want to sound blasphemous, and I love Jesus, but that's the kind of weird thoughts that go around in my head always.

I still get messages from God sometimes, but I haven't so much since I quit smoking pot. My problem is I am so addicted to it, I can smoke non stop all day, trying to keep that level of high going. Last time I got a message was not too long ago. I was watching a show named Supernatural, and there was a scene where Sam and Dean, the brothers who fight demons, meet who they though was a demon, but who was really the angel Gabriel. Right as they find this out, this song on my playlist on my computer starts playing this song by Lamb called Gabriel...."I can fly, but I want his wings~~My angel Gabriel..." This happens to me enough that it gets my attention. My playlist is automatic and changes tunes everytime a song comes on. Jung would call it Synchonicity, and maybe to some degree it is, the mass unconcious human mind works, but these are machines that I get messages from. I try to write this stuff down to authenticate it when it happens on the radio, to prove that there was a song at such and such a day from the station. But the song Gabriel playing was my own little message I suppose, since I can't prove it played just at that moment. I have had a couple of other things happen back in the summer, but will write that down laste. Now, I have gear myself up to get to UCLA. Stuff like getting through this god awful LA traffic and finding a parking space makes me fret and get sick, just anticipating...

And I want to say hi to BRB, the guy who left me a comment on my last posting. You said you never got any encouragement growing up, and ur self esteem stinks too.. Yeah I know how that is. Sometimes I despise my mama for that. Never a hug or a kiss, or her telling me she loved me. Throwing out my art work that I put up on my walls. I try to forgive her, cuz she is self absorbed person and said she was raised without love herself, but at age 50, I am still suffering from it. I ask my therapist if I am ever going to get over it~I mean my mom is 81 yrs old, for pete's sake....Am I going to resent her to her grave?

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Grey Saturday In LA

Grey today ~supposed to rain. In pain as always. Thinking about what a screw up I am. Thinking about how I'm letting my life pass me by, being a recluse. Avoiding going out. Waking up crying and wondering why I can't get my shit together. Growing old alone......I just think of different ways to kill myself every holiday season. Go outside and lie in the busy traffic~overdose on my old meds......go buy a gun and blow my head off.....I'm a life is going one loves me

My therapist says, "Well, u don't do anything to get ur self out of it. Everything that comes out of ur mouth is negative"....How can I explain to her that it is ingrained in me? She knows I have low self esteem. She knows I think I'm ugly no matter how many men say I'm pretty. All I ever see is the wrinkles and sagging skin. I call myself a hag in the mirror. I tell myself no one would want a pathetic loser like me. I hate life. Why would anyone want a negative person like me around?

I just lie on my couch with my cats, not moving. Listening to life pass me by outside. I live on a very busy LA street, and wonder how all these people get through their days......I can't move. I sleep a lot. Can't even be bothered to feed myself most of the time. Sometimes, I wake up, and I'm lying like a mummy with my arms crossed~~even in sleep this death like feeling permeates me. I dream always of going to these beautiful places.....all the lovely tranquil spots in the world I crave to be a part of. I cry and hit myself in the head when i wake up, in terrible pain that I am missing the beauty the world has to offer. I hate myself for missed opportunities and letting myself get involved with men that used and abused me. How I wasted my child bearing years on these low lifes.....How I could have had a better life, but my low self esteem kept me from choosing good men.....Never thought I was good enough or smart enough or pretty enough for a decent man to love. Every time a man likes me, I have a need to tell him what is wrong with me. I point out my beauty flaws or other things I think needs to be said. I want him to know I'm not worth loving.....

Christmas season is the worst time of year for me. Reminds me of all I don't have and never will have. No husband or family. No home. Just me and my cats.......I'm grateful for my low rent apt., but I think I will end my days here....

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Another Bummer Holiday Season Spent Alone..

I haven't been here to my blog since August, and actually found a couple of comments waiting for me. Didn't even know anyone read this crap I spill out. God knows even I can't be bothered to read it. Too depressing. I just fell so awful I thought I'd stop by and write something cuz I feel like death itself. Can't get off my couch. Just live on it with my cats. All three of us try to sleep on it together. Gets crowded.
I've stopped smoking pot again, cuz it was making me even crazier, if that's possible. So I've been clean since around June. Tried meds again, and have gone off them again. My friend Kim says I should get down on my knees and thank God for medication, but it never really helps me that much anyway. I'm miserable on it and off it. All I know is my life is totally passing me by....

Friday, August 7, 2009


I just want to put down how awful i feel. how sad and alone and depressed and miserable. how much i hate life. how i want to die. how i can't leave my apt or look for a job or go out on a date. i don't want to live. it is unbearable living like this. it is not a life. it is pure pain.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

RIP Michael

 Been too ill to comment on all the celebrities dropping dead recently. Very sad Michael passed on. What a talent! He can't feel the beat anymore, and that's sad. But on the same token, the love love love love love that the world had directed at him sent him straight to heaven, amen, to be with his ex dad in law, Elvis the Pelvis , to rock out , twist and shout in the sky! yes Jesus! i feel all spiritual all of the sudden.


Michael tried to save the world with his songs~~he had a tender soul..he was misunderstood and had to live under the pressures of fame... he retreated from reality with his never never ranch....semi delusional peter pan man boy....he had deep feelings of insecurity and pain and took too many sad...but I know he is still alive is us here on Earth that have to miss out knowing him for now..... we are the ones who can't hear his songs anymore.

what is sad is what he says is so true, and not many people seem to listen....

if we kill off animals and plant life, and keep being war like, we kill off ourselves....


Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Same song, different verse.....

Still not well. I finally started moving and functioning a little in the past few days out of necessity. I had to again advance money from my SSDI to try and get some groceries for me and my cats. I had nothing in frig and no cat food, litter, or toilet paper. I have not been going out of my apt in is endless. I have to go to dentist today to see about my tooth that has been falling apart before our MediCal quits paying dental in a few days. Thanks Arnold Swarzeneggger....I am quite despondant these days on a daily basis, and have lost weight. I look old and awful to me. I am sure I will never attract a mate now. Why would anyone decent want a mental case that is old looking on top of it? I sent out a couple of resumes today, even though I feel this way. This person that I was infatuated with has proven to me he does not want me, even though that is what he stated when we met. I feel like a fool and a slut. Well, I have never been known to make wise decisions when it comes to men. I tell people that in another life, I must have been a man that treated women badly, because I feel like I am paying for it now with my come uppance. I try to attach meaning to my suffering, but it is what it is, I guess. Some people function better in society, and I have always gravitated to the outer circles because of my inferiority complex. Intellectually, I realize I am smart and somewhat attractive, but my ego is damaged. Yep. I am damaged goods, and men see that and run away from me. Me and my pessimistic attitudes do not help it either. It would be so wonderful to feel normal and not overwhelmed with fear and self hatred. Low self esteem ruined my life.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Saturday inside my head

I can't deal with this stress of no money.. I have gone over the edge in alot of ways. Won't leave my apt...Won't have anything to do with my friends. Depression is killing me. My friends pounded on my door a couple of days ago, to see if I was still alive. I wanna die. I think about it enough. I feel very sluggish and can't function. I try to sleep, and am depressed and frightened in my dreams. I wake up crying and feeling hopeless. I just don't know if I have a worth to my life. That I matter in any way whatsoever. Men on my social sites tagged and myspace tell me how beautiful I am all the time.. How desirable and sweet. I eat ashes and say thank u. It doesn't mean anything to me. I have learnt that some of these men that I have told to read my blog and have told that I have messages sent to me, is avoiding me. AndI have found that men avoid me after a couple of dates. They don't wanna know a crazy girl. Fuck u all............

Friday, June 19, 2009

Hey Arnold---yeah u!!!

I just want to take a moment and talk about our wonderful governor Arnold and how he is cutting all poor peoples money to make up the state deficit...Just to let u know, Arnold, I had both my SSI and SSA cut, and now have $4 in my bank acct. to get me through the month...It is the 19th of the month and I guess me and my cats starve the rest of the month. Not only that, u take away dental.....What next, medical? I have been going mental for weeks cuz I cant' pay my bills anymore, and I get punished further by u taking away even more money. Thanks alot. I cry on a daily basis and am ill. I have to go out and get job feeling suicidal......I pace the floors in a manic state every night, wondering what is going to become of me. I get delusional even. But u and Maria go and have a nice dinner that ur fucking chef cooks.......Fucking governator....

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Ponderin' life in my lil red geo

i have no doubt that in some way this is really happening to me, because i keep getting in my car and meandered unthinking towards venice beach to maybe drown luck would have it, it was street cleaning day so couldn't find parking so i just drove around in traffic....LA traffic is so horrible...i heard this song i had never heard before, saying, so u want to take ur life......i felt i was getting messages again......i found a quiet back street and pulled under a shade tree....bob marley came on, singing, give thanks & praise to the lord and feel alright........thanks bob.....KROQ lunch break.....i cry and listen to pink floyd the this all tied in with my mental illness?????? is this all real????? am i just a speck of sand ?? a mote in God's eye?????? LA traffic boxes me in from all sides.....i feel paranoid and afraid i am losing it....god i don't know what to think anymore....

OMG This is Real.....

I am angel, i have angel page,,i live in the city of listen, i am going to go and die now....either i am on esoteric high and need to be hospitalized, or this is real..........god is calling us all to love another, do not fear we come in skies at night red skies at night.......stand or falll???? state ur piece tonight....stand or fall? state ur PEACE's the euro theatre.......stand or fall.......???????????? r u reading me steve??????? if this is not real, just say hi on hotmail,,,,,,ok gianni, alessandros, giovannis, marcos, paolos, etcs. u guys mean alot to artists, all of u the world people take care of poor angelina angelina angel..............................i like ur dad, give him a break....hahahaha whooooooo!! go Angel Lakers.......!!! maybe u won on purpose?? now give
money to the poor ...

i am just the scribe. the real teacher comes later

Just another day in LA......nothin' special....

Very emotional this married Paul doesn't even call me anymore, so I have to forget he exists and go on....I was infatuated with him, but that is totally over now. He knows I am bipolar and can't pay my bills and looking for not even call and see if I am ok speaks volumes to me.....

When I go delusional like I have been doing for weeks now, it is a bitter thing to realize I have no one to turn to to talk about this..that I have to go it alone....I have my therapist Jane, but it is not enough......I am alone in this world.....bipolar world. My doc says I am unstable and may be going starting to go through menopause so he wanted me to go to my doc.....I am distraught that once again I am proven wrong that I am not here to help this world---that I am not an angel, and that I am just mentally ill and that I don't matter in this world. I have to stop crying and just realize I have no one but me to rely on.....

It's so weird....I feel I have a message to get out to the world, but so what? Others have already done it....what would make me more special than them...??? That others could talk to me while I am in a full delusional state and channeling dead celebreties and God himself...........??? Am I real? Does this thing I have inside me really exist? I don't know anymore....My name in greek means helper of mankind...does that mean anything? Was I really given a mission????????

I asked my friend in Italy to tell me what is reality? Asked him to think about it and get back to me.....I am not sure anymore, but know that the 3 dimensional kind is too harsh for me to live in. I am slowly dying and scared......

Thank God This Isn't Real After All

I was afraid I was being for real being called for a mission, but since I have not heard anything from Steve, I realize that this is all in my head.....maybe Joan of Arc was bipolar.....getting messages from God........thank u God, for letting me realize this is not reality....i feel asleep for a couple of hours and woke up and couldn't tell what was what.....I still get esoteric messages though.....

Monday, June 15, 2009

u know what? fuck it..

on second thought, stay out of my life...i am suffering demons....nothing more....this is not realllll......there is no way in hell i am getting in touch with u......this is not realllll................i am manic.....that is all.....i don't wanna ruin my life going public.......i would never get a job or mate..........please disregard earlier messages.......please this is not real.............

Oh I See, Not Real Then????????

Steve u will read this or I will die trying.........I have realized from looking at all of my stuff on my pages, that I have to be creative or die.................bipolar disorder is pain amplified.........plz know i am not wellllll.......please don't stalk me....i am lonely girl.....i am afraid.....go lakers.......spend some of that money from the parade to feed people----i just wanna know if this is real.......

Circlin" the drain steve...pls say hi on hotmail......

sick sick sick skcici yah, i be ill'n i aint chillin like a vllian....dig it? i wanna know this is real.....plzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.........

YaY LaKeRs WoRlD ChAmPiOnS

cant' write much now...just to say that i went to see my psych doc today and told him i am dying....he wants me to go to my health clinic to get physical.....lost about 10 lbs....told him i am not interested in taking meds anymore--they don't help, and that i have a death wish....meanwhile, fukkin kobe and the lakers are heros and everyone is bragging on the tv every 5 mins.....$2 mil for a parade weds...people in their cars, with laker flags waving....i have realized that i can make a multi media statement about being bipolar in la.....i will give steve til weds to verify history, and let his friends read this....hi robert, hi jamie,,, luv u guys, hi meg.....i am either crazy, or this is for real.......sos sos sos sending out an sos bono.............sting.........robin williams......bill gates......oprah.....dr phil.....madonna.......sheryl crow........paul mccartney.....elton john.....i am very esoteric.....robin please get in touch with i an angel sent from GOD???????????? u decide......... go lakers!!!!! please if this is for real, please leave me in peace in my ivory tower.....get in touch with me through blog or facebook or tagged.......please i am very afraid.......please don't hurt lamb of god.....i am a flower........boll weevil......scares me....:o)

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Vestiges of a car wreck

I have no idea what that means...I just write what comes to me. I feel like I am slowly dying.....Weak and illl. Full on manic high last night-----I am surprised I woke up and am still alive..fukkin mental, dude...when my friend and I walked the few blocks to see soloist yesterday, I told her I was weak and it was hard to get there...while watching movie,,,I was making loud comments and crying.....she and I were both crying cuz we are both bipolar and live an apt bldg full of mentals on disability....when u live in 3 and a half and sometimes 4 dimensions, everything is intensified in ur head.....I didn't know if I could make it back home, I was so ill... my friend asked me jokingly if she would have to carry me home on her back.....i have cancer of the spirit....I ask God to get me physically well so I can do my mission and get the word out about being homeless and mentally ill.....about the state of the world.......I wanna write about my life on the outside looking in and the effects of isolation has on the brain......maybe NASA could benefit from knowledge for further space explorations........I am isolated and detached from the world, yet live in total urban environs, with busy LA street right outside my is my mind that is a prisoner, and body follows.....I feel the pastor at my church is out to get me...he has learned my secret and is really evil and wants to stop me. I don't trust him...should I go to church and say hi to God and reboot soul, only to have evil pastor stalk me to my car and try and get me to join church? No, I will stay home.. Too weak to sit through service......

Saturday, June 13, 2009

prequel aduex

i gotta reiterate----keep reading older posts to get to my essay on being bipolar in la 1-7......caio amicos...

Steve Lopez, come in Steve

Are u reading me? Coming in loud and clear? Sending out echo locator pings to determine ur whereabouts ....Getting esoteric messages alot since going off meds and smoking high grade dispensary hydropnics.....feel 3 and half dimensions. mission statement----to reach as many as pos to regroup and reset mother earth....nuclear war , scorched earth back to stone age? Stand or Fall?    iran north korea china..... red skies at's the euro skies at night.........fixx.....

walked almost crawled to see the soloist at el cheapo movie theater down the street....god is sending me messagesssssss --dont' give up hope sandi......bring the masses together.....cosmic conciousness....creativity the, write, sing, enjoy love, help the planet and animals---give to the poor........stop holocaust of animal the earth. love god....u r not alone in this world....god loves u....steve lopez .......he's a cool guy actuallly !!!!!!!
hahahaha starring my bipolar baby robert d jr....he groks being mental..jamie f groks it....

sugar to steve, sugar to steve...don't let me lose ur signal......jamie and his glassy fire eyes...

ill and dying, but looking for work?

i've been languishing for weeks, losing weight from depression.. very reclusive and addicted.....playing my music loud and going delusional..pacing the floors, getting messages from god.....crying on my cyber boyfriends' shoulders about my bipolarness.....i feel like i have to confess my illnesss to everyone, like it is a sin or something....i am ashamed of my disease. i am embarassed to talk about it, but feel compelled, cuz i am in such pain....i chat with tons of hot looking guys from all over the over 2300 friends on tagged now. i return emails 24/7 it seems...fucking depressed as hell the whole time. not just mental either....physically i feel like i'm dying or something. getting scrawny looking. my clothes hang off me, and i can reach across my stomach and touch hands, i am that thin...

and then i go to job interview......i try to function in this too real world with its traffic and noise and millions of anonymous faces....i have been off my psych meds for 3 weeks now. manic......acting crazy...blowing kisses at men... this is how i used to be in my 20s and 30s....flirtatious.....and trying to find job at the same time.....weird....

Tuesday, June 2, 2009


It's official I can't pay my bills anymore. I have been trying for so long to hang on and pay off all my debt. Now, I just have to let it all go and let it ruin my credit I have been trying to build up since my bankruptcy in 1999. I cannot express how petrified I am of my dismal future. No money. No love. I cry on a daily basis. I don't know what's going to become of me. I don't want to be homeless and eating out of a garbage can. Should I be some rich man's girlfriend so I can pay my bills? I feel too ugly for anyone to want me. I feel like I am going to be circling the drain before long. To live alone and have no one to lean on or care what is happening to me is unbearable. I have known a life full of pain and wanting. I have never known love --i have never felt security. I it is me, myself and I out there against the World. I used to say Sandi vs the world, but it is no doubt vice versa. The World vs Sandi. The World ambivalent to Sandi. Dog eat dog. Survival of the fittest. I am aging quickly. I feel used up. Sink or swim Sandi. I feel leaden--how can I stay afloat in this cut throat town?

Thursday, May 28, 2009

C ya

My therapist Jane came over today. I told her about my death wish I have been living with. She asked me if I was serious, and I said yes, that it is all I think about. How I feel like my body is dead weight or full of lead. I asked her if she has other patients that complained about lethargy, and she said yes, and that how they all say how better they feel if they start to get out. I do not feel like getting out. I have been very reclusive and weak feeling. I have no clue how to get my life on track. I feel convinced I have nothing to offer the world, and that I am a big loser. It is sad.

My married lover Paul has moved his family to San Jose. His wife got a job up there. He said he'd see me in 2 weeks, after he is done moving them up there. He doesn't want to move up there, but they need the money. I am losing interest fast. What is the point of seeing this man? I love being with him, but he obviously wants to stay with his family. It hurts alot, but what can I do? Just forget him and move on. Only, I don't feel like moving on. I am stuck in neutral, not moving forward, just idling. As I get closer to my 50th birthday, I have become very embittered that I have no love in my life. Out of all these men I have been dating, I end up only being attracted to a married man that is unavailable. I miss him, but at the same time, I resent him just popping up into my life whenever he gets around to it. He knows I care alot about him. I think he is for sure avoiding me, even though he started the whole thing. I feel like a piece of ass.

Monday, May 25, 2009

No meds=major bitch mode

i think i may have to go back on my meds. I said fukkit last week and quit all of them. I felt very strange for a few days, and now all the major irritation is moving in. I remember feeling like this when I wasn't on meds before. Not only am I depressed, I'm killer irritable. It is awful. That I have to feel like this makes me very sad and angry. I just want to be normal like everyone else, and am failing miserable.

I have pretty much given up on ever finding a mate and the thought of living in this apt building full of mental patients the rest of my life makes me feel suicidal. I have been avoiding going to the mental health clinic because I am sick of being ill. I hate everyone right now. I resent happy normal people. I wonder what it is that I have done to deserve the pain and despair I have gone through for so many years. I hate life. I hate humans. I hate the world. I resent being stuck on this planet. I don't want to be here. I am stuck in amber. I am paralyzed. I have stopped functioning almost altogether. I am despondent that I have to spend my whole life all alone. I feel God hates me. Wants me to suffer. I hate Him too. I hate everything. I spit on all of u. Die all of u. I have spent the long Memorial Day weekend alone. No one gives a fuck about me.

Fuck off humanity. Fuck off world. Fuck off universe. U wanna know what it feels like to be bipolar and depressed? It is pure hell of the mind and spirit. My soul is dying and I want it dead. I wish to God I had the nerve to kill myself. It's like even with that I cant' be bothered. I can't be bothered to do anything. Live or die. I just exist day to day. Scrounge in my kitchen for something to chew and swallow when hunger pangs get to be too much. Despondent cuz I can't pay my bills anymore. Despondent cuz I want to die before I have to go live with my family. They wouldn't help anyway, but i am afraid I have gotten to the point where I can't take care of myself anymore. Maybe I should find homes for my pets. I really dont' care what happens to me or them. I just want to die and feel nothing anymore.

Thursday, May 21, 2009


i haven't been getting out very much at all these days. not well. cry alot. in pain alot. ignoring all my bills. staying stoned and lethargic. waiting for the ax to fall when i am absolutely broke and can't even pay my rent anymore. thinking about when i will eventually have to eat out of a garbage can cuz i can't function anymore and i end up in the street.

went to get my meds tuesday and wandered out and left without them. i get sick of sitting in that waiting room at the mental health clinic i go to. sick of seeing the fucking mental cases like me there. sick of being included in it all. sick of being sick. i hate looking at their ugly faces. i hate them all. hate going there and being questioned by the nurse every time i get my meds. getting weighed. seeing my psychiatrist and therapist. i hate it all. i'm not supposed to go without lamactil 2 days--so fucking what, none of those meds help anyway.

memorial day is coming up in a few days, and i will no doubt spend yet another holiday totally alone. every fucking holiday. every fucking birthday. every fucking valentine's day. i think about ways to kill myself all the time. pray to god to give me the guts to do it. who wants to grow old alone? that is where it is going for me. that is where i am headed.

i think about my married lover's life and of all the things in his life he has done with his wife and daughters. all the little things in life people take for granted, i hunger for that. the little touches of affection--the laughter. the adventures, the romance. even the boring aspects of life. making dinner, having a home and family. i have missed out on knowing it all. the day to day life of being a couple. i am jealous and can't understand what it takes to have a real life. i have always known my whole life that i was not living the way i should. that there is so much more out there. an authentic life. maybe i have no capacity for it. just don't know how to do it. i am lost. i am alone.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

drown me

i wake up crying
i go to bed crying.
even in my dreams i weep.
no one wants me. no one loves me.
my eyes are waterfalls.
i just want to sleep
and know no more

up late again

spent a miserable weekend alone. it is unbearable. i can't sleep at night cuz i can't sleep alone, and just pace the floor and listen to music. get high. feel distraught alot. cry. wonder why i have to live like this. all the usual noises in my neighborhood is driving me crazy. the sirens and the people outside shouting at each other. traffic all the time. i feel like i am going insane or am headed for a breakdown, and don't know how to stop it. i have so many men tell me daily on that stupid social network tagged that i am beautiful and an angel. that they would be so happy if i were their girlfriend. that i am the best thing ever, and i have no one to call my own. no boyfriend, no husband.

the bloom i felt for my married lover is defintely over. i just feel like a piece of ass now. i for some reason idealized him cuz i was infatuated, but i guess he is like all the other men out there that wants to get into my pants. i feel like a moron. i feel like i've been dumped cuz i haven't heard anything from him. i wonder what i did to make him disappear. i am pissed at myself for saying to him how much i care. i forget from past experience that i should never show a man that i am into him. it is ok with a man to be sexual, but not emotional. i should not let it bother me but it does. if i do not hear from him, then that is that. he is very afraid he will lose his family. well, he started it. he is the one who looked for me. he told me that i was what he wanted. oh, maybe not me, i realize, just the sex part. how many times will this happen to me before i realize i have to not show i care? men disappear when that happens.

you know what ? so what? i don't care. i wallow in it and let it go......

this is my personal journal, so i write what i am thinking about and feeling, and then i go on to post something else. i don't like to dwell on the grammar or syntax or the expressive formulations of ideas. i just write it down and move on......

sometimes i post this video by sugarcult, just to see if the universe is listening....kinda asking for help here...

please universe, send my soul mate! asap!!!!!! here is a good view for him to see when he lands here.....i am ever hopeful,
your friend,


dream, manly, and tender...... but with eyes only for me

Thursday, May 14, 2009


this is how i feel about life at this moment in time. nearing my 50th birthday. wanna be loved before it's too late.

Linkin Park--In The End

Time is a valuable thing
Watch It Fly By As
The Pendulum Swings

Watch It Count Down
To The End Of The Day
The Clock Ticks Life Away

It's So Unreal

You Didn't Look Out Below
Watch The Time Go
Right Out The Window

Trying to hold on
I didn't even know
I'd wasted it all.........

peace out

i have decided that i have a death wish. like i am manic now and staying high or drunk to avoid the inevitable. that i am going to put myself out of my own misery. i want to live and feel everything and shove it down into my unconcious for the final act. thoughts of a buying gun to put a bullet in my head. i hate this. i want to savor the beauty, not pour shit over it.

don't destroy the good thoughts, sandi. be mindful. spring breeze, warm skin, tasty kisses. u r not going to lose this and u r not going to die. u r going to live sandi. u r a good person. u r worth loving. ???????????? why does it make me cry to say this to myself? i want to live and block black thoughts. block the black dog.

whatever is true, whatever is fine, whatever is lovely, think on these.........

i am true, i am fine, i am lovely, i am worthy

God loves me.

Ain't Love Grand?

Weakling as I am, I gave in and started seeing my married Paul again. He's so fucking awesome. Hot hot hot.

Sunny, breezy, warm. Jacaranda trees casting dappled shadows on the pavement. Their lavender blossoms match my sexy low top. It is not lost on my lover. I am a colorful beautiful woman. Artistic in my atmosphere and environs. I wear skin tight jeans with a little bit of my g string sticking up. Just a hint. Just a taste. Black lace bra is a peek. I am totally aware of my sexuality and my powers of attraction. At the same time, I can't keep my eyes off his killer looks. I am infatuated and tell him so. His long dark silky shiny hair. Like a roman god. "You're so fine."

We ride his Harley to get lunch. We are so into each other. We make out in public. He caresses my ass in front of everyone. We are like a couple of horny teenagers. I haven't met a man in years and years that has made me feel like this. I tingle just thinking of him. When he takes off, he waves up at my window 4 stories up. Turns around on his Harley as he speeds off, and waves his leather clad biker glove. It amazes me that he knew I'd be looking out the window, watching him leave. He knew without looking up that I'd be gazing after him. Like Juliet aching soulfully after Romeo. Like a freakin' knight off to slay the dragon. It is how I see him as my hero, every time I come out of my apt. bldg. and see him leaning against his bike. Handsome from head to toe. Might as well be wearing a shiny metal armour. I have told all my friends this. I idealize him cuz I'm into him. I swear to God, I can see the plumes coming out of his helmet, and he's riding off on his steed.

I am so fucking esoteric all the time these days. I am into music so much. Like I hear it my head all the time. I jump around and dance and sing. I feel every beat. Every treble. Every warble ....... I am fucking soulful and creative. I dance and type and write lyrics God sends to me. I feel a little delusional but ultra aware but like cotton stuffed head full pot smoke. Freak show baby baby on the dance floor, a freak show. oooh oohh people come from everywhere and when the dance show begins they dance guy to guys and freaks to freak.. freak show baby baby on the dance how on the dance floor. oooh oooh shake ur body . move it.... ohah ohhha shake ur body. synthezixer. don;t stop dont go man all freaks frreak out. shake ur body shake ur body.............freak ur body.......... ohho hhoohhhs yeah it's a freak show.......1984-----The Bar Kays.....

I still stay stoned all the time. I feel guilt about our affair cuz I'm a good person, but at the same time, I would never give it up. I just want to feel loved so badly, I am starved for it.

It is wonderful to feel normal and fun and interesting and sensual. I am a closet Italian girl. I should have moved there years ago. I want to be artistic and mindful of the moment and feel my senses fully. Art lessons in Florence. Wine in Tuscany. Gondola in Venice. Forum in Rome. Vatican......Milan to see my rocker amico Franco... killer. Dream life.

Gotta get well. Gotta get over myself. Gotta try and get a little sober. Don't want to, but I feel sick and not well. I want to keep up with my new lover. I was sure I was alone, and now I have someone interested in seeing me. He said he was glad that I reconsidered seeing him. I had tried to stay away from him, but missed him too much. It is all or nothing with me sometimes.

Feast or famine. Raining cats and dogs, then drought. Cracks in desert floor. A small desert rose withering under blasting fiery sun. Crying out for just a tiny sip of water. That is me with love. I cry and beg the universe to send me love. I put it out to the universe. I said this to Paul the first time he came over to visit me, and he said "Well, it worked! Here I am!"

My hero.

Saturday, May 9, 2009

i want his sweet lips

i don't edit when i write this blog cuz i am very messed up from smoking. i am high, but i know what i'm saying. i think i am getting more ill and don't know what to do about it. i think about death always now. i don't want to go on living. i have stopped dating mostly, cuz i am not attracted to anyone.

i have thought about it, and i have dated writers, artists, doctors, lawyers,contractors, engineers, entrepeneurs, a producer, a financial analyst, an actor, a computer programmer. so i know i can attract these men, and they have some of the qualities i am looking for, but i feel nothing and i move on.

i don't know what i am looking for anymore. i thought if i dated rich men i would feel happy. i love the nice dinners and the intelligent conversations, but i don't want these men. it is very hard that i am infatuated with a married man. he has what i want. creative, intelligent, kind, sensitive, gentle, responsible, devoted, and handsome on top of it. i liked putting my head on his shoulder. what woman wouldn't want him? and he was faithful until he reached out to me. he was looking, and he found me. he started it. i miss him. dammit!!! i feel like a love sick teenager.

car show

went to the cool classic car show today. back home. thought about paul the whole time i was there cuz i had asked him to go to it with me. beautiful gorgeous cars and motorcycles. stage set up with some kind of off the wall beauty contest going on. lots of tattoos and hispanic culture. pretty cool. cops yelling at everybody to get out of the road so the busses can pass.

i am semi-aware of everything, but i mention several times to my friend that is walking with me that i will not remember much about it. it was all a blur. very depressed. too depressed to feel much---i feel blank, like cardboard, but at the same time in pain in solar plexus ==in heart. brought along a camera to take pix but felt too ambivalent to care. i have got to stop this obsessive thinking. it is always with me. the racing thoughts, the negative mind set. the suicidal ideation.

i am on the verge of getting back in touch with paul. i am trying hard to stay away from him. it is hard. i think about the good times we could have together, and the affection i have for him and he for me. i can tell he cares about me. it is stressful, cuz my ex that has just got out of jail keeps calling and emailing me, and i have got to stay away from him. he's is a terrible person. i can do better.

i want my paul cuz he was gentle and sweet with me. what am i going to do about this? he is married and in love with his wife of 19 years. he is entrenched in his relationship with her, yet she is trying to pull away from him and move on or just fuck around. i don't want him if he sees me as revenge on her. i have told him that. he says i deserve to be happy and that i am a wonderful woman. i want his soft hair in my face again. i want his sweet lips.

Friday, May 8, 2009

kurt loves courtney

i just remembered that when paul and i were hanging out after we made love, i was sitting on my bed, and he said that in that light i looked like courtney love from hole. now, i asked if that was a good or bad thing? she is a heroin addict after all. he said i looked like her in sid and nancy, the movie with gary oldman plays sid vicious. gee thanks, i think. she was a heroin addict playing a heroin addict. or, i can take it as a compliment, cuz she was lucky to be wed to awesome kurt cobain. he was so deep and full of feeling. great songwriter. raw. coarse and screaming his pain. he wrote copiously in his journals as i have done. now i bipolar blog. i have to get it out somehow. living in my ivory tower 4 stories up from a busy intersection in my congested part of LA, i have to rant, so i come here to my blog. i let some people read it. it is very personal though. i am shy about telling the world about my personal feelings and wonder if they matter anyway.

rock climbing guy jeff is coming over sunday. and tomorrow, there is a killer classic car show here in my neighborhood. they close off two streets and there's tons of cool classic cars with beautiful paint jobs. very colorful and my kind of eye candy. plus,, they have food and a stage where bands play. had the munster mobile, and the bat mobile, and herbie the love bug last year. thousands of people, so it is better i walk there. oh yeah, i had asked paul to go to this with me. bummer. i will think of him tomorrow. he's a cool guy.

Ozz man lyrics

there are no impossible dreams
there are no invisible seams
each night when the day is through
i don't ask much, i just want u

there are no unachievable goals
there are no unsaveable souls

there no indisputable truths
and there ain't no fountain of youth
each night when the day is through
i don't ask much, i just want u

I miss him!!

i have been thinking about my ex married lover paul all day today. how handsome and sweet and passionate. how when we rounded pacific coast highway on his harley and santa monica beach came into view. his hair whipping in my face. me biting it and pulling with my teeth. me wrapped around him, hanging on for dear life. it was awesome. at that moment, i told God that if we crashed at that moment and i died right there, i'd die a happy woman. hangin' out on the coast, drinking and cuddling and watching a school of dolphins jump straight north. even saw a seal. watched pelicans land and take off. funny, i live near the beach, and had never seen so much wildlife action. like it was a show just for paul and me. i felt so romantic and sweet sixteen with him. he says, "yeah, we're going to have some good times, babe." i take it with a grain of salt, cuz he's married. he says we have all the time in the world. that he believes in long lifetime friendships. i miss him so much. tears spring to my eyes, and i feel sadness and loss. oh well, gotta move on. how is an affair with a married man going to help me? my friend said that is nothing but bad karma. i felt a little guilt, but felt it was our affair and we had a good time. but then reality kicks in and u have to turn away from ur dreams sometimes. bye paul. i would have prefered to have made love to u a few hundred more times.

i just got a call from the guy i went out with the other night to the sushi bar. told him i wasn't over my little fling with paul yet, and that i have alot of stress in my life. could we be friends. blah blah, he says he's disappointed. whatever.

met yet another guy yesterday for hot chocolate at the corner coffee shop yesterday. he's a rock climber. like serious one. he hands by a finger from mountains and shit. he's got awesome pix of him scaling super high rocks and bridges. he thinks i'm kinda awesome. no, i said i was awesome, and he agreed. he's a hippy like me. laid back CA dude. got the surfer dialect. been climbing for 20 years. he's wiry and thin, no fat on him. says he has a cool house a mile from the beach in thailand, where he plans to retire one day. says he has videos of himself climbing, and has i name. i told him that i would be eating his dust, he's so fit. i am feeling ill and tired all the time. how can i keep up with him? he likes my pad. how i decorated it with all my thrift shop items and stuff i've found in my alley behind my apt. bldng. i have a knack for eyeing cool items. i totally can resell this stuff, but don't have the money space or motivation. i plan on beating this disease or die trying. getting older and my 50th birthday is doing my head in though. losing my looks. wanna find my mate soon. i am looking for my true love.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Back To The Brink

gotta be real. gotta say this sandi. u r an addict again. fuck me. i am dead woman.

every time i go to the mary jane dispensary i am very upbeat and pleasant. i am bubbly. i am playing a part. i laugh alot. i have an infectious laugh. i saw one young guy in his 20s smile when i laughed. i am a southern belle. charming the males. a handsome island dude working behind the counter is charming right back. i tell him to recommend a strength of smoke to deaden emotional pain. and aches and pains of depression. sativa he says. he is cute and sweet and makes sure he gives me a 5% discount. makes sure he shows me just how he stapled the bag just exactly in the middle. he is in his late 20s early 30s? he tells me as i go that we are all bipolar. that we all live in stress and that we have to forget the past and don't worry about the future. just live in the now i said that i would try that. i had heard this before from jesus and buddha. not a bad team, right? i am classic bipolar. up and down. in and out. outside in.. i said earlier i would contemplate suicide over salad. close. appetizer. but as we were leaving for my date to take me home, i said to him that i am being mindful of the night and the atmosphere. the full moon, the neon red and green wabi sabi sign. the pretty girl with braided hair and long dress walking down the street. the art gallery next door. i tired to be mindful and thankful for someone coming into my life briefly to let me know i'm wanted. i don' t want him though. that is the problem

And, I'm Back From Date

just wanted to state first of all that unequivocably that if i couldn't listen to my tunes and blast it in my face, i would fucking put a bullet in my brain. i have some kind affinity for over the top things. loud music, crazy art--mad dash through wonderland.

my date and i chat. jackson pollack we talked about. he asks me my favorite artists--van gogh of course being my bipolar hero, gaugin, monet manet, la trec, mary cassett, pissaro, dejas, frida kahlo, diego rivera, picasso, jackson pollack, warhol, the fucking odder the better, that is my head. that is what it is all about. i am esoteric when high on pot.

i am so sensitive to every thing. i experience music in every pore. i dance. i feel jaded. i feel not so pretty anymore. i remember how pretty i looked when watching myself in mirror onstage as exotic dancer. i don't like losing my looks. my looks made me money. my looks attract men. helps get me a job. it is hard living in LA single and looking for a mate at age 50. i am introverted and solitary most of the time. the clinic sends my therapist to me. i tell some of my online friends i am bipolar. some i ask to read my blog. it is too hard for some to read cuz they are from other countries.

i have a mad crush on this italian doctor who i chat with sometimes. he is so handsome and smart and is a doctor. he travels around helping others, like doctors beyond borders. i have told him he is my ideal man. smart, handsome and dark and italian, well traveled, philanthropic. adventurous. very married with two kids, but is wanting to chat with me anyway. wants me to buy a video camera so we can chat and see each other. he tried to help me over instant messaging to set up skype account so i could see him. didn't work. bummer. he is hot looking.

but i digress...

back to date. went to hip trendy sushi restaurant in venice called wabi sabi. i had been there before on yet another date. that is how i knew about the place. the street abbot kinney is the main drag of venice. funky and trendy shops and boutiques and restaurants, coffee shops and bars. never experienced walking abbot kinney. always in my car passing by. very cool place. lots of galleries. some wierd art. i saw one with a baby on fire --ok, where does that idea spring from. some art is stupid. i said, let's just keep walking.

that is after dinner. during dinner, he is very knowledgeable about the history of film as i am. he is spouting tales i have heard many times about historical fiqures i have taught myself about. " yes, i fucking know that cinco de mayo celebrates mexico's independence from france. yes maximilian was taken out and shot by civilians." i think to myself. i don't say it though. i am beginning to get a little peeved at his knowledge overload. like he was trying to impress me. shit he's gonna want to kiss me and hold me!

the guy is educated. went to prep school. father was in show biz. i find i am not attracted to him. we drink sake. we cinco de mayo, to israel, to haifa. we toast billy wilder, one of my favorite old directors, we toast i forget several more times. i didn't get drunk enough though. he is interesting. he is successful. he has nice watch and brand new SUV. he plays nothing but rock for me on his car stereo. we eat tons of sushi. elaborate looking. very artistic. one looks like a dragon. i saw his face when he looked at the bill, and he looked shocked. i just think, oh shit, he's gonna want to kiss me. oh fuck, i wanna go home. we held hands and walked and talked. i kept thinking how i wish it was paul walking the street with me, commenting on all the unique places.

he brought me two dozen pink roses, my favorite flower. he makes me want to go home. he is for someone else, not me. but he wants to see me again. some old humphrey bogart movie is playing at the billy wilder theater on the campus of UCLA next month. he asked if i wanted to go. "maybe i say", no i said a tentative yes. i say "but we don't know each other well yet, and i am a shy person that has to take it slow." but if i am into a guy i do him, so fucking what. i either do them too soon or not at all.

so i tell him i want to go home. it is only 9pm and that i want to call my mother. he drives me home. i have tons of sushi left to bring home with me, cuz he ordered so much. i feel kinda guilty about it. i mean we had tons of sushi. and tempura. so i just want to go home. he walks me to my gate of the building. i say, well, thank u so much, i really appreciate, blah, blah. blah.

i don't encourage him to linger or walk me to my door which is 4 stories up. he didn't take the hint, and proceeded to accompany me to my apt. i felt very put upon and uncomfortable. maybe he thought he was entitled to something cuz he spent money on me? i don't know. i didn't want him here. i have a small apt. and he was a big man. my space felt invaded. he wanted to hang around. he poured water in the sink and cut the ends off the roses. i want him to leave, i feel stalked. i had seen him staring at my lips during dinner. he had tried to kiss me on our walk around venice,and i ducked away. i finally say, u know, i really need to call my mom, she's been sick and it's getting late. i went and opened the door and stood there, waiting for him to leave. i ducked from him again, but then thought , what the hell and said, i will kiss u now. i pecked at him, and he tried to pull me close, i shut the door in his face. what can i say? nothing but revulsion at the thought of him kissing me. meanwhile, my loser ex boyfriend carlos is trying to get back into my life. he just got out of jail. i hate his guts. he is a meth addict and a low life. he sent me an email, asking for another chance. yeah right. die asshole. womanizer. i just want to find a good man THAT I AM ATTRACTED TO and get married and have a life like anyone else.

this dude tonight quoted mark twain to me, talked about famous mexican muralist on olvera street and i just wanted to leave. this man can provide a better life for me. i have had several men say they want me and would help me or take care of me. why do i always chase them away? because i like funky guys. off beat guys, but stable guys. not drug addicts. a working artist. that i am hot for , and him for me. i don't want a business man. i want paul. he is married. i was his revenge fuck to get back at his cheating wife. i sent him an email and told him off. told our mutual friend to deliver a message to him for me: fuck off and die. he started the ball rolling. he asked me out. he pursued me. he is a pussy to me now. he went running back to her. we could have had some awesome times. he wanted it his way. me on the side and him still married. no thank u. it is one thing for him to hint he wants to leave his marriage, and another where he talks like her like he's madly in love with her even after 20 years. she must be a good fuck? i don't know. i think he doesn't get that much, i don't care, but he reached out to me to find love and sex. so he must have not been getting tons that he would have gotten with me. his loss.

Jesus Christ I Can't Deal

15 mins til blind date. how many in the last few months? i do not feel up to this. i am crying. fuck he just called on his way. he has a couple of business doing something or other in film biz. i feel like death inside. i am such a fool. why i let that paul come near me i don't know. price of couple of jousts in the sack? severe and blinding pain and many tears. feel stupid and pathetic. i am a head case these days. terrible stress with money too. fukkit.

Just Another Piece Of Ass

i gotta a date in 2 hrs, and i do not want to go. i am not looking forward to it. i hate blind dating. it sux. i was happy in my deluded way of thinking that paul felt something for me. then i realized after chatting with friends that no matter how good he seems, he is just another man out for a piece of ass on the side. i guess i am qualified now for that mission. feel alot of pain and went and bought as stoney a pot as pos and have been hitting my bong. now i am sick and ill and stoned out of my gourd. i plan on drinking as well. i feel weak and sick. yeah, i be ILL"N. when u r n emotional pain, it drains the life out of u out of me. like all my energy has drained out of my feet and circling the hole. i feel my aura streak with black and gray. i am putrid. i think about death over salad. he will chat and my mind will wander as i sip my wine. i am not attracted to most men. maybe all men? i don't know. it is very hard for me to trust. very hard.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

News Flash: Man Stays With Wifey

yeah, saw this coming and didn't avoid it anyway. something about me that has got to wring every last ounce of pain out of a relationship. there was none with the married lover, obviously, cuz it's over before it has even started. he decided he wanted to be with her after all, and sayanora sandi. thanks paul. thanks for the pain inflicted!! really appreciate it!! i ask him today when he so torn about what is happening in his life--well how do u feel about me paul? "feel about u? i'm married!!!" wow. no shit. thanks for clarifying that! thanks for the update! wouldn't have realized that until u pointed it out to me in ur blount and hurtful way!!! i think i mentioned that fact to u the first time u asked me out!

guess i was the piece of ass on the side to get back at wifey. she's run around on him, now it is his turn. only he doesn't want to do that-he wants to stay with her. it was him that set the ball in motion to start seeing me. he asked me out. whatever. he has karma to deal with now.

thanks for the skewers of pain, paul!! and the tears!! i feel even more miserable now cuz i felt something for u. that rarely happens for me. to feel affection for a man. so thanks for making me cry --didn't have anything better to do but go around in my galoshes and mop up tears. and ruminate suicide.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

Don't Ask Me What I'm Doin' Cuz I Don't Know

After crying two days and trying to say goodbye to my married lover in my heart, I was feeling a little better. I was chatting with my long distance friend in Italy when my married lover called me. Said he wanted to go for a coffee and talk. Said he hadn't slept all night. I let him come over and we went to breakfast. He says that he wants to stay in my life even if we are just friends. Said he wanted to see me on my terms and at my pace. Whatever will make me comfortable. He is very sweet. I told him I had a crush on him. He says he knows and won't break my heart. My friend told him I am fragile and to not break my heart too. I have been on my own so long that to me it is Heaven to get some positive attention directed at me. I suppose I am going to see him after all. I am on an emotional rollercoaster. He said that he didn't feel any guilt about sleeping with me, cuz his wife ran around on him last year. I tell him to please not talk about her. I feel jealous when I hear her name.

Friday, May 1, 2009

I feel like fuckin' death man

I am so miserable about telling my married lover i can't see him anymore. I told him better to cry some now than to cry oceans later. I feel these fucking skewers of pain stab me between my eyes and sear my brain. I squeeze my eyes shut and cry out from the pain. I should not feel so bad after only a few dates with a man, but I feel that I had finally found someone that I could believe in and love. It is hell--unrequited love. I feel punched in the solar plexus. I have to keep smoking bong hits and going back to bed. i can't take being this depressed. I feel suicidal. I pick up things and hit myself hard in the head. I cry buckets. I feel so sick and weak and useless. I don't know why I have to feel like this. Why can't I be strong like everyone else on this planet? There's people out there worse off than me. I still miss him and wish I could be with him. I think about what are life could be together. Then I think about the life he's already had with his wife. He isn't going anywhere. Like he said, he wouldn't have sought comfort with someone else if things were different in his relationship with her. That stung when he said that. Oh well, men are clueless. I have to keep drinking water to stay a little bit more hydrated after crying so much. I am dragging my ass off to bed again. I really want to die. This is no joke...

Thursday, April 30, 2009

My heart is in nuclear winter right now

After my married lover left the other night, there was a nuclear strike on my heart. I have cried almost non stop for two days now. My heart is as barren and as cold and lonely as the artic wastelands. I am trying to get myself together a little cuz my therapist is coming over today to see me. I called her early today and asked her to please not come over. She is coming anyway, to inspect the damage I suppose. Like a claims adjustor. Only this is my soul in disrepair. I have been in bed, lanquishing all day in hell. I feel like I've got the lethal swine flu that is going around now, except it is all emotions. I feel just as sick as if I have the flu. Depression is a killer. I feel smothered and flattened by it. I don't eat. I forget to breathe sometimes cuz I just can't be bothered. Automation kicks in, and I drag in a shallow breathe. When I cry to my friends, they say, "Well you knew where this road was leading you.". I know, but he was worth it. As bad as I feel now, he was worth it.

My married lover says he is willing to keep seeing me, and would do his best to make time for me, but I feel like is beating a dead horse. He says his daughters are his number one priority, and to keep them from any kind of emotional harm, he will do anything in his power to keep his relationship with their mother safe. And if that means eating crow sometimes, then he will do it. I tell him, of course I understand that, and to go and eat crow and go back to his wife--that he is a good man, and that I only dreamt of having a man like him in my life. Faithful, kind, sweet, caring. I could see in many different ways by his unconcious acts with me that he is that way in reality. After he left the other night, my friend brought up half a birthday cake and I ate most of it. I just stuffed it down. She joined in, and it was gone fast. Living in the tower of sadness as we do, we give into it sometimes.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

An Exercise In Futility?

I am very confused these days. I have been chatting with hundreds of hot european men that say beautiful things to me, and I am alone and no boyfriend. WTF!!!!??? Stinks man.

So, I have given in and have started dated this hot married guy. We have mutual crushes on each other. He is handsome from head to toe. Beautiful silky dark brown hair. Long and falling into my face. Soft dark eyes, penetrating. Of course, I am prone to stare at dark men anyway. They are all so exotic to me. Nice firm tall body. His arms tighten around me, strong and gentle at the same time. His deep kisses take my breath away. He says the same of my smooches. I like sucking his tongue. He likes my lower lip.. Says it is soft. I like kissing him everywhere.

I don't feel like this with most men. It is a pleasure to feel reciprocal affection. My nerves tingle all over my body. His kisses blaze a trail to my triangle. I get hot just thinking of him. I set up a big mirror next to my bed to catch everything. I am a little kinky and like to get spanked. He is very passionate. Smells good. Tastes good. Feels good and deep. I quiver all over when he touches me. Can't stop moving. He is sweet and gentle. He says sweet things that I believe he means.

He is creative and smart. He sits at my computer and writes song lyrics for this 13 minute movie his friend has done. I tell him that he is so handsome for the 10th time today. I feel like I am gushing, but don't want to stop flooding him with compliments. How much I appreciate him. How sexy he looks in his jeans and sweater--barefoot and texting on his cell. I stare at him and tell him that it isn't often that I have a handsome man sitting in my living room. I tell him that I am just going to enjoy myself while I have him, because it may end at any time. Oh!! Here comes first pang of pain and sadness.

Long story short, when he leaves, I try to be brave. He is going home to his wife and two little girls. He is a good dad, I can tell, the way he talks about how lovely his girls are. Pang! Dagger to heart. His wife is a successful editor and writer. She is buff. She is a go getter. She runs miles and miles. She is married to my hot honey. He does not know what to do about his relationship with her. She has burnt out on him after 19 yrs of marriage. He tells me that he wants to be with me. He says that it is always good when you first get into a relationship, and we must take it slow. He tells me a joke about how you can tell the difference between lovers and old married couple.

I feel guilt about maybe taking him away from his family. I feel a little jealous, but I understand where he is coming from. He is honest about it. Said she has broken his heart. Says she stays out all night sometimes and has seen her slip her phone number to men. I am not blaming her, I don't know. How can you love someone and be with them 24/7 for so many years?

At least I know he is a good man. He was faithful 19 years and is devoted to his family. Maybe I should just date married men? I have always turned them down, but at least they know how to have a relationship. I asked him where he had been all my life. Oh yeah! Happily married. Pang! Dagger to heart. I wonder why I have been left out of life and love.

LA men are so stupid and selfish. All my loser boyfriends try to come back to me, and I won't let them. They realize after I am totally done with them for good that I am a good woman to have. I am kind and considerate and giving. An animal lover. I am very child like and small. I have tiny feet. He tells me I have nice firm breasts and nice ass. I email him today and tell him that I felt pain when he left me last night. That I am torn in my feelings, and that I will stay his friend and continue to date ass wipe single boring men. Maybe I will meet my match one day. God, I feel so sad.

I usually tell married men when I turn them down that to me, dating them is an exercise in futility. She gets everything. I get the sex and zip. I love the passion, but he has a home to go to. I am dreaming of him. Seeing him at work. Damn. I am too romantic for my own good.

Friday, April 24, 2009

Pondering about everything under the sun

my therapist was saying yesterday that i know about many different things. well, i have always had a curious mind. i remember at age 5, taking the sunday funnies and drawing perfect replicas of dennis the menace, snoopy and charlie brown. i began reading our collection of encyclopedia britannica at an early age. and i remember when i found the ancient myths of rome and greece, i read with greed. my therapist asked me if i'd ever had my iq tested. i suppose so. when i was 16, i took my GED for my high school equivalency. they called me into the counselor's office and told me that i should be in college. i didn't know what to do with that information, other than say thank u. i never imagined myself actualizing it. i never had the balls or the self esteem. walking onto a college campus was terrifying to me. still is. i was in my 30s before i began taking college classes. i have not taken many classes, but in my business class, my teacher told me several times that i was a good writer. said to the class one day that what took some students pages to describe something, i made succintly (however u spell it) in one page. i am so shy, i cringed when she called attention to me. one day we had to get up in front of the class and give a little lecture. i fretted for days, sick from fear. i almost quit the class, thinking with horror of all those eyes staring at me. those eyes rapt with attention. horrifying!

so i chat with friends from greece--they say how beautiful i am. i say i'm a history freak. i asked one greek, " and am i ur blonde venus rising on a half shell?" he says that helen of troy had my powers of attraction. that made me feel good. i love ancient tales of days past. i tell another that is named paris----r u the paris that ran the foot race to win the golden apple and my princess hand? he says he is. or fight the minotaur. i tell my new muscovite friend from russia that we must practice perestroika. haha!! i am funny with the irony.

i think of morgan le fey and young merlin. i ruminate on the disease of king george the 3rd, who went mad and had purple pee. i watch the history channel and military manuevers of ancient battles. WW2 i have read about many times. the bataan death march. uss enterprise and her many battles in the pacific. how napoleon's troops lost 8000 horses before venturing very far into russia, how he was so confident of france's win, that his troops wore their summer uniforms marching into russia's frozen winter. how hitler in his arrogance made the same mistake and suffered mounting losses from his troops as well. i think of roosevelt, churchill and stalin sitting fatly around--corpulent and old, discussing how to end hitler's reign. i think about hitler's brutal father who beat him mercilessly, and wonder how a sensitive water colorist like adolf could turn into such a monster. it's like i never stop thinking for one minute. always thinking something, achieving nothing.

This is me???

I took this really glam shots of myself and put them on my profile on tagged. com. to me it is not me at all. i am without makeup most of the time, and age is beginning the creep on my skin. deep wrinkes next to mouth and between eyes. i smooth out some with beautify tool on photobucket.

i have started a friend i met from tagged, and when we met in reality and away from virtual world, i asked him if i looked like my photos. he said i did. i find that hard to believe. i chatted with my therapist jane today. i mean, it's like i can't conceptionalize myself in 3 dimensions. i look at myself and see nothing but beauty flaws. i am an ugly/beautiful girl. one day beauty, next bad hair day egyptian mummy look. one day young, the next day hag. it is confusing.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Well, duh!!!

sometimes it takes me millinea howver u fuking spell it to realize something about myslf. Like all the times i went to bars and jumped on pool tables and danced any where and evrywhere, that i might have been manic?? hahaha. no shit sherlock! i'd flash my green undies on st. patrick's day. go up to a hot dude and lay a big wet one on him. drape myself across men's laps. course, i was a stripper too, don't forget that. narissisim howrv u fuking at its's finest. naricissist. narcisssim. oh well. hard to type when u have 30 bong hits a day. mustnt let anyone read this. i will get busted or something. i am so fucking sad.

My Hot Italian Virtual Lovers

I chat on with some of the hottest men on the planet--my fave bueno stupindeco, bellismisma whatever ca. Italian virtual lovers. I get dizzy looking at them. No one should be allowed to look that good and not carry a license.! haha-----Just wanted to point out to myself later that now U R Xtremely HIGH gal!! It is 5 pm. And u smoke bong hits all day every day. Just want to say---hey sandi---u a druggie?/ herbal remedy. reclusion amplified. chat taking on torture chamber in head. hate typing non stop. i want a boyfriend dammit!! a hot one!!! i am worth it. universe, listen--i am sending good vibrations to u universe. jung's collective unconcious. earth mind, billions strong. if we all over the world at the same time contemplated ridding earth's woes would just be of one mind for that moment. we could all move mountains. mother earth has lay lines and magic worlds, vortexes, why wouldn't her children not be part of her mind. hey stunning vision of that. i am fucking clear headed but high and esoteric. yeah, one mind. cosmic mind. sending out an sos to GOD at the same time the world over. maybe mother earth father god will listen if we r loud enough. ages past there were millions of sacrifices in blood to the gods. baal, even old testament god. mayans aztecs carthaginia, etc, blood sacrifice. now we can just think it into being. all one mind. all good. the animals live by air currents, inner gps, antennae, homing instincts..... why can't we? cuz our fucking mind games get in the way. the prejudice and hatred and cyber sex. haha gianni. ..haah. i killl me sometimes. ok caio.

Monday, April 20, 2009

aww shit, here i go again-fuckin' waterworks

All day i hear " Oh Sugar, you are so beautiful, i can drown in ur eyes!" No body says, hi sandi, wazzup dawg? i feel deep for u. i love u. No , it is "U r so hot!" I want to be loved for ugly me. No one cares. I have been crying a river of sorrow the past few days, dreaming of distant lands and pining after married men. I just don't know what it takes to want me. I thought i was smart. I thought I might be cute and sweet and funny. i feel love for animals and nature and art and science and history. always i hear from these men, " Oh yeah, my wife is wonderful--smart, clever." i don't understand that if they are so great why r these men chatting with me. i am the brides maid and never the bride. i am on the outside looking in. they have a husband that is good to them and treats them right and is sexy and intelligent and has a good job. why cant i find someone to love me too?? I think I'll cry some more. feel used up though. feel sick. head stuffed up from buckets of tears. :o(

Yeah, You Got That Right

I want to do drugs. I want to drink alcohol. i want to OD. I want to burn myself. I want to cut myself. I want to be sexually abused. I want to hang myself. I want to swim, I want to climb, I want to fly. I want to be me. Not a facsmile of. I am beautiful and sensitive. I want to be nasty. I want to have wings. I want to wear spike heels. I want to glorify God. I want money. I want happiness. I want love. I want patience and understanding. I want hugs and kisses. I dream electric and speak volumes. I write sonnets--I pray odes to the ancient gods. I am quiet. I am hysterical. I am me. I hate me. I want me dead. I want worms to crawl out. I want to be comfortably numb. I want peace and joy and art and travel and love love love. I want a home. I want to feel secure. I wish I were dead. I dream electric. I cry rivers of pain. I travel astrally. I seek indulgence. I hate me. I wish I were not scared be brave. I want to be a wife and be cherished. I want to be treated like the gold that I am. I want to see Italy and Greece. I want to drink in the cultural atmosphere. I want to walk through ruination and ages past. I want to see ancient concrete. I want to see lovers dead and embracing in the catacombs. I want peace and love and green grass to lie on. My head in my lover's lap. His gaze is intense and full of depth. And humor and sweet love. I want to embrace and know joy on a cellular level. I want to chat about Dante, Machiavelli, Dickens, Rudyard Kipling, Rodan, Pericles, Aristotle, Alexander The Great, The Phoenicians, The Egyptians. The Mayan. Peruvian Andes. Native Americans. The Last of the Mohicans. Robert Downey Jr. Jackson Pollack Meyer Lansky, Florence Nightgale, Alexander Graham Bell, Nights In White Satin. No nothing do nothing. I am nothing. I eat dirt and piss, nor shit grave. I dance for hours. I crash and cry and call for help. I wonder if my cats will eat me after I do it and the stink hasn't permeated the apt. complex yet. I am liquid putrefication. I cannot spell anymore. I am tired and weak. I cry at night. I stay up all night. I feel sick all night. I smoke pot all night. I am tired and sick --sick and tired of being sick and tired. The End.

   "normal" people don't speak my language....vice versa

i feel like they are talkin 
       in a language 

         i don't speak and they are 
talkin it to me

Where Is My True Love????

I feel so horrible. I am crying. I have so many men emailing me on my tagged profile, it's not even funny. I return emails all day and night. I meet men that are talented and intelligent and have good jobs. But guess what? Most of them are married. I have no boyfriend of husband to call my own, and I am so lonely and miserable.

Sunday, April 19, 2009


"To BE gorgeous and high and true and fine and moist and sticky and lovely, you have to BELIEVE you are gorgeous and high and true and fine and moist and sticky and lovely, and I BELIEVE IT."
 Stephen Fry

Always! Never had a doubt....


Saturday, April 18, 2009

Tastes Like Dust

Gravity drags me down man
Eatin' Dirt And Pissin' Grave.

Here I am, where are you God?

I come to by blog to watch my videos and cry sometimes. A ghost without a home.

Puttin' It Out To The Universe....

I am done being alone and unhappy. I deserve to be loved like any other. I deserve to be cherished and adored. I am a diamond in the rough. So I am putting it to the universe that I am ready for my life to begin now. To know love. To feel wanted and happy.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009


I gotta say that I've just about given up on meeting a decent man in this town to have a real relationship with. Met this guy at Starbuck's today down by the beach. An actor. That didn't impress me, cuz they're usually out of work. This one said he was a working actor, bad he totally made me skin crawl. Ewwww! Just thinking about him gives me the creeps. I meet these men from, and so far am disappointed by what I have met up with. Some of been nice, bringing gifts and roses. Taking out to awesome and expensive restaurants. Good food, good wine. I feel nothing. They are just not my type. This guy today was obnoxious. I told him that he was mental, then said he was odd. He didn't care. He had a booger half hanging out of his nose which totallly nauseated me. I was too polite to say anything. He keep staring at my breasts and throwing little wadded up pieces of napkins down my cleavage. He even asked to see my nipple, I told him fuck u, let me see ur nut. I like to put men in their place when they're being dicks. I don't have time and patience for low lifes. I've been there, done that, not going back to that. Ewww! I'm still grossed out! I said good luck to him and took off. Loser.

Friday, April 10, 2009

Prequel to the prequel --haha

I just have to come back and reiterate the fact that to read this entire blog, which is numerous pages long, keep going to older posts until u get to the end. Click on the url addresses to go to links about bipolar. Click back arrow to come back to my blog. If you go to my myspace page, add me as a friend. Or let me know what u think about my blog. Kisses, fellow miscreants! Peace out. xx

The Living Hell And Slow Death Of Bipolar Disorder

Funny how not so long ago, bipolar was named manic depression. Psychiatry now calls it bipolar disorder to be more politicallly correct. PC is the norm now. Multi culture world --multi cultural city, LA. No labels. Now everyone is "challenged" instead of the stupid names from before: retard, crazy as a loon, mental case, basket case, etc.... I stare at my print of Van Gogh above my computer as I write this. An idiot savant, he? Painting in a frenzy day after day, making himself sick, wearing himself thin, bouncing off the walls. Chasing Gaugin out the door ( oh yes, Polynesia! Scantily clad maidens with frangi pangi in their hair...), cutting off an ear to give as a present to one of his favorite prostitutes.. Yeah, sounds pretty wack, but guess what? He's a MANIC DEPRESSIVE. He rides the star beams to outer and inner space and back. He is red carpet ride. Swimming through the colors. That is how I see the world---like I am intensely aware of everything, colors---sounds---movement----smells-----oh yes, smells. What is the name of the condition where you can smell or taste colors? Something --kesia. Like it hurts to be alive. LIke it rushes through my pores and into my bloodstream. Beating in my heart and pounding my brain. Reality overload. Reality too real sometimes. Must retreat. Most run from onslaught. LA is too busy. Too many people -too many cars. Too much attitude. Sensitive person must hide. Artistic sensitive person must paint, write, sing, dance, take photos, act, or go wack. Van Gogh HAD to paint. He had to get the shit out. He had to seize the brush and splash vivid life onto blank canvas. He saw too much. He felt too much. He starved too much. Drank too much. Had sex too much. Classic signs of bipolar. The other day I picked up a ball point pen and stabbed myself in my arm a few times. It is something I can't help but do. I want to kill the thing inside that hurts.

I self medicate with my medical mary jane. I am a certificate carrying licensed mary jane smoker. The beach front doc at the THC (yes, THC, as in what's the main ingredient of mary jane. ) clinic I went to was totally cool and young. Nice dark hair--friendly. He says this is his first job working out of the back of a jewelry store on the boardwalk on Venice Beach. I asked him if he was a real doctor, and he assured me he was. Listened to my bipolar woes. Said that I am the perfect patient for medical mary jane. I told him about my nightmares and how I was trying to wean myself off Cymbalta and Trazadone.

I've been on Traz for years now and could not sleep a wink until I took one to drift off. I have been off both meds for a few weeks now, and although I stay up way too late, I don't get the awful nightmares every night like before. I self medicate too much though. I want to be blotto 24/7 to not feel anything. I smoke til my lungs hurt. I smoke bongs or toke on joints. I smoke joints like they are cigarettes, inhaling deeply and often. Most people just have one or two tokes, but I gotta Bogart it. My psychiatrist doesn't know about the dosage I imbibe, but I hint to my therapist about it. I don't want to be lectured yet again about it from him. He is a nice old guy. Very understanding. He's been my Psych doc for a few years now. The mental health clinic I go to is awesome. They even send out my therapist to see me here at home. But, I digress....

....Anyway, I love Venice Beach. Very Bohemian. Very Jim Morrison and The Doors. Skaters, biker riders, muscle men and musicians , artists, gangsters and tattoo parlors. Evryone hawking something to sell. It is a busy place. Touristy. Lots of Europeans on vacation. Gentrification is creeping into Venice and pushing out artists with the high rents, but Venice Beach stays avant garde. Whatever that means. Sounds exotic. Sounds Bohemian. Got a tattoo at Venice Beach last year for my birthday. Impulsive. That has always been my prob. Symptom of bipolar. I have to stop for now. Tired. Haven't slept. I dance and listen to music a lot when I'm manic like this. I have a blind date at 1 pm today, and I haven't slept all night. It's 9 am now, maybe I can sleep a little. Gotta take a hot shower. Unfurl rigid muscles. Aches and pains. Down the shower drain.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Limping along on half a brain

I've been pretty much baked for weeks now, ever since I decided to go back on pot. It makes me sad, cuz I definetley have a cognitive problem when I'm high. Short term memory loss, lack of coordination, paranoia.... Do I not smoke and feel like shit from stress, or do I smoke to obliterate myself? Cuz it seems that I can't just do one or more tokes a day--I have to smoke to stupification. Smoke myself unconscious, sleep a few hours, wake up, then get baked again. I'm going through some kind of realization lately (for a long time actually), that the only person I have to help me is me ALONE. I feel very isolated, living out here in LA alone. But feeling too anxious to go out to meet people. I have some sort of social phobia. It's hard to get out. I feel very alienated from the world. I'm very sensitive to everything too, and I'm so irritable all the time. Been off Cymbalta and Trazadone for at least 2 weeks now. I'm quite distraught about my lot in life. All this, and I'm still sending out resumes sometimes. Been waffling back and forth about the fact of going back to work. I don't feel that I have much to offer the world.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

One ashy thought..

I find no blame in fellow bis (bipolars) smoking pot to relieve some of their pain. Reality is way too real for me sometimes. I have to check out in some way. I suffer constant stress and knotted shoulders. I smoke to relax my muscles, and lower my anxiety levels. I say positive affirmations to myself: I'm happy, I'm healthy, I'm wealthy. Might as go for the income while I'm saying what I want. Put it out to the Universe, what I'm needing in my life right now.

I have this creative bent, but can't get it out. Or know how to get started. I've been teaching myself stuff on photobucket. I like doing bright graphics. When I get frustrated, I put on my music and blast it right into my face. Like I'm trying to blow all the cob webs away. The louder, the better. I have permanent tinnitus in my ears from listening to too loud rock music over the years. I dance around my apt., and have creative thoughts torture me. I cut a swath saber -like through the swirl of imagery and colors and sounds with a deft shake of the booty. I am a true dancer. I feel the music and my toes twirl me around and I take off for the ride. I can't dance like I used to. Not as supple or limber. Still have a nice bod for almost 50. Gag. I hate being my age!

I went to the museum yesterday, which satisfied some of my visual candy fix I need. Andy Warhol. Jackson Pollack. Picasso. Love their stuff. The odder things look to me, the better. I have a very curious mind. I want to see how things originate, and what are the thoughts and creativity behind them. I'm a frustrated artist, songwriter, dancer, writer, poet, scientist.

To Smoke or not to smoke...part deux

So, I go and get my maryjane med card. Went off Cymbalta and Trazadone. Trazadone, I've been on for years and years. Couldn't sleep at all without it, no matter how tired I got. I just wouldn't go to sleep. Nod off, jerk awake. So, I took it to sleep, knowing full well that I was heading for another nightmare state. I told my nurse the other day when I picked up my meds that it's been unbearable, feeling as bad as I've done.

So I said F it the other day, and went to Venice Beach and got my card. It's helped me be very creative lately, and has helped with the pain I get. Especially helps with the side effects of going off my psychotropic drugs. I'm still on Lamactil, cuz it's a mood stabilizer. I can't give everything up. I've been talking about going off my meds for a long time.

I just realized something. I've probably kicked myself out of my own apt., getting my med-mj card. How stupid is that! I'm so impulsive--I do stuff, then realize the consequences later. Yeah, I may lose my apt. cuz of this! Dumb ass!

I hope I won't be eating out of garbage can this time next year.

Saturday, February 7, 2009

To Smoke or not to smoke...

So, I got sick and tired of feeling sick and tired--like one of Ozzie's lyrics, and I decided to go to Venice Beach to see if I could get ok'd for a medical marijuana card. I hadn't smoked in months, and I was missing the relaxing effects it has on my nervous system. I've been miserable since the holidays, dying from loneliness, and going slightly mad every night. Staying up all night and playing on the computer, rather than trying to sleep. My hours are all bass-ackwards these days. Hell, I've always been a night owl. I was born at 6pm, and haven't gotten past that yet. So, here it is, 4 am, jotting down some thoughts.

I took myself off Cymbalta last week without seeing my psychiatrist. I haven't seen him since early December, cuz he was out of town and still is. I won't be able to see him until the 20th this month--I'm supposed to see him every 4 weeks, and if I'm going through a crisis, more often. I had to take myself off that crap-it was killing me with dehydration. My skin burned and itched, and I was feeling ill. Dying of thirst constantly. I've noticed that my allergies have gotten worse too. Every time the Santa Ana winds blow hard and hot from the Mojave Desert, my allergies blow just as hard. I was feeling particulary bad from my dried up sinuses. Had two humidifiers going 24/7. Not much relief. Too bad, cuz at the very first, I was feeling a bit better on Cymbalta. I've been put on Cymbalta 3 different times since almost 2 years ago. Wow, I can't believe it's been that long! Year before last, in June or July, I was put on it. That made me totally manic, combined with Wellbutrin, and I went on my space oddyssey around LA . Keep reading below, and you'll come to that. Wrote a 37 page essay about it one night, on one of my creative bursts.

I'm trying in my hopeless way of setting up going to the beach for the card...bear with me. I haven't slept in 2 days. I have moments of creativity, but getting it out of me is hard, cuz my body can't keep up. Writing is hard to do, feeling like this. I have the look and feel of a run-over Barbie doll. Maybe have a skid mark or two--I see one on my forehead...

I've had some side effects going off Cymbalta, but not as bad as other drugs I've gone off. Particuarly Zoloft. I do have the weird eye movements and a little vertigo, but not to the degree of Zoloft. But going off Cymbalta takes me off the pain killer aspect of Cymbalta. It's mild effect on the pain neuro pathways, but not enough to warrant the thirst. That, and me looking like an Egyptian mummy. Sorry about the miss spellings here, but I have a hard time visualiizng words and how they're spelt when I feel gross like this. It's hard to keep my thought together to get anywhere. My mind wanders like the absent minded professor.. Oh yeah, this is what I was trying to come up with--I read on the net the other day that depression settles into your nervous system, and that people with bipolar depression or other mental illness are apt to die up to 25 years earlier than so called normals. I can see that. I certainly feel it. I was telling my mother the other day that I have no desire to get to be her age. She's 80. She says she never thinks about it. Her attitude has always been sunnier than me than a mile. I told her that the thought of living with depression and immobility and in pain for the next 30 years was not a good prospect for me. Check please! I also eye myself as the character that Edward G Robinson played in Soylent Green--just going to the local euthanasia center when it's time. It was a very nice experience. They played soothing music and put on beautiful videos of the mother earth on a big screen as they pumped the toxins in. If those places were legal, they'd have such business these days! I was quite upset to read that depression just settles into your nervous system. I mean, to take all these drugs over the years to correct my brain chemistry, and now knowing that it's in every nerve of my being---how the hell can it ever be cured?? I feel it in every cell-every blood vessel. I write this blog to get someone to read it, and maybe one day there will be not so much the stigma of mental illness. But then, I ramble... I'm going to have to come back later to finish this post. It's very tiring to write--I can't sleep. Been manic, trying to be creative. I feel god awful. B bak ltr..