The Paranoia Patrol

What if I decided to trust him 100%?

What if I decided to never talk to that person ever again? 

What if I decided to walk into that meeting like it didn’t matter if those people thought my hair was a hot mess and my chosen outfit came out of an 1980’s throwback closet – except I didn’t know I was throwin’ back? 

What if …

What if I woke up one morning and chose to accept that I could?  That I could control the Paranoia Patol? 

I have had issues all my life. Welcome to the club. But, Paranoia has been the biggest Bitch of them all. 

It has created the most anxiety. It has caused more problems with relationships – of all kinds. It has ruined multiple jobs…. It has controlled my life in so many ways. 

It just comes barreling into my life like a bulldozer and says “No, no, no! I don’t care what you think! You are wrong!” 

I don’t care how in “control” of my bipolar/borderline I think I am -obviously I’m not it takes over. In fact, the better I feel, the worse my paranoia gets. 

It’s like mental health has to be outta whack all the time…. Something has to be messed up. 

Or maybe paranoia just naturally comes out of that? After fighting it for so many years your like “no way can I be feeling good! Something has to be fucked up. Let me find it!” And, if I can’t find I’ll create the shit! Oh, I am good at that!

So lately, I have been repeating those two phrases above to myself when I start to question my boyfriend – or when I have that urge to talk to the person who is really not good for me. Is it helping? Long term? No clue. My anxiety sure seems to subside though. And, we all understand how awesome it is to NOT have to deal with that little bitch of a problem. 

It’s been a long time since I’ve been here to write. Feels good to be back and get some things down. 


I fight happiness and I’m damn good at it!

I woke up this morning feeling like shit. Not physically, mentally. Of course! As I was taking my bath (sorry for the visual) it occured to me that maybe I shouldn’t. I just found out yesterday that I am teaching summer school. For me, that’s a HUGE deal. Sure, I’d love to have the summer off and do nothing. But that’s not at all healthy for me – mentally or financially. I heard myself actually thanking God for making it happen. I don’t thank God for much. I do fight with him an awful lot though! I cry in anger a lot in his presense. But, I generally don’t thank him for anything.

Acutally I fight with a lot of things… a lot. That’s what I do best. Fight… I fight happiness. I fight goodness. I fight healthiness – All of the positive stuff. I figure God wired me that way? Didn’t he?

I am trying to tread lightly here because I really don’t want to make this a debate. I have struggled all of my life with my faith. I purposely don’t blog about faith because I greatly respect others’ views. I listen a lot though. Lately, I’ve been feeling things open up inside… a willingness to acutally make space in my head to believe a few people’s “suggestions” or comments or…. I don’t know, observations perhaps. I have been blessed to have people like Sammy open up to me. He has a very delicate way of talking to me. I haven’t figured out yet how that has happened, but I am grateful for it.

I know what brought me here… or how it is that I am here… the sacrifice, as it was, that was made for me… I don’t wish to go there. I understand it very well. My faith is very separate from my understanding of my Christianity.

Maybe that is my problem right there… I have let my illness seep in and swallow up my faith. Mental illnesses will do that. Illnesses will do that! They swallow up what is good in us. What is confident in us…. They make us dark and angry and second guess everything that is good or right or moral.

All the medicine in the world… all the exercise, the eating right… the therapy sometimes isn’t enough. And then what?

I will tell you what happens to me…

I fall flat on my face….


….did you hear that?

It was me falling, yet again, flat. on. my. face. And, it fucking hurts. It hurts physically – the emotions hurt physically. I don’t have to tell you that because I am sure you know.

But I get up everyday and I do it again. Without fail. Without giving up and and giving in because giving in and quitting aren’t options for me. That is an entirely different conversation.

Thank you, Sammy and others, for treading lightly with me because honetly, I am a bull in a china shop here! I am angry and sad and lonely and did I mention confused?

…………….. flat on my face!

Climbing Down the Mountain

Lots of things in the air right now. As they should be while I discover myself. How often do we go through this process?

I have been reading over my posts:
Walking a better path.
Learning to deal with my “self”.
The Love Addiction.
Moving past the “men”
The trauma in my past……….

I think I’m afraid of myself and of getting old and losing chances to make something of myself… which sounds ridicules but whatever… it is what is.

So I’ve been going through things lately – mostly to keep myself from falling too deep into my head and to keep myself out of other people’s “hands”. I have been through the recovery process so many times. Not in the normal sense of the word. Not in the “worked a program” sense. My recovery sense. Recovered from a sickness… sense of the word.

It feels like it’s about a balance for me really. … about walking the rim of this volcano. Because all of that stuff is in there… it moves around constantly. If I can stay safely just outside of it I will be just fine.

I suppose there is nothing keeping me from walking down the stupid mountain? That would keep from me the bubbling mess of my brain… that mountain is pretty fucking scary though.

And it goes on…

Here’s the problem.  I’m afraid of myself!

I’m in Chicago right now waiting for Therapy Man to do his thing. I just officially broke up with Danger Boy this morning. I’m not sure how that will go. I have never done that before. It’s always been him and it has always existed around some sort of shit storm. No shit storm this time (yet). I just got tired of him… um, I  think. Chasing him or whatever game it was we were playing because in the end it was just sex and I was losing regardless… good sex or not.

Ironically,  he got me right where he wanted me to be…. he kept saying, after 3 years of it, that it was just sex and I kept saying it had to be more… finally I agree with him and I’m not interested anymore. He should have just let me do me. Boys are dumb.

How does all of this make me realize that I’m afraid of myself?

It doesn’t.

The rest of my week does. And, the rest of my week is so effing crazy that I’m not entirely sure where to start or even sure if it matters if I do.

I do know that as I begin to remove people from my life I am realizing that all I have left is me…  as I was driving to Chicago it occured to me that I scare the shit out of myself. I’m a goodish person. But, I am crazy as hell. It’s very well documented! I’m not sure I can deal with myself… that is why I let so many awful people in.  Hell, I will let anyone in – case in point.. Danger Boy!

I don’t know.  People do not stay in my life for a reason. If others don’t stay how long am I expected to? I drive others crazy? Are you pickin’ up what I’m puttin’ down here people? I am not an easy person to deal with, obviously!

I think you get it… I’m off for therapy. 

Ah, but we can walk again


‘Cause all of me
Loves all of you
Love your curves and all your edges
All your perfect imperfections
Give your all to me
I’ll give my all to you
You’re my end and my beginning
Even when I lose I’m winning
Cause I give you all of me
And you give me all of you, oh

– all of me, John Legend

She sits in pictures on the window sill just above my laptop and usually at my feet when I’m writing. She’s like a little rag doll… floppy and bouncy and brings me toys and say “Momma… it’s not all that serious! Tell ’em all to go to hell and let’s just play with Mr. Squid man instead!” That’s why All of Me is our song! She’s my beauty queen for sure!

She does make writing about the things I’ve been writing about lately weird. Yeah, yeah she’s a dog. To YOU she’s a dog. To this girl she’s a …. IDK… she’s got a spirit! And.. she listens! And.. she is mine! Hey, I’m the one who was afraid my stuffed animals would be hurt if they didn’t all get to sleep on the bed every night with me. The one who was sure my bike would be scared if it was left out and not safe in the garage where it belonged! Yeah, yeah! I had serious issues! Ya pickin up what I’m putting down here???


Fairytale may NOT be the proper term here 🙂

Need I explain the necessity for Therapy Man? So I think my dog understands me some – is that so bad? LOL. I grew up with a very active imagination because I had to… it’s all I had. Life was scary otherwise. My possessions were what I had. Like it or not we are products of our environments. My environment drove me into my head. Simple as that. I gathered my possessions very closely to myself! I didn’t necessarily say that what was going on in my head was normal!

Another blogger is doing a series on Mindfulness. I won’t go into… I may ask if I can’t link this to her blog and you could get some info that way. I think it’s a great tool for anxiety and just … yeah. I think it’s great. I cannot do it. My mind is a hot mess. It has been for as long as I can remember for as many reasons as I can remember. I have done a lot of work with Acceptance Commitment Therapy and love that. Great source for anxiety…

I think the key is finding the right therapist and NOT giving up – no matter what – until you do. Seriously. I hate hearing people say “I have tried and I quit.” They are all the same. Well… they aren’t. Just a basic observation… there are psychologists and social workers for one thing… they go about things in different ways… jus’ saying… in my opinion. But, I’m not here for that… I have, however, been around the therapy block a few times.

Mental health sucks, doesn’t it? Of all things to suck! We fuck around with not taking care of our brains. The very thing that make decisions for us every moment we breath. And yet we fuck around with deciding if we should get help for it. We let others dictate so much about what is cool about it and not. Messed up! Oh! How I hate it!!! Granted it’s hard to fight the gremlins in there… I KNOW. IIIII KNNOWWWW…. then there are the bullies who make it hard!

Oh therapy and therapist. Tricky. Fuck it’s all tricky. Trusting. Starting over with “the story” each time. Yeah… it’s a drag. The risk of never getting fixed? OHHHH, maybe that’s it. We don’t ever really get fixed. And, maybe that’s it.. pisses us off. We don’t want to accept it.

Here’s the thing though… We can always learn to walk again. And just maybe the path we start walking down is better than the one we were walking before?

May – be? Hm?

Everything and Nothing At All….

Jealousy is a bitch!
…. life is work people…. sex is easy! But, hell if jealousy doesn’t end up winding itself in and tying me up like a little bitch!

then there is the borderline in me…
she’s a bitch too. oh, she’s a mean little bitch!
and when Jealousy and Borderline get tangled… 
ohhhh… look out! Shit storms start happenin’

I’ve had a lot of GREAT feedback the last couple of days from people who I consider friends. I do want to take it easy and just enjoy the ride but, Jealousy crops and and I am F-U-C-K-E-D, screwed! I don’t want a serious relationship with anyone – OK – maybe eventually… but I am relationship retarded (and I do know how to use that term correctly)! I just can’t handle the energy it would take to work on one right now.

I just think that sex should be easy and somehow I even fuck that up. Uh???  Who does that? This girl

Right now, I just want my friends to know that I see the light out there… but there is struggle for me.. Borderline likes the fight… and loves the sex. There’s no doubt. But, ME… I like not having to struggle and I feel that. I feel the smile you send me, Sammy :). I hear you!  I will enjoy, if I can just not struggle through the Jealousy of the aftermath.

……….. don’t think too hard, dig too deep, read between the lines. 🙂

Smashing Pair of Addiction Disasters!

I’ve been married 3 times and I can honestly – very honestly – say that looking back I don’t think I was in love with any of them. *shaking my head* I don’t think that I’ve ever been in love and that may include Danger Boy now.

Had a conversation with Therapy Man yesterday about my week. I am not only terrible at love, but I am also rather naive when it comes to understanding that I am way too nice to men… to penises. Especially single penises… I understand that not all men are like this. I’d like to find a couple who apparently do not want to sleep with me.

Let me clarify that… I am not perfect and I’m working on it. I have done my share of “getting around”. Lookin for love in all the wrong places! Oh… Shit. I think my post and my bitching probably just ended right here, but I shall continue anyway 🙂

I can admit that I have a problem. HUGE ONE! I just don’t exactly know what that problem is. Sex or Love? I recently discovered Love Addiction and while Therapy Man doesn’t put me in a box with that – we rarely talk diagnoses at all…. I would lay odds that it’s the box I belong it

I love Love… or the idea of it. And, while I’m not entirely sure that that’s the gist behind the addiction. I’d guess that I’m on target. Danger Boy … well, let me just say… think he’s got Sex Addiction written all over him and that just makes us a Smashing Pair of addiction disasters and I do not say that lightly! I think it’s hell. I think it’s what keeps us in this sick loop. Unfortunately, I’m happy? Excuse me while I vomit.

Speaking of… he was here last night. We’ve been back together since January and there has been very little talk about “the other”. In fact, I wasn’t sure that there was still “the other”. Last week when he was here he mentioned he had to go out of town this weekend. This weekend also happens to mark 3 years that we have been tangled up in this mess I consider a relationship.

When he came back in January we both took ALOT of time to think about whether we could handle “the crazy” of it all. Oh did it get crazy. I was surprised I actually thought about it the way I did. I can consciously remember thinking to myself… “I’m not sure I’m strong enough to go through his again”. I usually just straight up don’t think… it is Jason after all. When it comes to Jason I don’t have a brain. I believe it physically leaves my body somehow when I think about him… don’t ask me how…. I don’t know… I’m a freak and brainless most of the time… Anyway… we both ended up here … here being my bed, again. Mainly because we don’t do public. I’m not sure it’d be safe for us to be out in public. Just being honest.. or a chicken shit making excuses.. who knows.


So he was here and now he’s gone. for the weekend… with “the other”. Where he should be… I suppose…

This is the best I can do right now. people! Maybe it’s the best I will allow for myself. Maybe it’s the best I feel I deserve? Therapy Man believes I’m in love with him. I’m fighting him on that. I’m sure he’ll win. He usually does. But here’s the thing my friends… or those of you who understand these sorts of addictions? or those of you who just wanna hear me out… 🙂

I’ve seen him every week for the last few months. That’s more than I ever saw him before. He comes to see me… we talk about things I know he’s not able to talk to anyone about to others. He’s cop.. he can’t talk to other cops about these things…  “The other” is his chief so I know he can’t talk to her about them.

And, then there’s the sex. I won’t got there, but he’s not dissatisfied and obviously I am not either because I don’t want to see anyone else. In the past I have. And obviously, not to sound like – idk –  whatever… I’m not short of offers right now.

I know that I fool myself into believing things all of the time… but, I don’t want to mess around with stepping out and getting my heart broken by someone someone new. I’m having troubles enough doing that making friends. He’s plenty capable of doing it himself anyway. I mentioned in the beginning of this post that I’m not sure I’ve ever been in love… if I have, it’s been with him and he’s shattered the idea that it could ever work long ago… or not, maybe I’m holding onto the possibility.. at least I know how to recover.. or not? Fuck. Yes… fuck indeed.

I wonder if I couldn’t just, one more time, put on those big girl panties of mine and enjoy the ride? Why do I always tear things up into tiny little mental health bullshit and whine about it.. And the, fuck it up? Why does everything have to be such a crisis? The sex is amazing! Why can’t I just enjoy it? Seriously, Jami? Girl?

Talking Body – Tove Lo

In bed, stay in bed,
The feeling of your skin locked in my head
Smoke smoke me broke
I don’t care, I’m down for what you want
Day drunk into the night, wanna keep you here
‘Cause you dry my tears
Yeah, summer loving and fights
How it is for us, and it’s all because

Now if we’re talking body
You got a perfect one, so put it on me
Swear it won’t take you long
If you love me right
We fuck for life, on and on and on
Now if we’re talking body
You got a perfect one, so put it on me
Swear it won’t take you long
If you love me right
We fuck for life, on and on and on

Love can be love,
Anything you want I’ll give it up
Lips, lips are kiss,
Bite me while I taste your fingertips
Day drunk into the night, wanna keep you here
‘Cause you dry my tears
Yeah, summer loving and fights
How it is for us, and it’s all because

Girl you’re worth it… in all this Toxicity of life!

I have never felt worth anything. With that said, the last 8 days of my life have been rather interesting. People are mean. I have said that. I will stand by it. I will die by it. I used to believe that it was just the bitches that were mean. But, no. Boys also suck. Not just because they want some. They are just as caddy and mean as women. They want control and when they can’t have it… look the fuck out!


I think Therapy Man has been earning his keep because I survived a barrage of bullshit from both men and women this week. This wasn’t just caddy shit. One of the men was attacking me at my job making serious accusations about me with students AND I DIDN’T lose it! In 25 years of teaching NOT ONCE have I EVER been accused of inappropriate behavior with a student! NOT ONCE have I ever been accused of anything inappropriate! This guy wants in my pants and I know that! He as wanted in my pants since he met me. I did the right thing! I didn’t flip out! I didn’t miss any school! I didn’t self-injure! I put my big girl panties on and handled it professionally and I AM PROUD OF MY BIPOLAR/BORDERLINE totin’ self! And, on top of it, my professional self didn’t even bring into the situation the fact that ole boy wants in my pants! That’s what I’m talkin’ about!


So, I’m fishing a tournament last night… if you recall, I was going to quit fishing them because of the meanies. But, I decided that I would step out of the bullshit and do what I do because I love it… I was setting up the boat and getting my stuff together when the jackass who made the sideways comments last weekend about ME hitting on HIM decides to whistle at me as I was walking across the park… ya know the whistle… the “you look hawt” whistle… yeah! What a fuck! It took everything I had not to walk up to him – sitting with all his fishin buddies – and say… let him just clear this up for ya – YOU are flirting ME right now jackass… just to be clear! But… again!!! I stepped out of the chaotic bullshit (my brain, basically) and decided to let him be a 12 year old and kept walkin. And then I beat his ass out on the water 🙂  Best revenge possible. 🙂


Toxicity…. Mmmmm…. I love this word. Seriously… what a great word. So, I was fishing, as I said… and I wasn’t getting the fish I needed and I was frustrated with the BS and IDK… there was no courtesy on the water even… guys were cutting in 50 yards ahead of us when clearly we were on that spot with plenty of water??? I don’t know. Suddenly we started hitting the little guys we needed… (There’s a slot limit on the river which means nothing probably, but anyway). Out of nowhere I heard myself say… Maybe the God I fight with on a regular basis is finally listening to me since I haven’t lost my freaking mind in the last 8 days over this stupid crap going on with the meanies!!!! Whaaaatttt….. Reallly??? Did I just go there?

Anyway… I did go there. I hated myself as soon as I did. It’s much easier to be angry. Much easier to be the victim for me. I’m not sure why. Peace is scary. Peace leaves my brain free to think of things… peace gives me space to breath and space to allow things in… to take the risk of getting hurt. As far as I’m concerned I’m doing enough of that. I realize it also allows for the opportunity of not getting hurt…. I’m aware of that.

One step at a time. I didn’t lose it this week. That’s something to write home about.

Gone Fishin’


My therapist says I need to find friends and do stuff with them. What a dick! Then he puts a condition on it. They can’t have penises. And, he doesn’t want me having sex – which is totally understandable. No connection intended between the friends and having sex.. That was just an added nugget of information. Although he has allowed me to continue to have sex with Dangerboy. I don’t know if he’s using some old school reverse psychology on me  there – thinking I’ll wake up and see he’s a piece of poop and it’s all been the actual nightmare it really is… I don’t know. Does that stuff even work? Because I’m pretty sure my Momma tried that shit all the time while I was growing up. And, look at me now. 🙂

I’ve blogged about friends many times. I don’t have them. And, I don’t have them for a number of reasons! But, mostly I don’t have them unless they have penises. And, lately I’m not sure why I even have guy friends. I’ve become aware in the last 24 hours that I may not even be capable of doing that correctly. Apparently, I present myself improperly. I’d like to believe that I do just fine and others take it wrong. The problem is I have 48 years of a living with a disease that has tricked my brain so many times into believing that I’m whore and failure and bitch and all of those scapegoat labels that if someone wants me to take on that role…… Have at it, bitch! I’m your girl!

MAYYBEEEE… I just feel like fighting back this time.

MAYYBEEEE… I feel like I want to just be who I am and if you take it wrong them fuck off…

Sorry… I don’t want your penis, Dude!

It’s such a fight women play…. Especially women with mental illness. We play so many games with ourselves, I think??? We are always the whores – well, in this case it’s all been simple conversations…. so, no sex involved, but still. We are always the aggressors. And, if we have a mental disease that bitch in our brain will win out every time…. or at least in my case!

Here’s the situation. I bass fish competitively. I fish with my ex most of the time. This is a huge group of men… 100s of men in our circle of clubs and circuits… a handful of them – 20 or so  – show up consistently. The majority of them know my ex because his is very good. When we broke up it wasn’t long before they found out about it. A couple of them decided to reach out to me…. UH HUH… I thought they were going to be big boys about it. We are all over the age of 40 for God’s sake! We talked about fishing… dinner came up once or twice. My relationship with my ex came up. Needless to say, well, I don’t really know what to say. I ended up being the one pursuing them. It all blew up in my face. Yeah, fuck that! So, now I want to quit fishing… Whaaaat???

Except I KNOW that I DIDN’T do anything wrong. I fish to relax to have fun – if you have a mental illness can I have an AMEN? Because you folks understand what that means! It took me 48 years of fighting a beast of a disease, but I found something that makes me able to get out of my head – to escape the anxiety… the spinning… the cement block! As it is, I have to put up with my ex to do it. But, we both have been able to be adults about it and we have kicked some ass on the water while doing it. I just want that space and time for myself. Seriously, I have come all this way and finally found something. I don’t want to give it up because BOYS will be fucking BOYS. (um… sorry guys).

I think I’m just gonna “break up” with everybody. Step outside of all the bullshit! They can kiss my ass and I will really be a bitch. Seriously. I’ll be the person I hate people to be. I don’t understand why people have to be mean. But, I think I’m beginning to get it. I’m not a mean person. There is not a vindictive bone in my body (um, unless I’m super sick I suppose and then ….. I don’t think I have ever done it on purpose – but, I’m not going to claim total perfection… I’m borderline people) I’m fun and really can be a happy person. But if this is where it gets me… Seriously! Fuck ’em.

Look out. I’m going fishin’!