Where in the world?03:36 Jan 03 2009
Times Read: 774
*looks at back of Milk Carton box* Oh shit! I AM the missing child!
Friends, nobles and countrymen.. lend me your ears... or don't.
Now for answers many of you have been looking for. Sorry. In true KJ form, I will only throw two scenarios out there. Considering both are laden with truth, I am not evading. Just dodging a bit.
(Scenario A)
Went to L.A. and got a job writing for a show I am not allowed to say until the new season begins. One hint: Eclipses are one way to remind yourself that you are just human.
Why no communicado? Simply, I've been with a "think tank" chucking out idea after idea like a cheerleader that just binge ate. To say the least, some of my best writing... so far. It's nice to be the "big brain" again. Oh, not because I am smart. I have established that I am quite dopey. However, I will never EVER depreciate the value of my imagination ever again. Even around "the best" -- it seems I have more and more respect and knocks on my hotel room door for brain-storming sessions than any other "rookie" -- no, scratch that. I haven't been a rookie in quite some time. I'm throwing down with the veterans and have not a single scar.
Bonus of success? I have never been harder on myself than I am now. I wake up into panic attacks and go to sleep with the most fucked up dreams. Now, I usually draw on my fucked up dreams as a form of coping/therapy or whatever... However, since I have been having rapid fire new and horrible dreams, I am not handling it very well. I now have panic attacks more than twice a day. I have to keep a straight face and act like my world is not caving in through my chest. I have to make a point of not letting my mind wander too far down self-destruction lane... I wrote three suicide scenes that completely freaked out and intrigued co-writers. The running joke is me and sharp objects. The running truth is: been there. done that.
OR (Scenario Two)
After two weeks straight without sleep, I became very very ill, missed my chance to head to Los Angeles and worked myself up so much that I actually had a bad enough panic and asthma attack that landed me in the hospital where a coma was induced because my lungs no longer wanted to fight for air. This, was fine. It felt/feels like time to throw in the towel.
Not much but shadows and voices. The occasional moment of "waking" because I instinctively grip for the evil plastic air coil that has been forced down my throat to give me life. I was strapped to my bed. I fractured my wrist trying to get one free -- while comatose. Not only didn't I know it happened until I came to, I had no idea I missed the holidays.
When I was first brought out of the coma, I found I had no kind of voice. The tubing forces all the fine machinery in your throat that allows you to vocalize. I am now mute.
I find it amazing how quickly muscles can atrophy. My therapists are nice, but I don't speak so I wouldn't know much more than there names and who comes off phony, who cops a feel when helping me walk and who really cares. Funny, if you don't speak, people will talk about you in the third person like the problem is somehow in your ears. *shrugs*
I am still in the hospital. I had to really give hell over getting my laptop back. I know the docs are itching to read what is going on in my head. So, I started a journal for them. They ask me things in no particular order of importance, and I write about it through the evening and let them read it. I think I scare them. I scare a lot of people I am beginning to learn. I am too smart for my own good, I read more than the docs do (hmm, X rubs off on me wayyyy too much) and my "screw therapy gab sessions" doesn't help.
So. There you have it. I'm either about to make it or I am pretty close to writing one of my last entries. Funny that, in theory, it could be argued that either way, the best of my work has come to light. Honestly? It makes dying easier after you've accomplished what you always wanted to.
Oh, and dear coven-mate? Quit asking me to put the Coven crest on my profile -- I am not a newb and I think I have sufficiently declared my loyalties. So, crest? Ain't gonna happen.
And now it is either Nurse Ratchett or a fellow "think-tanker" standing over me to sign off. Either way, for those of you that I still matter to, I ain't dead yet!
xoxoxo
COMMENTS
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XxLDRxX
21:53 Jan 31 2009
My sister , my partner in crime, my love muffin, my voice of reason inside my very confused twisted uncertain head. My walk in the dark, my walk in the rain, my shoulder when my tears fall like that from a summer rain. My one I trust, my one I loves like no other FAMILY simply put you are my Family. I feel your pain, you have seen mine , You are missed when you are away and I feel I can talk to no one that will understand. My escape my run to when the walls come crashing...My strength when i find nothing but weakness when I look in the mirror. You are My SISTER and I would forever stand and fight by your side , take a bullet if it came to that... The one I am lost with out when I can not sleep, the one to tell me i should be there you need me. Yes there are others... Momma, you are a God sent. but you Kourt are my sister and I could never ask for one ever better. I love you Girl !
moonkissed
21:59 Jan 31 2009
i would kill to sell some of my literature right now. know anyone in porn? j/k
ok not really, do you?
to do list: 1. contact Reiki Master about Dutchess leg.
all kidding (was i kidding? oh right, maybe...LOL) i am so glad you are back! don't do that again Derm it!