Please shoot me an email and tell me who you are (I need to know). You can do so by clicking on the “Contact” link on the upper right hand side of this page and then fill out the contact form. If that doesn’t work, stellar(at)girlicide.com. Thank you!
I’ve successfully moved to a new apartment. I’m free! Even though I am dealing with a lot of financial problems right now, I couldn’t be happier because it’s just me and Toby and we are safe.
My upstairs neighbors are the epitome of gangster vatos. They have long braided hair, wear huge white tube socks with their flip-flops, play awful Mexican music until 5am every morning, and drive a giant SUV covered in Raiders stickers. The lady behind me is sweet and quiet and has a little white dog named Princess whom Toby loves.
My apartment is run down and old but everything seems to work properly. Do you know how nice it is to have a washer and dryer available to you whenever you need it? I have hot water all the time and don’t have to wait for three other people to take a shower before I can. Glorious.
I won’t have the internet for a while so bear with me. I will try to update from my phone as often as I can.
“Well hey there, girl! Your spark is back!”
Yes. Thank God. I’ve been waiting.
Lately I’m good. Great. Fan-fucking-tastic. The rooms in my mind spin without gravity. I see stars. They’re everywhere in my life. When I’m experiencing my euphoric highs, I see my stars once again. They’ve been resurrected and burn brightly, leading me bravely through long fields, past dark palaces, and straight into the arms of sanctuary. A very beautiful, rich sanctuary.
I want to take it all in; swallowing it as though it were a thick tar. It coats my throat, sinks to my stomach, and eventually pulses through my veins. Stars, I do feel you. Welcome back.
This is the first time I’ve ever heavily considered getting a tattoo. I’ve toyed with the idea for many years now as my stars come and go. This time they’ve embraced me quite abruptly and the thought of the luscious ink has weighed heavy on my mind. Of course it will have meaning. Much meaning, in fact. The emotions lie deep within my tendons & nerves and bounce around freely behind my eyes creating a jungle of flashing lights, laughs, muscle, and bone. Right here and right now, I’ve become a hunter – free to do as I please.
And lust shoots forward; briskly//quickly. Intense claws that ignite my skin, dreams and heart. I paw back playfully and bite down hard, gripping everything in my teeth – growl. New stars are formed to join the army of others that float in my mind and suddenly the race begins all over again. The army forms a sea; an enormous sparkling mass of gratitude that pierces my flesh. If I choose to fish, I catch nothing but imagination and euphoria. I never want to leave. My heart aches in such a magnificent way and all it takes is my rapid pulse to remind me of why I am here. I feel it daily now.
I’ll embark on the new journey my stars have laid out for me. I do so with the utmost trust and faith, even when blind. And when I can’t see, I can still feel the mountainous range in front of me radiating a glow that dominates me. I’m elated.
Flattering, you are.
The stars fall with the leaves if I stand in a forest. I dream about it often in a psychedelic rain unable to be seen or felt with the aid of any drug. I see them constantly; when I sleep and when I wake. Dancing stars, tickling everything they touch, forcing me to feel liberated, free of frustration, comforted, and flexible. I try to figure out where they come from sometimes but more often than not, I just welcome them without worrying about the small details. But I think they’re sent from Venus – my planet. They beautifully scar me in a way I am unable to describe.
Explosion. Precise colors. Winged creatures. Spiraling moments. Symmetrical. Asymmetrical.
When I finally sleep, the stars will steer. They conquer my very being until morning and protect me without question. At night I feel myself stirring in bed; reaching out in the darkness for something I can feel in front of me and even if I am unable to grasp it, I feel it flutter past my fingertips, teasing me & reminding me that it’s still there waiting patiently for me to devour it. This is not a figment of my known imagination – it’s a solid star forming geishas, rings, lyrics, artwork, feathers, and mermaids that swim loosely in my engorged world.
I draw again. Mostly simple sketches consisting of new ideas, lovely nightmares, intense goals, and delicate voices that can actually be visualized on paper. You can hear them whispering and creating secrets for my stars. I simply cannot smile anymore than I have been.
Lastly, I am ready to embrace October and welcome all it’s horror into my existence. Screams & wide eyes & makeup & hell will scour around me and I ache for it. I’ll wear the fright; braid it in my hair daily as to not neglect it’s frailness. My close friends accept it as well (Halloween lovers). We all fuse together and enjoy something that most people just simply cannot understand. And for a Halloween gift, I’d like to draw a special ghoulish image for my little sister. I know it is possible, I just want it to be perfect.
Bite. Bleed. Stars. F r e e.
Back in day, it wasn’t uncommon for me to have a wishlist set up with Amazon. While I really don’t want to relive the “camgirl days,” I did set up a wishlist for my new apartment I’ll be moving to October 1st. Yep, that’s right; I’ve finally found a place to move and even though it’s not in the greatest condition (basement of an older house), it will most definitely do for now. There’s some stuff I do need, though. So here’s my little apartment wishlist and anything purchased off there for me will be appreciated more than you will ever know! For those of you who don’t know how Amazon wishlists work, let me give you the rundown: just select the item you’d like to purchase and when you check-out, it will ask you where to ship it – my place will be an option, although you won’t be able to see my actual address. Just select Mindy and rest assured it will find it’s way to my new place. :) And before anyone gives me crap, yes I do have a $700 bedroom set on there but I sort of added that with the intent to eventually buy it myself. I’m trying to save up for some real furniture and I’ve always wanted a bedroom set.
You can also donate to me via Paypal. I am serious when I say that anything right now helps. If you’d like to do that, scroll down and I have a Paypal option set up on the right-hand widget column.
I’m working on a new layout for Girlicide and hopefully it will be done soon. I just hate updating Wordpress and making sure all the codes work.
So not being in school for a semester has been both a blessing and a curse. It’s nice because I’m not as stressed as I used to be but at the same time, I’m missing out on time that could have been used to complete classes. School is the never ending story of my life. Seriously.
I’m writing more lately (a lot of poetry) and I’d love to get that posted soon as well. For some reason, I’m really proud of what I created. All of the poetry was written when I was experiencing extremely emotional periods so they’re pretty intense. Well, to me they are anyway. :)
Thanks everyone for keeping up with me lately! But before I forget, I recently did a photoshoot for Dark Descent, a group of awesome people who put on the best haunted house in Northern Colorado. And for all of you who have been religiously keeping up with me over the years, you know for a fact what a horror freak I am so for them to have even asked me was friggin’ amazing! :) The photoshoot was for their 2011 Nightmare Girls Calendar and you can pre-order them now on their website. Thanks everyone, I can’t wait to see what the official calendar shot looks like so pre-order it now!
When I’m depressed, I never feel much like talking about it. That’s a big problem, too. I know people around me just want to help but there is nothing they can say to make me feel any less upset, ridiculous, pissed off, and/or suicidal. In fact, it’s when friends push me to talk when things tend to get worse. The only real friend I have right now that I see on a semi-daily basis constantly yells at me when I don’t talk to her. Yeah… like that is going to make me want to suddenly pour my heart out to you.
It’s so hard for people to realize that you can’t just snap out of depression. I’ve been told so many times by people to just “wake up” or “force a smile for God’s sake, things can’t be that bad!” I don’t even want to argue with them anymore. So I just smirk, nod and stare at the ground and think horrible things like “I just want to take an entire bottle of pills and stop hurting or hang myself in the garage so I don’t have to listen to people like you anymore telling me ’shit can’t be that bad’ because you know what? IT CAN AND IT IS!” I swear empathy doesn’t exist anymore. Everyone just wants to offer a quick fix but trust me, there isn’t one. There is absolutely nothing on earth you can say or do that will make me “snap out of it” and realize that I’m “just being silly’” or “too self-absorbed.”
I’ll stay in bed all day. And I really do mean that. An entire 16 hours will pass before I can even peel myself up off the sheets only to sit for another 45 minutes on the edge of the bed before taking my first step out of my room. My joints burn due to the fact that they’ve been in the same position hours on end so I can’t help but hunch over and spend the rest of the day in a state of bad posture. My brain sloshes around inside my skull, obviously turning to soup because I don’t think or move for many hours. And the headaches. I’ll have to take Clonazepam some nights to get me to sleep some nights or to stop me from crying. Anything that makes me pass out is a good thing because then I don’t have to think anymore. I can just dream and that giant lump in my throat will slowly shrink in size and disappear. Lately I’ve noticed there are nights where I must cry in my sleep because I awake with swollen lips and eyes and dried tears all over my face. I’ll quietly get up, change the pillow cases, and then try to fall back asleep.
Poor Toby will sit at the end of my bed for hours wondering when I’m going to get up. That’s what really kills me. I’ll be so down and sad, I can’t even get up to let my dog out. When I finally do, it takes every bit of energy my body can summon to walk up ten steps out of the basement. By the time I get to the top, I have to sit down for five minutes just to collect a little more energy to continue the walk to the back door to let him outside. Once I get him fed and make sure he’s pooped and peed, I slither back down to my room and throw myself back onto the bed. I find some sort of covers, throw them over my face, and disappear back into a darkness I can’t even begin to describe. Toby knows something is wrong and scurries back downstairs to cuddle up next to my head. I know the poor thing is probably wanting me to get up and play with him but he forces himself to fall back asleep with me just because it’s the only activity I can manage to do without feeling exhausted. And I know that he can feel the darkness inside of me and doesn’t know what else to do. Right now Toby really is the only thing keeping me alive. It’s sad but very true.
I was supposed to make a phone call today to my college regarding me not attending classes this fall. I couldn’t manage to make that call – a call I should have made months ago. But I literally cannot find the strength in me to dial the number and talk to the person on the other end of the line. It takes too much energy and mental will power that I just do not have. You might as well ask me to climb Mount Everest – it just won’t happen. And it’s worse when it comes to my family. My poor mother will call me every now and then and trying not to burst into tears on the phone with her is one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in a long time. What I really want to say to her is “No mom, I am not doing ok. Everyday I’m amazed that I’m still here; that I’m still fucking breathing. I am lonely as shit, I hate myself most days, and I hate opening my eyes in the morning because it hurts. It physically causes me pain. And I fucking hate it and I wish it was over with. I wish *I* was over with. I wish I was with dad because for once in my life, I know what he must have felt the day he killed himself – complete fucking despair and hopelessness.” But there is no way I can tell my elderly mother this (who worries about everything). How can I put that burden on someone else?
I can’t stand talking to people when I’m this depressed. There is nothing they have to say that will interest me or make me smile (I mean genuinely smile, not fake it). Sometimes after forcing myself to listen to someone ramble on about God knows what, I get the fierce urge to vomit. I just can’t take it and sometimes I’ll have to excuse myself to the bathroom and just lock myself in a stall for a minute or two and try to calm myself down. I don’t care, I just really do not fucking care. Shut up. I would rather stare at this disgusting toilet than listen to you talk right now. If that makes me a bad person, then so be it.
I’ve been off and on medications for years now and the most common question people ask me is “why don’t you just get on some antidepressants?” Well, first and foremost, I have tried some various medications that HAVE worked. However, when I say “worked,” I mean they completely managed to shut off most of my emotions in general and turned me into a zombie. I couldn’t focus, I couldn’t write, I couldn’t form sentences, I sounded like a babbling idiot, and more often than not people would tell me that something was missing from my eyes; some sort of spark. Sometimes I couldn’t even walk because my head would be spinning so bad from those damn pills and I’d have to stop for a second to compose myself. This, in my opinion, was no way to live. My grades suffered tremendously because I couldn’t understand anything that was being placed in front of me. These medications made me stupid and I felt like I needed a person by my side at all times to help me make the simplest of decisions. I can’t take these pills anymore and yet, it never fails – someone always tries to recommend a new medication to me. “Well, have you tried this? It works for me.” Yes. Yes, I have tried it. I have tried them all. Wellbutrin, Effexor, Lexapro, Celexa, Prozac… the list goes on and on. In fact, just thinking about how many different types of drugs I have pumped into my system the past few years makes me sick to my stomach. Antidepressants obviously work wonders for some people, don’t get me wrong. I’m just not one of them. It’s any wonder my brain is able to function anymore. But, having said that, I honestly think I might have to get back on them eventually. For how long, who knows. There are just some dark periods I experience that literally feel like they’re killing me (and they probably are).
So what am I depressed about? Joel, life, school, life, money, life, a job, life. Myself. Others. My failures. My weaknesses. My overdue bills. The trash piling up in my room. My weight gain. My weight loss. My hair. My skin. Not having food to eat. Not eating at all. Not having a life like normal people. Everything. Nothing. It’s the hardest thing in the world to describe.
…but then there’s the mania. And that’s when life is fine.
That will be my next blog entry… when I’m actually experiencing it. Because right now, I’m obviously not.
My name is "Stellar". Twenty-something year old female just trying to make her way through college and then medical school. I like cheese quesadillas, horror movies, my dog Toby, and my king sized bed. I hate not being able to find parking, the smell of weed, skipping class, and Heidi Montag. Click the "About" link at the top of the page for more intriguing information about yours truly and this wonderful domain of mine.
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson
