Disconnected from my reflection

I had a huge PBA (Pseuobulbar affect) moment followed by a seizure.
I know what you are thinking-

She is so fucing lucky!

I know, right?
Seizures,  PBA?! I'M LIVING THE FUCKING HIGH LIFE!

Yeah,  OK , back to "reality" or whatever people call it nowadays.

I went to wash my face and BAM!
that's when it happened.
I looked in the mirror-
And had absolutely no clue what or  who  this reflection was.

Let me repeat- None!  No clue whatsoever!
I freaked out.
I knew it was a mirror.
But that wasn't me.
It couldn't be!
Who the fuck was that?
What happened?
Is this a trick?
How was I replaced with this. .this. .THING? !

I started touching my short dark brown hair,  that I had last remembered being dreadlocks,  my body was so much bigger, I looked older,  I looked bland. Pale.
No color.
No animation

This thing was me? ????
Couldn't be!
Can't be! !
Where am I? !
I want to be me again!
This isn't funny! !!!
What happened?!
Why why why

I tried to explain this to my family,  but no one understood,  or still understands.
It happened yesterday, you see?
And everyone thinks this will just go away and fix itself.
But it won't

I can't stand my reflection.
Because it isn't me.
This caging . This casing is A MISTAKE.

And I can't fix me.

been quiet for awhile

hey guys and gals!
I've been quiet for awhile- sorry about that.
A lot of things have been happening.
My birthday just passed. I turned 30 years old.
Usually, I would think nothing of it-
but for so many years, including this year- I couldn't see beyond the present day.
I never believed I had a future.
I still don't.
I spent a lot of time in crisis mode.
I lived a very fast, hard fucking life- in a short amount of time.
The point I'm getting at is that I never ever believed I'd make it to 30.
Not because my body would kill me (even though it's tried so very hard so many times), but that I would kill myself.
I tried during my stay in hospitals (plural). I not afraid of pain.
I LIVE through pain.
At least I've learned to tolerate it.
Since I feel physical pain all the time now.
Funny since when I was a child I didn't feel physical pain.
Didn't know I'd broken bones until the day afterwards.
I would run into door knobs to see if I could bust the door open with my head.
Yeah- I was a very "special" kind of child.
Didn't feel pain.
Now it seems that's all I do.
I have spent so many years poor, dirt poor, that I don't expect any type of gifts or even cake at this point.
I remember many birthdays miserable- broke and eating rice so that my family could afford to eat food.
I'm used to starving, I've done it for over two thirds of my entire LIFE! And no I do not "enjoy" starving anymore.
I was surprised on my birthday when my parents made a big deal about it.
It was very strange and a welcomed emotion from me.
The day in itself, was similar to every other day- until it came to dessert.
My dad had bought me a birthday cake!
Yes, it was one of the only flavors I dislike (chocolate mousse- eww!), but I didn't let him know.
I don't get moments like these from my dad, so I tried to enjoy this one.
As I was about to blow out the candles-I noticed there was no camera.
No, I'm not constantly posing for the camera-
it's a tradition of ours to take a photo of blowing out the candles every single birthday, like most families.
I asked Dave to get the camera, he seemed to not care.
This angered me a lot.
He knew the tradition, and why this birthday meant something to me, but he seemed too busy eating a burger to pay me any mind.
Needless to say, I blew out my candles without a photo to capture the moment.
I was furious and this sparked a huge argument between Dave and I.
I won't go into details, other than he did share that he's been depressed for many years now.
And can't "feel" happiness.
I starting writing this blog- two days ago-
in the middle of writing this my son starting puking he's guts out.
Everyone had the stomach virus and are still recuperating.
Now I continue this blog- days later- and I'm not feeling the same emotion I was when I was writing the blog.
Today it is Dave's birthday.
And like me, he never ever saw a future for himself.
Yet here we are on his 38th birthday, celebrating (kind of) with our two kids.
I want to make a big deal about it. But he still doesn't feel well- so buying a cake and going out, is out of the question.
And I think he's still depressed.
Plus today I get a call from my landlord that my CRAZY neighbor is complaining she doesn't have heat "because there are too many people here taking showers all day long".
Meanwhile she has five people living there, none of them little babies.
I only have two more people here, and they are both under four years old!
What a fucking crazy person!
Tell I meantion, she came knocking on MY door at 8p.m. a few night ago blaming me for her not having any hot water.
Even though I spend many days with no hot water myself!
Oy Vey!
It's times like these I really wish I had moved to Florida, instead of here.
And had our own house- with no landlord or upstairs neighbors complaining.

I dream of warm weather, our OWN place and no one to answer to.

I dream a dream worth living for.

Kisses Bitches!
I NEED MONEY! The LOTTO would be AWESOME!

My near fatal heart attack

Let me explain...
Yesterday I fucking faced death in the motherfucking eyes! And came out victorious!
YUP!
Yes I did!
Take that DEATH!!!
Last night, I cooked dinner, did some laundry and then went to the sink to wash some dishes...
And that's when it happened.
I had no idea a glass cup was broken and it slit two of my fingers.
Not wide open...but there was definitely enough blood.
And my blood looked like water, even though I was felt dehydrated most of the day.
I went to show my sister and my father all the blood- while they were busy eating the dinner I had just made.
I usually LIVE for these moments where I can freak my sister out, with my blood. Blood freaks her out. I don't mind blood at all.
I asked for a band aid- the blood wasn't stopping.
My dad freaked out, and basically ran around in circles for awhile- why? I have no clue. But if you know my father, this makes PERFECT sense.
My mom was shouting at everyone to get me a cup of orange juice...I have no idea why.
It wasn't low blood sugar.
But she thought for some reason that orange juice would help me NOT DIE!
I asked my sister to go get David from the bedroom. And QUICK!
By the time he came in (only a minute of so later) I felt nauseous, like I was going to puke. And my body felt heavy. My arms and legs were in such horrible pain.
I felt Dizzy, hot, nauseous and like I was going to shit myself all at the exact fucking time!
Then came the horrible feeling of DOOM.
My sight was closing in, getting smaller and smaller, and all I could hear was mumbling, and I was panicked! Really panicked. I had no idea why.
I kept telling myself.."Serena Why are you feeling this way?!"
"It's NOT REAL!!! WAKE UP DAMMIT! FUCKING GET OUT OF THIS NOW!"
I felt my body and everything around my closing in and coming to an end.
I couldn't walk or even stand.
I kept telling Dave, "I don't feel good. I don't feel good."
He kept asking me "HOW?" But I couldn't answer.
I thought to myself right then and there-
"Oh my god, I'm gonna fucking die, and be one of those fucking people to puke and shit themselves when I have a heart attack. Oh that's just fucking great!"
And still didn't ask my family to call 911!
I wasn't going to die in a fucking hospital. If I was going to die- and it was my time. Then it would be in my home, NOT IN A FUCKING hospital.
We were able to stop the bleeding and put some band-aids on my fingers, no need for stitches. PHEW!
Dave helped me get to the bathroom,
and I was feeling a tiny bit better, I knew- I had basically just saved myself.
I had no clue how, or even why it worked.
I laid in the tub filled with lukewarm water, we were out of hot water due to the washing machine (it hogs all the freaking hot water!GRRRR!)
I was in horrible pain, in both my arms and legs.
While limping to the bathroom, I felt like I had freaking broke my right foot.
I had no idea how? I didn't hurt my right foot. This confused me a lot.
My fingers ached- but didn't hurt.
I felt like I had just got into a fist fight and fucking LOST!
PAIN! INTENSE PAIN!
But I knew I was going to be okay, somehow.
When I was able to get out of the tub and come back into the living room, where my family was- I realized- I'm living in the fucking twilight zone!
My  entire family- was acting like nothing just happened!!!
My mom started complaining about the dinner I cooked, and how she wasn't in the mood for spinach.
Oh yea..and WHY was I cleaning her bedroom sheets?!
All I could think was...IS EVERYONE FUCKING NUTS??!

Am I in hell?? Did I just die?
What's wrong with my fucking family??!!!

But this is how my family handles things- pretend like nothing fucking happened.
OR they spiral into a deep depression.
Yeah- there's only two choices apparently.

I explained to my mom- "listen I almost just fucking died- and your complaining about DINNER?! and your sheets?!"
Are you all FUCKING WITH ME?!!!!

My mom responding, by laughter, like I was fucking making a joke of some sort.
And told me "I was just trying to get your mind off it".
At this point I'm angry. Really angry.
I felt "What the fuck is wrong with everyone?!"
Can nobody handle anything properly???

After I regained my appetite for awhile, I ate some food, the entire time, not believing what actually JUST fucking occurred!
A doctor I've been talking to, explained to me, that I probably have an electrical problem with my heart and need to see an electrical cardiologist.
Pace maker???! Who knows.
I probably went into a type of shock that confused my heart- hence the heart attack-like symptoms.
Oh lucky me, right?!
I was so exhausted after the whole incident, the kids were now in their cribs and falling asleep.
I asked Dave, "What the hell? Why is my family reacting like this?!"
He explained that because I didn't go to the hospital, they don't take me seriously.
His exact words:
"What they don't realize, is that you would gladly just die right here, even if your arm was chopped off, then ever ever EVER go to the hospital."

And he's right. I am an extremist when it comes to such things.
I feel people go to a hospital to DIE- not KEEP from dying.

I felt weirdly accomplished though, despite the near fatal heart attack.
I faced death! And came out ALIVE.
How? I don't know. Why it worked? I have no idea!
Was I afraid of dying? NEVER. Hence my suicidal tendencies.
I guess God, was telling me, that wasn't my time-
last night- and that I have a lot more to accomplish on earth but I croak.

And for that, I'm thankful.
I don't feel confident in the caring for my children, if and when I pass away.
I NEED to know, they will be taken great care of-
And I don't feel that confident just yet.

So...Thanks God! Two Thumbs UP!
I guess I'm a lot more powerful, than I give myself credit for.
I man, I fucking WON the fight!
How many people can say that, right?!

My search for a great electrical cardiologist continues.
My SAGA continues.

Kisses Bitches!!!

* photo of DEATH from Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey (I love this movie)

BTW- Dave says If he ever died before me, he gives me permission to go ahead and marry Keanu.
This makes me laugh.
Because Keanu is WAY too cool and all around awesome, to like me, this I'm sure of.

Violet's worst week ever!

Violet has had her worst week ever so far.
She doesn't transition well at all to change- and everything changed for her this week, new school, therapists- you name it. I feel so bad for her.
She's having a meltdown!

Today at sensory gym during physical therapy (PT- for short) lost her damn mind!!!
She was ALL over the place- going to hurt herself- it was insanity!
The PT was sweating her ass off, she looked a wreck half way through the session, the poor girl.
I felt bad for Violet- but worse for the therapist!

Violet has the strength of at least 100 men- AT LEAST!
There's this fully enclosed swing made of a Lycra/elastic type material- fully closed. And VIOLET used all her strength and got out of it!!! Like she was being born all over again!!!
It was so funny- and scary at the same time. Everyone at the gym was SHOCKED! They'd NEVER seen this done before.
The PT called her the Incredible Hulk! Like I said it was insane!

All the kids there- have all kinds of disabilities. This one kid, was about 13 years old and had Down's syndrome- he looked at my daughter running around crazy and asked his therapist- "What is she doing??!" The therapist answered "Running? Playing??"
The kid gave Violet the ONLY look- like YOU'RE FUCKING NUTS!!!

Every kid there was looking at Violet like- You got problems kid!!!"

I was exhausted- but not as much at the PT. I'm not used to her like this- but I am used to her running and running and running- and having to run after her all the time.
Half way through the session and Violet's meltdowns- I grabbed her- picked her up in my arms and said "That it!!! Violet we are leaving!"
I carried her to her stroller- clipped her in- and she calmed down- as calm as a cucumber practically.

Did I mention that before I took her to the gym, I went food shopping and mopped the entire house?! Yeah- I'm spent at this point.
My brain is complete mush.

With Levi and Violet both losing their minds this week- I can barely stand.
I have a hard enough time- getting my family to babysit when my kids are normal- well, normal for them. Now with them going nuts- I can't go anywhere!!!
My kids are a handful and a half- it's not easy for me- I would never ever trust a babysitter- ever!

I was a babysitter for a very long time- I cared about each kid as if they were my own. I would never ever let anything happen to them- I would've taken a bullet for them- I'm not even joking. They were like my own.
But I saw many other babysitters in my time- that didn't give two shits about the kids they barely watched.

When I get home from leaving the kids with my mom and sister, they look completely wiped out- and the kids are still going. But unlike a babysitter- I trust my family.

Dave says I micro-manage and I agree. I like things done a certain way: correctly;)

Anyways that's enough crazy for one blog post,


Kisses Bitches!!!

*photo: Happy Bunny