Sunday, April 30, 2017


I haven't been on meds since 2011. I have Medicare (the government put me on Medicare in 2012 without my consent when I was only thirty-nine...doesn't make any damn sense but not much does) which only pays for hospitalization. These past few years I have tried to maintain (and mostly suicide attempts unless you count alcohol poisoning on my fortieth birthday AND I made the dean's list TWICE at UTSA and I FUCKING GRADUATED, finally) by meditating, exploiting the usual outlets (art, writing, having sex with random men), drinking green tea, drinking lemon water, eating a fuckton of kale and asparagus and sleeping much more than the average human being over the age of five. Planet Fitness treadmill. Hula hoop. Dancing in Goodwill heels. I haven't had sex since I broke it off with the last ex and I can't say I miss it. My vibrator works fine. I no longer have the stomach for half-assed ambivalence. You know how it goes. Maybe you don't. This is how it goes for me, a love addict in recovery: I fall for a man for whatever fucking reason. Maybe his Mars impacts my Pluto in a really poignant and potent fucking way. Maybe I like his command of a foreign language. Maybe I like his hands. His voice. That's the normal biological part. But then the limbic xmas tree bullshit kicks in and I HAVE TO HAVE HIM whatever the cost. So I go there. I go all out. Balls to the wall. "Why must I be a teenager in love?" Except I ain't sixteen. But oops...he still loves his ex-wife or some bitch who broke his heart in 1985. He digs me, make no mistake. He loves fucking me. That's the no duh part, the hard dick and wet pussy part. That's the Tecate and Amy Winehouse on Saturday night and breakfast tacos on Sunday morning part. But beyond a good purposeful easy fucking...there's the now what? There's the stale donut and shitty coffee. There's the,"Let's take it a day at a time, Misti." So you can see how a bitch could remain discombobulated. Romantic love has always been hard-won for me, even when I was seventeen and a size zero. I chased both men who decided to marry me. I had to convince them I was worth a ring. I cut my teeth on Rapunzel, Snow White, "Gone with The Wind." The fairy tale silver screen magic big deal big time LOVE thing never happened for me. I've been teased by it for four decades and I am finally done. I'm bitter, yes. I don't want to be. I have had plenty of highs. I can say I've been to the ball. I've been to the banquet. Selah.

But. Wow. Excuse the ramble. I feel like I need meds again because I'm in dangerous territory. It's getting harder and harder to get out of bed and leave the house. I've often thought of selling my car, taking off, living in some rat hole motel room or studio apartment in another state or country, just hiding out, writing my little stories and poems, walking to the store, talking to the shadows and constellations and planets. Being balls to the wall batshit crazy and not apologizing for any of it. Pero. I have a son. I love him too much to abandon him for good. The few months I spent without him in San Francisco and Eagle Pass were more than enough. I've stared down the suicidal ideations because, finally, that's a legacy I don't want to leave my son. It's the deepest, strongest love I have ever experienced. I'm constantly humbled and amazed. So. I'm thinking of road tripping to Acuna, Mexico and loading up on meds. Prozac. Celexa.Whatever I can crush and snort with a rolled up dollar bill. Whatever the fuck can make me feel halfway human. I haven't bought meds in Mexico since 1990something when I bought a year's supply of birth control pills for something like twenty bucks. The last time I crossed in March 2016 I showed the border patrol asshole my passport and he didn't give me any trouble, just the usual terse lizard brain Texas drawl condescension. I hadn't sinned. Just traded a pair of wedges an ex bought me at Target for a silver tortuga necklace. I'm wearing it now.

My favorite jewelry is the jewelry I give myself. All the other stuff ends up at the pawn shop or on eBay.

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