Ok, so, New Years. Tensions rising like crazy, people breaking things and such. I got called a bitch first thing in the morning, so that was lovely. What the fuck ever. I'm busying myself with applications. Sadly I have no skills whatsoever except photography, at least somewhat, so I'm applying to cheesy portrait studios! I've done it before and I can do it again! Glamour Shots here I come! I actually secretly love it. I love taking pictures of boys with their fists placed thoughtfully under their chins! I'm not being sarcastic, it's a real thrill.
Not a thrill: waiting around in a mall for two friggin babies who got LOST. (YOU ARE GROWN-UPS, people!). Trying to explain to someone with Asperger's why no one is going to invest in his idea of taking down a state park in New Jersey so he can build a replica of Coney Island, getting my eyebrows plucked by an ex-con. If it wasn't so awful, this place would be pretty funny. And my eyebrows look sexcellent. But now she is plucking the eyebrows of all the boys! Leave them brows alone! People are allowed to have unibrows, there is no shame in a unibrow! Another thing! Two girls told me today that they are grossed out by pubic hair ON MEN! First of all, whaaaat? Second of all, stubble. Third of all, the atrocious vanity of it all! And finally, if you don't appreciate a happy trail you are made of stone. Is this a common notion among the uninteresting? It's not OK for ANYONE to have ANY body hair? Everyone is supposed to look like a giant naked alien baby? I am so weirded out by this. It's like all regular people have become pedophiles now.
Anyway, good riddance to bad rubbish. So glad this year is over. You know it was supposed to be the best year of my life? You know, getting married, getting a house. I really thought it would be the most perfect year, when I finally started my real life. Now here I am, farther away from a real life than I've ever ever been before. BUT! Let's say it's going to get better. Even if it isn't, let's say it is. That this program will fix my brain. That I'll come back to California, get back my man, love and be loved by all my friends, finally get my cat to stop biting, open my own studio, etc. Let's just say 2011 will be the year it happens. Because if I don't say that, this is just too hard.

So, today was the day I lost it. I knew it was coming, and come it did, exactly six weeks in. For the second week in a row, my therapist failed to get in touch with the TLLC porgram, which means I am still stuck only going for three hours a week, rather than being there ALL day, EVERY day, which is what I really need. I am at a fucking TREATMENT center. All I am asking for is TREATMENT. I know what I need to be doing, I need to be learning how to take care of myself. I don't need to be sitting in the fucking villa, or going on little field trips to the bookstore. I KNOW HOW TO GO TO THE FUCKING BOOK STORE! There are so many immature idiots who are getting in trouble at every turn who are getting to level up faster than me, for no reason other than their therapists are actually paying attention to their needs.
When I found out things still hadn't been taken care of, I burst into tears. I am so angry. I am so so so so angry. My parents won't help me because they don't trust me about anything. Whatever my therapist says is always right. Even if I say otherwise, other therapists say otherwise, anyone. It doesn't matter that many therapists have led them astray over and over again. They are inclined to believe ANYONE over me.
I raged. I didn't exactly yell but I cried and carried on quite a bit. I haven't done that since I've been here but I did today. And I let the lady in charge know that I need a new therapist. If she's not going to help me get well, I will find someone who will.
I felt a little better after going to the YMCA. (Eew, I'm becoming one of those people who talk about the emotional benefits of exercise!)

I don't think my sleeping meds are working anymore. I'm not sleeping. You'd think a trazadone as big as a fucking horse pill would get me to sleep, but no. I lie in bed and think about California.
Just think about Northern California for a minute. Was there ever a place so magical? I mean, we have the biggest tree in the world. The biggest tree in the world! That is god damn amazing. What does Florida have? The biggest water park in the world, maybe? What the fuck ever.
Yesterday I asked a violent felon to straighten my hair. These things happen. One day you have a husband and a cat and beautiful friends all around you, the next day a girl fresh out of prison is wielding something dangerous right next to your ears.
Anyway, my hair looks really great straightened. The balminess of Florida combined with my Halloween bleach job has really screwed up my curls and I was looking a little berserk. But the fact that it looks good straightened is also a problem because now I'm actually going to have to DO it all the time. And every time someone says "Oh, you're hair looks so good straightened!" I feel like they're saying "You're hair usually looks like shit, you fat bitch." And, really, isn't hair straightening something that terribly NORMAL girls do? And why is a very minor hair procedure causing me so much angst, anyway?
I know I keep reiterating this, but seriously, I am SO DONE with these people. We went to Target (again, again, again) and someone got busted shoplifting? I mean, come on. We're in a treatment facility! Why can't you just try to act normal for one second?! You have to believe me, I am feeling very violent. I want to bite and punch and kick (mostly bite). I'm sad to say that I have felt violent in this way before and actually lost it and hurt people, so at least I'm not actually DOING anything. But I've never wanted to lash out so bad, especially not over an extended period of time. Shut up you absolutely selfish morons! I swear to God, if nothing else, I am going to be a hell of a lot less self-absorbed when I get out of this stupid place.
This morning Jon called again at an ungodly hour. The talk was extremely intense and included bits about dancing to dub-step and the movie "Fantastic Mr. Fox", as they relate to our relationship. I was crying like hell, but more about not wanting to be here and being so utterly fed up and knowing it isn't working and wanting to be with the people I love than what was going on in the conversation. Although it did make me feel so, so much regret. How could I have let things get to this point? How could I have done this to myself, and my husband? I'm always confused when people say they have no regrets. How can that be? I regret, like, more than half of my whole life, I swear.
Despite all that, talking to Jon actually did make me feel hopeful. I know I've said this before, only to be sent into pits of despair after the next conversation (not necessarily Jon's fault!). But that doesn't matter. I need to be in the present. So for now, it's OK.
I worked out for the first time in like a week. I started a new painting in art therapy. I went to two groups and participated and got at least minor elucidation out of them, even if a lot of my energy was spent keeping myself from screaming at people to shut up. Seriously though, people. Shut up.

The big news of the day is that the idiot skater guy had sex with the resident sex addict, which everyone knows we AREN'T SUPPOSED TO DO! The sex addict is long gone now. Don't think she'll be back. The skater guy should get his ass handed to him but it isn't going to happen, because there is no justice in this place. None. I feel really bad for that girl.
I woke up sooo late because I have to take benadryl every six hours and as you can imagine that is really screwing with my sleep cycle.
When I finally got to the villa I worked on this rad stationery that my mom gave me where you embroider the fronts of the cards. It is really cool and pretty! And it takes up time, which is an absolute necessity around here! I love embroidery!
In the afternoon we went to this really amazing independent movie theatre. It had plush chairs around tables and they served real food! We watched a movie with Kirsten Dunst and Ryan Gosling called "All Things Good" which was only OK! A fellow patient described it as "Psycho combined with a Lifetime movie, except with good actors", which is pretty accurate. I'll watch Ryan Gosling in anything, I don't care what kind of dreck it is. Wait, I forgot about "The Notebook". That actually is probably too bad to be overcome by my love for Ryan Gosling.
Wrote some letters, peed 1,000 times, now I'm about ready for bed. So glad Anti-Christmas is over, so ready to move on.

Anti-Christmas Takeoverrrr!

Oh! I forgot to mention I got another killer package from Alexa! Collages, magazine inserts, a dress! Very exciting. What's up with all you lame-os who I've written and you haven't written me back? Boo.
On Anti-Christmas Eve, we went to this thing called "Light Up UCF" (that's University of Central Florida). They kept telling us it would be this cool carnival or something. But when we got there, it was immediately apparent that we had been duped. It was patently and purely for kidz only. There was a small ferris wheel, a carousel, a tiny ice slide, cookie decorating, and a choo-choo train. Oh, and of course ice skating, an activity I refuse to participate in on account of I would IMMEDIATELY bodily injure myself. So I was just sitting out in the hot freaking sun. And then I noticed the hives.
Yes, Virginia, there IS an Anti-Claus. He comes and fills your stocking with allergic reactions, and everyone hates him!
So most of the rest of the day was spent dealing with the hives. They wouldn't take me to the hospital until 8 o'clock. Of course, the person driving me had to first stop and get cigarettes. Of fucking course.
At the emergency room, I heard a woman tell her six-year-old to shut the fuck up!
The doctors gave me benadryl and steroids, with instructions to take more. Blah blah blah, whatever. I am itchy.
And today, finally, Anti-Christmas. It started in typical Anti-Christmas fashion, being woken up to pee. Like ten times. So much pee. It's the steroids. Of course it's like 70 degrees outside. Then my mom called and said for me to get on skype to open presents. I had to get a ride over to my house. And then when I got there, first of all, they couldn't figure out how to skype. And then they refused to find the presents I bought and sent them out from under the tree. They just wanted me to sit there and open presents while they watched and... fuck that? That is depressing. No one can make a tiny little fucking adjustment for me, stuck here in utter hell all by myself? No no no.
I so completely don't need to be here. We do nothing all damn day. I am getting totally nothing out of this, no matter how much I participate, no matter how hard I try. Get me the fucking hell out of here, PLEASE.
Everyone else (btw, when I say "everyone else" that includes like 4 people. Pretty much everyone gets to be with their family but me) went to a highly retarded movie ("Little Fockers". THIS IS WHAT I HAVE TO DEAL WITH, PEOPLE!). So I went back to my house and actually did manage to skype with my family. We opened up some presents. The thing I sent my mom didn't show up yet, which seriously pissed me off. I got some nice things, like new Minnetonkas is a pretty blue-gray color, an ipod shuffle, a pillowcase embroidered by my sister, cool stationery, and money to get myself a bike here. I asked my mom to get me a stuffed animal (it is very weird not to have anyone or anything to hug or touch) and for some reason she sent me some old ones of my sisters? She also managed to get me the hugest underpants of all time. Whoa, I may be fat, but I'm not THAT fat. But all together, it wasn't bad, considering that this IS Anti-Christmas and all.

I have basically nothing to report about the last two days. My second favorite schizophrenic came back, so that's good. I went to the ceramics place, so that's good. But I'm sick, I'm tired, I'm lonely. Had a few horrible phone calls. This really, really doesn't feel like Christmas. This is anti-Christmas. The holiday where it isn't cold, you don't decorate, and you aren't around people you love. Anti-Christmas.

Starting Yesterday:
We went to see this thing called "Ice!" at a resort called "Gaylord Palms" (hee). Basically it's this huge walk-through ice sculpture with slides and stuff. Only it's much less impressive than it sounds. The ice was made out of this compressed shit and dyed colors, it was kind of bogus. There was one part, a nativity scene, which was an actual ice sculpture, and that was totally rad. Icy baby Jesus, y'all! The other cool thing is that the place was kept at 9 degrees. The cold was quite a novelty. They even gave you parkas when you came in.
Back at the villa, we had a community meeting, because all the rules have kind of totally deteriorated and everyone is fucking insanely rude and everything is totally shitty. The meeting was really tense and brought out the worst in everybody. Some people couldn't stop talking and talking and talking (including the Know-It-All, who REALLY just drives me nuts. Dude! You are a patient here! You do not know the definitive answer to all my life's problems!). A lot of people stormed off. No taking responsibility whatsoever.
After that total fucking debacle, I went with my therapist to run some errands, including sending out some Christmas presents. So, that was a thing.
After dinner a patient ran away and the cops were called and everything. Third time the cops arrived since I've been here. It was monstrously stressful. He did come back, but I don't like seeing the cops, period. They terrify me.
Fast forward to today, and another patient took off. This time it was one I actually cared about, my second favorite schizophrenic. No one will tell me what exactly happened, but they say he's safe, so he's probably been found and sent to a real psychiatric hospital. In other words, still worried about him.
There was a really unhelpful Grief and Loss Group (I'm grieving over my marriage, my grandmother, my freedom, etc). Basically we just say how crappy we're feeling and how much we miss things, and... that's it. There is almost no therapy here, maybe 45 minutes a week of one-on-one time with your therapist, that's it. Everything is just based on participation. I really don't know if this is the best model but whatever. In today's therapy session I cried for the first time. I'm having a hard time. This is hard.
I did get to go on this cool outing with TLLC. We went on a boat tour through the lakes of this really ritzy neighborhood called Winter Park. The boat driver was this funny old man who was full of information and jokes. I love being on boats, and it is always sooo nice to get the hell away from the villa.

Yesterday at the villa, we had the morning group from hell. No one seems to be able to stop being purposefully offensive and utterly juvenile for one god damn minute. I was so pissed off and frustrated, I was seriously a hair away from jumping off the couch and screaming at everyone. I'm actually surprised I didn't do it. Afterwards I was so worked up I could barely unclench my fists. But I talked to one of the therapists and we formulated a plan to bring in some sensitivity training. They have some programs that are kind of fun and aimed at young people, they used to run them sometimes at the Teen Center, back in the day. So, hopefully some good is going to come from this utter fucking mess.
I feel like I've hit some kind of one-month wall. All of a sudden I'm missing home way more, falling back on bad eating habits, and getting more and more annoyed with the idiot patients here. I don't know what my problem is. I need to step my shit up.
We went and saw "The Fighter" and it was pretty incredible. Go see it! Some fine, fine acting in that movie. Seeing something that I enjoyed helped calm me down somewhat.
At the end of the day I went to a thrift store where I found a copy of "The Yiddish Policemen's Union", another Michael Chabon book, which I have been meaning to read. So far it's a little noir-ish for my tastes, but I'll give it a few chapters. My Favorite Schizophrenic asked to borrow it when I was done, so I'm excited to give it to him. Speaking of Schizophrenics and books, my second favorite schizophrenic can see auras! How cool is that! A giant mechanic from Long Island, and he can see auras! He didn't even know what it was called, he just told me recently that he could see different colors coming from different people and I was like "Dude, that is an incredible gift that can be used for good!" So I am going to get him a book on the power of healing auras and I hope he chooses to use his talent.
Anyway, today was much easier. We went to the science museum (well, a few of us. Most people are too uncreative to get off the fucking couch for anything but bowling, the mall, or an action movie). The science museum was incredibly cool. There were crystals, dinosaur bones, an old planetarium that has been converted into an insane movie theatre, a booth that simulates a hurricane, all sorts of cool shit. I love science museums! That's pretty much all that occurred today. Sundays are usually pretty sparse. I tried to convince people against eating veal at dinner, but no one would listen to me. Pretty much a hell of a lot of people think I'm an uptight liberal bitch. Whatever. You don't know me! I do what I want!
Took pictures at the science museum so I will have some to post for the time being! Look, it's the same model that's on the cover of In Utero! Unfortunately I ran out of battery power before we reached the dinosaur room, but I've still got some stuff that I like.

Woken up at 4 in the morning by a phone call from Jon. Confusing and heartbreaking as usual. This is the fault of us both, but today it was Jon who made the call. We called back and forth over the course of the day. I never felt any better. I don't think he did either.
Today was the Christmas party at the Villa. It was supposed to be fun but I was in a black mood from the very beginning. Had to abandon my diet for the day because at lunch there was only, like, a chocolate fountain and pigs in a blanket and stuff. Then we opened presents, first from our secret santas (mine was the Aspergers girl. she made me a necklace which i will wear a couple times so she thinks i like it, although i don't). Then we opened one from the staff (i asked for accessories from H&M. they got me accessories from Claire's. Again, I will wear them just enough so that they think I like them, then bury them in the backyard). Then one of the patients who is a know-it-all try-hard (he's friendly enough, he just can't stop giving generic advice to save his life) actually bought everyone presents because, like I said, he's a try-hard. I got two books, first "Perks Of Being A Wallflower" (which I read when I was 15 and had the distinct impression that it was too young for me, even then) and then "The Sweet Hereafter" which is the basis for the movie of the same name, which is basically Jon's favorite movie, which means it will be too painful to read it. So, basically the presents were a total bust. But I did enjoy giving my second favorite schizophrenic his Diet Coke notebook!
Nothing really happened after that. I got a TB shot, that was it. Oh! And then I got home and found out Captain Beefheart died! I feel sick and tired and so, so sad. This is probably the worst day here since the first week I came.

Two amazing things happened on this mostly very bland day.
First, I got a mysterious package in the mail? Who sent it? I don't know! It was a cigar box stuffed with antique photographs, which I collect. (To see my collection, go here ). Such a wonderful gift! I spent about an hour sorting through my new treasures. I found about ten that will make it into the permanent collection, as well as an awesome cabinet card of an old bearded man that might end up on the wall. No one but the Art Therapist could understand why I thought they were so cool. But at least she understood! Collecting strange and beautiful vintage photos has been such an awesome hobby, I am so glad I picked it up (I started at a flea market in Beverly Hills).
Then, I was talking to My Favorite Schizophrenic about our favorite bands, and he said he loved Courtney Love and Hole best! Aaaaah WHAT? No one but me likes Hole! I LOVE THEM TOOOOO! Seriously, Hole, and Courtney Love, were SUCH a big part of the shaping of my life. If I hadn't fallen in love with them in 8th grade, well, I would have avoided a lot of trouble, but I think I would have ended up NORMAL (noooooo!). So, yes, that band is the reason I learned about punk, feminism, poetry, so many things. I do realize that Courtney Love has rendered herself totally inhuman, but she was so wonderful back in the 90s. And My Favorite Schizophrenic is in on it too! He says they changed his life! He says "Malibu" is the best song he ever heard! He hates on the people who think Courtney killed Kurt, just like me! HOW does this guy continue to be so fucking amazing? Eventually the conversation degraded into him talking about how the pixels of his camera could scan the truth out of the television (I don't know) but for those few moments of clarity and shared affinity, I was so happy I could almost fly.

This morning, all I wanted to do was get a damn pedicure. My feet were in majorly dire straits and it just had to happen. So I went to the nail place, dealt with the Vietnamese people who are almost positively talking to each other about me while they work, and then was ready to get the hell out of there. (I got my toes done hot pink with gold sparkles, by the way). But no. They did not accept checks. Finally they agreed to take my check (and my i.d.) to somewhere else and run it through some machine. That took like ten minutes, and then they said that it didn't work because it was out-of-state. (Keep in mind that all of this is being related in tragically broken English which I can barely understand, and that the man I was dealing with had four hairs growing out of his giant mole, each one at least five inches long, seriously). I tried to get him to take my phone number so he could call me if the check didn't go through, and charge me an extra fee. He said no. I asked him if he could run a credit card with just the numbers, not with the actual card (my card got stolen, remember?). He said no. Finally I realized that I would have to go to one of those cash-advance places, write a check to myself, and cash it. He took my phone for collateral. At the check cashing place, they made me give a thumb print (twice), as well as two in-state references, and fill out like four forms before they gave me my fucking money (they took 9.9% of the transaction, of course). Then I finally made my way back to the fucking nail place and paid them. The whole thing took THREE FUCKING HOURS!!!! What a bunch of fucking assholes!!!!
After that I went back to the main treatment center and got a very wonderful surprise! Two packages from Alexa! She sent over a post card, some stationery illustrated by Andy Warhol, some pop rocks and chocolate covered berries (my favorite candy!), some "Keep Calm and Carry On" tissues, the new Bust magazine with Liz and Agent Ribbons in it, some Ganglians clippings, a Midtown Monthly, and an amazing little book she put together of a bunch of ridiculous things for me to draw ("the contents of a gnome's pocket", "self-portrait as an R&B star") and instructions to draw all of the listed items, then to write my own prompts on the back of the pages, send it back, and then she would do my suggestions and send it back to me! The whole bundle made me soooo so happy! It totally made an otherwise pretty crappy day so wonderful!
After opening my prizes, it was time to go to TLLLC (remember? the higher level I was telling you about? I'm going Wednesday afternoons). We were doing some charity work, and went to give toys to a bunch of disabled children who live in a "home". Frankly, I was terrified. I know it's so horrible, but I am afraid of the disabled. It is so horrible of me, I know! But I was like shaking and sweating and feeling like I was going to cry the whole time. I did a good job hiding it, though. I just waited until we got back, cried a tiny bit while compulsively washing my hands (one of the children licked my hand!). Then I took a pill and I was alright. I feel like a very bad person.
Went to get bubble tea and My Favorite Schizophrenic came along. He wanted to speak Japanese with the people who work there. Unfortunately, My Favorite Schizophrenic does not know Japanese. He spoke with them totally in gibberish. However, afterwards, he was very happy and remarked on what a nice conversation it had been. So I'm happy for him!
On the schizophrenic tip, my second favorite schizophrenic, the giant guido, confessed to having a crush on me. He is a highly paranoid, middle aged man who weighs like 400 pounds. I said "thank you!" and we left it at that. Oh lord.
TLLC had cooking group, we did it at "my" house. It was nice getting to talk to some new people, we made digorno pizzas, whatever. It was pleasant.
Then back to the main treatment center. There are TWO new girls! One of them is a bi-polar jock, and the other is pretty. The pretty one worries me, because it will cause drama, period. When I asked my room mate what she thought of her, she said "She's OK, but she's not as pretty as me." and she cited some other sources who agreed that the pretty new girl was not, indeed, as pretty as my room mate. See how this is already happening? See what I have to live with?

One month officially down. Hopefully only two more to go.

No Pictures, Just For The TIme Being, Sorry.

Yesterday it was announced that a staff member, who had fallen ill before I got here, had died. I didn't know the man so I didn't feel much, but a whole bunch of the other patients turned the whole thing into a big game of "How can I make this situation more about me?" So much trying to turn the conversation about some poor man's death to, like, how THEY were sadder than ANYONE ELSE. So many crocodile tears. It made me sick.
The new guy talks shit about the Aspergers girl all the time. He even pulled up her facebook page in his room and invited other people to come and mock it. Then, at Target, he convinced her to buy him headphones. Everyone is so god damn mean! It's like high school, but worse. High school if everyone there was totally mentally unstable.
I am so god damn tired of these people. I do like some of them, but the ones I like keep a much lower profile. The awful ones are always out making a god damn spectacle of themselves.
Some infuriating statements that I have heard over the last couple of days:
"I hate movies without special effect." (followed by) "There ARE no movies without special effects, idiot."
"Girls with short hair are ugly."
"We weren't allowed to shave at our last program, but this one girl pulled out all her leg and armpit hair. I think that's better than just being hairy."
"I would be friends with a lesbian, but only if she was hot."
"Black girls: I'm not a fan."
"Do you know that some people don't circumcise their sons? It's because they are too cheap to pay $100 at the hospital."
Aaaahhhh! I just want to THROTTLE someone!
My parents are driving me crazy, too. They just repeat themselves over and over again and it's so frustrating. I can't keep myself from screaming at them. I want to scream at everyone. I'm all tense and scream-y. And it's not mental illness! It's because people are assholes. I am accepting zero responsibility for this one.
The weather in Florida is finally getting cold. But guess what? Back to 77 degrees on Friday. Ugh whyyyyyyy? Fuck. That. Shit.
And today, I ate a piece of chocolate cheese cake, which I am going to be making up for like all week. I am not losing much weight anymore (although I am at least maintaining).
Art therapy was a saving grace, though. I did an oil painting of some underwater ghosts.
Other positive things: I talked to the cutest boy in the program about our mutual love of musicals (his favorite is Les Miserables, mine is West Side Story). I also had a very beautiful dream about a photo shoot, black and whites of two little naked girls, covered in a huge pile of tiny silver fish.
That's all. The end.

So, I am writing this like three hours earlier than I usually do. The reason for this is that I am hella sick and I had to come home early. Pretty much all I've done today is lie on couches and try to sleep (I can't since, as I have mentioned before, THIS PLACE IS SO FUCKIN NOISY!). What I did manage to do today was go to the movies and see "The Tourist" which is a pretty pointless movie unless all you want out of a movie is to look at very good-looking people. It's got a lot of that.
The other thing that happened on this crappy, crappy day is that someone somehow stole my credit card information and has been using it all over the place. What have they been spending my money on? McDonalds, tons of it, over $20 every time they go; the Good Will, seriously, if you have a stolen credit card, why go to Good Will? Porn rental, of course, quite a bit of it; and $400 at someplace called "Auto Gator", which, I'm guessing... rims? Anyway, fuck those guys. At least I caught it before it could go any further but seriously, damn! Blah blah blah, I miss home. The picture on top is exactly where I want to be right now.

In My Favorite Schizophrenic news:
He asked me how "The Tourist" was, then regrettably informed me that Johnny Depp is, indeed, dead.

Got sooo tired today that I had to ditch out on two expeditions, one to the movies to see "Chronicles of Narnia" (no big loss there, really) and one to Michael's craft store (wish I had gone). I had to just hang out at home for a bit and let my exhaustion wash over me. No idea where it came from. I did manage to attend morning and closure group, so it wasn't a total loss of a day. Most of the boys in the program have got Call of Duty: Black Ops fever. (It's a video game). There is loud shooting going on all day long.
I forgot to mention that yesterday this aspergers/bipolar girl (she's 18) asked me to go to lunch with her. This girl can be sweet, although deeply irritating, so I went. I need to practice being around people I don't totally love, anyway. I can tell she really wants to be my friend, so I'm trying to appease her as much as I can. It isn't feasible to actually be friends with her, but she's super sensitive so I'm just going to do my best to make her happy while still trying to keep my distance. We went to a vegan cafe and I got some awesome mashed potatoes and a chocolate chip cookie. I'm so glad I got turned on to vegan baked goods before I left Sacramento. They are so lovely.
In My Favorite Schizophrenic News, before he got to Orlando, he used to gets whole pounds of thai marijuana delivered to him by government helicopters! Now he can't smoke anymore because, as you are all aware, an eighth costs $250.

The photo is of a little tableau that Adrian created, back in Sacramento. I'm kind of running out of Florida pictures (I haven't been very inspired) so I might start posting some more older ones.

I missed a day again. What a crappy blogger.

Yesterday:
I woke up having had some very intense dreams. First there was a very frustrating, "Groundhog Day"-style dream that seemed to go on forever. God, this PLACE is like "Groundhog Day". I just hope that the lesson I need to learn isn't to get good at bowling. Then, right before I woke up, I dreamt I was flying over hills and forests wearing an enormously poofy wedding dress that felt like a down comforter. That one is open to interpretation.
The day was absolutely all about a big trip to the obscenely huge and quite fancy Florida Mall. I, of course, don't really dig malls too much, plus I already got gifts for everyone I needed to get gifts for, because I totally rock at Christmas shopping. So I just kept to myself and tried to find some things I needed like a belt (successful) and some jeans (unsuccessful). Buying jeans is even more painful than buying bras. Towards the end of the seemingly endless mall trip I did hang out with some residents who I do, begrudgingly, enjoy. So that's nice. But I'm also kind of irritated that I even have to make friends here. Even if they're nice, there is still no reason for me to even know these people. Do that make any sense?
Back at the main treatment center, I finished my book. I'm in mourning. I never wanted it to end. Now I have started "Water for Elephants" by Sarah Gruen, so there is hope for me yet.
We're doing a secret santa thing here. I pulled the giant guido schizophrenic, aka my SECOND favorite schizophrenic. Actually, I pulled the pathetic, angry little white gangsta, aka my sworn enemy (although I don't think he knows this). Thank god that my second favorite schizophrenic confided in me that he had pulled his own name and didn't know what to do. I happily swapped with him. I bought him a notebook with Diet Coke on the cover, because he is the main leader of the great Florida soda wars. His lust for Diet Coke knows no bounds. When they cut him off of Diet Coke, he buys Diet Cokes for other people and just watched them drink it. I hope he digs the present.
After the mall, the day was pretty much uneventful, except for some rather disturbing acting-out at closure group. But, whatever. On to another day.

Today:
I have next to nothing to report about today. I went to the YMCA, you know what that's about. I went to the pottery painting place, I've told you about that, too. Nothing really new.
I've pretty much established myself as the favorite "just friends" girl among the boys of the program. Only my room mate gets any attention in a "not just friends" way. I comfort myself by knowing that, a) I absolutely don't want to hook up with these people anyway, b) I told everyone that I am married (true) so they mentally crossed me off the list, c) at least I have friends and am popular, and d) I don't have to be involved in any of the despicable high school drama that in-house relationships invariably bring. So, good all around. I don't need boys throwing themselves at my feet out of insane, overwhelming love. No sir.

The picture on top is of Natalie Portman and Mila Kunis making out.

Oh no! Blog writing is becoming trying! Must...keep...going!
Yesterday the vast majority of my time was taken up by reading. "The Children's Hospital" by Chris Adrian is almost too good to be true. The apocalypse comes, the world is covered with water, and the only people alive are the doctors, nurses, and sick children of a giant floating children's hospital, which is operated by an angel. It is just insanely good. You know when you're deep into a book and your real life becomes a distraction, just something keeping you away from the far more interesting world inside your book? I am getting that very very much. I even feel like my blog changes voices ever so slightly depending on which book I am engrossed in. I haven't read so much for a very, very long time. I don't know if it's necessarily a good thing. I just get obsessed. The stories become all I can think about. I don't think I've read four novels in a row, reading every day, since I was in elementary school. It feels wonderful, but I'm worried that I'm isolating. Maybe I should try to limit myself to a set number of hours a day? I will work on this.
Today was crazy busy, so I wasn't able to read quite so much. First thing in the morning I had a podiatrist appointment. Did you know that half of my right big toe has gone numb? It is really weird. They didn't know what the deal was but gave me some antibiotics to see if that would right it. It wasn't until I got in there that I realized I really should have gotten a pedicure first. Eww, gross feet! After the podiatrist I had to jam back to the main facility, take some meds, down some food, then jam over to the dentist. I was due for a 6-month cleaning. That's right, I actually go to the dentist every six months, just like they tell you to. I do not, however, floss. The dental hygienist was extremely chatty, which I hate. Don't talk to me, lady! I can't talk back because you have your damn hands in my mouth! Do these people pursue this career just so they can have a captive audience? Then it was time to jam back to the main facility once again so that I could jam over to my first day going to the higher, more functional level of treatment, TLLC. I really want to be there because it works on the things I actually need, rather than in the main area, where it's really more about just getting stabilized than getting the skills you will use when you're out of here. First I had a Life Skills group where we were talking about relationships and different levels of friendship and things like that. It was good information, but I must say, the people over at TLLC are not much less freaky than the people at the main treatment center. That is to say, pretty damn freaky. But I don't care. I will spend all damn day with them if that's what it takes to gain the knowledge I need and go HOME. After Life Skills there was cooking group, but that was kind of aborted because the leader didn't know that it takes like a million hours to cook brisket. So mostly it was just sitting around in a group compiled mainly of strangers. It will be better next week. I need to be able to cook for myself! No more Life cereal for breakfast, lunch and dinner!
Anyway, go get a copy of that book I told you about.

The picture is of a perfectly linear squirrel. The squirrels here are much smaller and cuter than the fluffy-tailed rats we have in Sacramento. One of Florida's few redeeming qualities.

I realized I have not blogged about a big event that happened this week, which is that I got a new cousin! Hello, little Ben. Welcome to the earth. That's him in the corner. He is very squishy looking!
I went to all the groups today. I went on all the outings. I went to the YMCA and I paced myself at meals. I did everything I was supposed to do. It's becoming a little monotonous, obviously.
Cold has finally come to Orlando, and people are freaking out. It's like a nuclear winter, apparently. Toughen up, kids! Mid-50s is a perfectly decent temperature for December! I took a walk without a jacket and I was a-ok.
Finished reading "The Adventures of Kavalier and Clay" and have moved on to "The Children's Hospital" which I am already enthralled by. Getting really into reading, art, and writing has been the most thrilling part of this exercise so far.
My therapist thinks I should probably stop contacting Jon. Actually, everyone thinks this, including Jon himself. I'm still not sure. I just want everyone to remember me. People have such short memories, even for things they love.

I find it extremely tedious to write blog entires on days like this, but I feel like I have to or else I will get out of the habit. Keeping a journal of this time, not to mention keeping my loved ones updated, is a serious commitment and if I don't keep doing it I will be really disappointed with myself.
But today, like so many other days here, was terribly dull. There are no groups on Sundays, only an outing, democratically decided upon, and, well, there are some serious flaws in democracy. Like, for instance, if the only people voting are insane. Are people in the nuthouse allowed to vote in real elections? Well, they shouldn't be. The patients decided on laser tag, a past time which I am completely against. Why would I want to participate in mock combat? That shit will just bring negativity.
So, I spent almost my entire day reading "The Adventures of Kavalier and Clay" by Michael Chabon. It is a really awesome book, about comics and New York and the Jewish experience and all sorts of other things. It's quite sprawling. I've read it before but it's been years and warranted being looked at again.
I also went to the YMCA. Working out is not at all hard if you have "America's Next Top Model" on the television in front of you. Other things that work: Project Runway, Ace of Cakes, Keeping Up With The Kardashians. Basically, reality TV is a complete necessity if you are at the gym. Without it, you will fail! Leave your ipods and your copies of the New York Times at home, they are useless here!
Speaking of the New York Times, I was rather perplexed by it's sudden disappearance from our communal coffee table. It turns out our dear friend, My Favorite Schizophrenic, has been squirreling it away, trying to connect his conspiracies. What a cool dude.
So, tomorrow my quest for independence continues! Same bat time, same bat station.

The picture is of swan boats on Lake Eola, which is by far the best of the lakes that I have seen so far.

This morning, around 7 am (that's 4 am California time), Jon called and was irritated with my post from yesterday. It was a long, and frequently painful, phone conversation. But I think I finally am understanding what he is trying to tell me. And, basically, it is that I need to spend more time thinking about how other people feel. And that is very true. Sometimes it is very hard for me to see past my own nose, but it's definitely something I am working on now. With all the people here who TRULY can not think of anything other than themselves, I really see a model of what I can occasionally be like, and it has made me want to stop being like that very much.
And, in regards to the previous post, I hope I didn't come across as flippant, blameful, or otherwise unbecoming. I love Jon, and we both (probably more me, but we both) have made a pretty big mess of things. I don't know what's going to come of it, but he has been helping me in his way, and we mean a lot to each other. I never want to talk ill of him, or present things in any way other than the way which they are.
Also today, I was reached out to by a couple of ladies that I haven't even talked to since high school. First, Korina Nevarez sent me a very kind message on facebook, a general commiseration and some sound advice. Then, Nicole Bagood sent me some books, books which I had been meaning to read! It was such a delightful surprise, I about cried. It feels so good that people are out there, even people who are kind of obscure in my life, who are thinking about me, and who care. It's sometimes hard to feel that way around here, being, as I am, surrounded by people who don't really know me or care about me at all. (I shouldn't say that. Some of the staff and patients are very caring. It's just not the same, though.) The other thing which made me happy about this spontaneous reaching out is that it tells me that my blog is not in vain, that people are listening and being somewhat touched by what I have to say. Sometimes I worry that the blog is too self-serving, like I'm just unloading crap onto you, my readers. But it is my genuine hope that people get something out of it, even if it's just a few giggles.
We went to the movies and we finally saw "127 Hours" and it was so good. I love me some James Franco. He is one of the few celebrities who I actually just wish I was his girlfriend. It's not "I want to have sex with him" or "I just think he is very talented" or "I wish I was him" but just straight forward, "I want to hug this guy" kind of feelings. And did you know he is hosting the Oscars? With Anne Hathaway? Well, it's true. How will I even watch the Oscars here, though? Maybe, hopefully, I pray to fucking God, I will be out by then.
On the My Favorite Schizophrenic tip, he is going to compete in the 2012 Olympics! Apparently, he can run 50 mph. I am so impressed! My admiration of him grows and grows. By the way, I am being serious. I take everything he says at face value, because it brightens my day.
Finally, yes, up in the right hand corner, that is a picture of a man in an Obama hat taking his pet rabbit for a walk.

Sick Day

I woke up today sick. I get sick a lot, so it wasn't surprising. I still managed to go to all the groups, but I didn't go on the outing, which, thank god. Because they went to the driving range (that means golf, people). I can think of few things I would less like to do. Except possibly bowling for the zillionth god damn time.
I had a phone conversation with Jon that made me cry. I meant to just see what was up, but I can't help trying to figure out where our relationship is going, if I should even hold on to a shred of hope, etc. He seems to think that he is answering these questions but I never seem to get what he is saying. Then he starts yelling and I start crying. The fact of the matter is, I love Jon like crazy, even through all the hurt I have been through, not to mention the hurt I have caused him. I can't imagine my life without him. I didn't think I would ever HAVE a life without him. It's so hard to believe or comprehend that it's actually over. We've broken up for long periods of time before. I can't just let this go. Jon was everything I ever worked for in my life. All I ever wanted was just a boy to love me. I don't even feel capable of finding that again. What am I supposed to do, DATE? I've never even really been on a date! Plus, I can't imagine another boy ever liking me. I don't say that to try to get compliments, I'm just stating a fact. I'm fat and pimply, tend to be somewhat annoying, and super high-maintenance. No guy who is awesome enough for me to consider getting into a relationship with deserves that.
I'm sorry for all this, I am just incredibly sad right now. I wish I was hugging someone. It's so weird, I never touch anyone here. No human contact what so ever. Doesn't that make things shrivel up and die?
The photo in the right-hand corner shows the cool Spanish Moss that grows on trees around here. It looks like an old plantation in a movie or something, but then it's juxtaposed with big ugly buildings, it's like the trees belong in a different place.
Finally, let's take a break with My Favorite Schizophrenic:
This guy I hate was ONCE AGAIN talking about guns. He said "I'm strapped, yo!" and then My Favorite Schizophrenic totally busted his ass! He was like "Yeah, you're strapped like Beyonce Knowles" and no one understood what he meant, but he explained that Beyonce (as well as the other members of Destiny's Child) wears a strap-on! He was calling the guy dick-less! And he was also saying hilarious things about Beyonce! It was magical.

The last couple of days

So, yesterday I finally got to enroll in some TLLC (that's teaching, living, and learning center) programs. I know the name is embarrassing, but this is a step up and what I ACTUALLY need to be doing in order to get my goals accomplished. I'm going to be there on Wednesday afternoons, starting next week. I am psyched because every step forward is another step towards the door! (oh, and being a grown up and whatever).
I also went to the art supply store with my therapist, and she bought me this really rad book called "642 Things To Draw" which is basically a blank book with the pages separated into squares, each with a thing to draw written on it, and you just draw it right into the book. So far I have drawn: a rolling pin, a hammock, an anchor, Van Gogh's ear, a sandwich, an ottoman, mushrooms, bubbles, a pickle, tube socks, a peg leg, a balloon, head in the clouds, a crystal ball, a mouth, a turkey leg, a pencil, a picket fence, a cassette tape, a corn dog with mustard, mittens, a pocket, a fairy, a bandage, a football, a lightbulb, a horseshoe, a hamburger, cat whiskers, a chalkboard, feelings, a sound wave, toes, an eyeball, a bird's nest, toast, a Q-tip, the moon, cotton candy, a pillow, a lollipop, a thumbtack, a cupcake, an orb, my pinky finger, an amoeba, an egg, a starfish, a can of beans, a baby monster, a bow, a bed, polka dots, woodgrain, zig zags, a sweater, and myself. Don't worry, I will not be updating you on all 642 things.
We also went bowling yesterday, and then AGAIN today! That's 4 bowling trips in a little over 2 weeks. I am still super bad at it. I don't really have any desire to get better, but I feel like I have to go on all the outings to prove that I am doing well. It's quite tedious some of the time.
The other thing that happened today is a new guy came to the program and I am jealous. Because he is a really cute skater dude so immediately everyone is flocking to him and I feel like a geek so I can't do it, plus he's always outside smoking. I am very intimidated by hot dudes! I can tell you this, NO ONE was acting like they are with him when I was the one who just got here. Ugh, I feel so ugly and invisible, even though I am CLEARLY way cooler than these people. They just don't know it! Sometimes my "stay away because I am too cool for you" vibes get misread as "i am very timid" vibes. You guys know I 'aint timid. So, new guy. Too cute to feel comfortable around, also jacking the few people I AM reasonably comfortable around. I hate you, new guy!
And I FINALLY got the cable to connect my camera to my computer, so expect a photo in the right corner from now on. I'm going to try to take one every day. They aren't going to be my regular stuff because there are no groovy people doing silly things around here, only lame people sitting around and talking about their feelings.

Ok this is the last of them

Go and look up what they are and tell me about 'em!

More Garden

Here are some more. A pretty garden is one of the few pleasures here.

Look at my Garden

Can you identify any of these plants? More in the next post!