One Pathetic Loser

I have been feeling like a pathetic loser.  First off - TOTALLY FORGOT I WAS DOING A GIVE AWAY!  How lame am I?  Will be heading there tonight for Sam to draw the winner out and posting later this evening or first thing in the morning.

Between you and me...it's been a hella 6 months.  Like bad.  Like reeeeaaaallly bad.  Like I am now out of adrenaline mode and crashing.  Hard.

I said to a friend today, I am either crying, yelling or under the covers in my bed.  That is SO NOT me.  I don't like it.  In fact, I hate it.

Oh sure, I can paint a smile on like the rest of the good folk do.  I have acting skillz like you wouldn't believe.  In fact, I should start writing my Oscar speech - since I am totally in the running.

Truth be told.  M-Cat ain't so good.  M-Cat's a little bat shiz crazy.  My doc said we like to call that BSC disease. Not crazy as in mentally ill, sheesh, no need to take it that far, just that everything over the past 6 months has added up, I have not dealt with my real feelings and now it's coming out in spades.  Or is that in buckets?  Either way, for fear of judgement or my own fear of failure or fear of facing reality, I have stuffed the sad feelings, blocked my little heart and moved forward out of sheer necessity.


For the record, Chloee has no idea.  I NEVER let her see me cry.  NEVER let her see me mad.  NEVER let her see me hide in my bed.  She doesn't need that crap, and I refuse to give it to her.  She had enough already in her time.  Her life is sunshine, rainbows and unicorns pooping butterfly's.

Splenda on the other hand?   If St Peter hasn't made him a saint by now, then something is seriously wrong with the afterlife.  Dude is a serious ROCK!

So the diagnosis is this (for now) - I need to let myself grieve for Jill.  I can hardly embrace a new daughter-in-love and her family if I can't resolve the old.  And for the stalkers who still bumble their way over here to report back on what I say - let the record state:
I NEVER HIRED AN ATTORNEY TO TAKE CHLOEE AWAY FROM JILL.  I NEVER TOLD HER THAT I DID.  Splenda and I did nothing but offer help time and time again for her.  Period.

So please stop saying that I am the reason she killed herself.  Stop saying "that Melissa has blood on her hands" because you know what?  I don't.  I am not the reason Jill killed herself.  I have read her suicide note, I have emails from right before she died.  We were on good terms.  And despite what others might think, I loved her.  I loved the old Jill.  The fun, teasing, playful, pixie girl Jill.  So, stop projecting your own guilt on me. 

And that's all I am gonna say about that on my public blog.   Go report back it to your queen and twist it however you want, but that is the truth and the end on my public blog. 

Private blogs are awesome.

So back to the emotionally drained M-Cat.  I will find my fun self again.  My "let's have a party" self.  The girl that can't wait to jump out of bed and go hit the pavement.  The woman who wants to do nothing but play and eat.  She'll be back.  And real soon friends - real soon.

Peace, out
M-Cat