Day Five

First, let me explain the Chantix dosage.  Days 1-3 are only a half mg every morning.  Days 4-7 are a half mg in the morning, and another half mg in the evening.  After that, it's a full mg in the morning, and a full mg in the evening - I imagine that this is when things start to get pretty rough.
Days 1-4 for me were okay, a little bit of nausea (especially if I forgot to eat), headaches; but headaches are a regular thing for me, some odd dreams, and I definitely felt more on edge than usual.
Last night, my dreams were peculiar, only because the same constellation followed through each of them.  It was beautiful, very bright, but something about it was frightening, too.
Today, I had to go have a CT scan with contrast, so I'm not sure if it's because my schedule was thrown off (ie: had to fast, including NO COFFEE!), or because of the contrast stuff they pumped into my veins, or maybe it's a bit of everything, but right now my head is pounding, the nausea is rolling, and I can hear my heart beating in my head like village drums.
I feel like the distractions today (like my cat giving birth to six kittens, the CT scan, two of my kids being home by noon) should have been helpful, but all I want to do right now is curl up in the dark and sleep for forever.
Oh yeah, the cigarettes.  My quit date is this coming Friday, but I really have no desire to smoke right now.  It's become quite unsatisfying, and even tastes kind of gross.  So, there's that update.  More another day.  xo

Oh, two more things:  I actually feel hungry, regularly, now.  (Great.  I'm gonna be a blimp.)

Also, I'm so, so tired.  All the time. 

Smoking is Bad

Smoking is so, SO bad.  I purchased my first cigarette in Senegal, when I was just 12 years old.  I haven't been home in awhile, so I'm not sure if this is still the case, but back then, the boutiques sold cigarettes one by one, or really, however you wanted to buy them.  I'm starting to ramble.
I've been able to quit off and on for years, only to start again, and it seems like every time I started again, I was smoking more than before.  I did the weaning thing, the cold-turkey thing (ohhh, that one is painful), the gum thing, and nothing has worked, permanently.
Four years ago, my little brother used Chantix to quit smoking - he's never gone back.  Chantix.  It's a really scary drug.  The side effects are extreme.  Insurance won't cover it.  (That's a whole separate rant.  Why in the WORLD would insurance rather cover the health consequences of smoking long-term, instead of covering a drug that will help many people quit for good???)
After doing as much research as I could about Chantix, I decided that all of the negatives of it are worth it if it helps me quit.  And not go back.
I went to my doctor yesterday for quite a few things (I hadn't had insurance for almost a year, so.), and while I was there, I asked him to prescribe Chantix.  He agreed that it's a good idea, and scribbled out the script. I don't have a "real" job right now, and have VERY little money coming in from watching a couple of kids a few days a week.
Get this.  Chantix is a three month thing.  For each MONTH, it costs over $200.  I quickly did some math in my head, and calculated that one month of Chantix is equal to me watching one child for three weeks.  How am I going to afford to put gas in my van?  Or get the oil change that's past due?  Or pay for my (very cheap!) health insurance?  Or any of the many other things that always seem to come up, especially when you're broke?
Even with all of that, I didn't have to stand there for long, deciding if it was worth it.  It is. It will be.  I got a bit of a discount through the Chantix website, and dropped $150 yesterday for the first month.  
So this is how Chantix works - you choose a quit date, and begin taking the medication a week before that date. This allows the medication to build up in your system.  Since I'm ready to get this show on the road, I took my first dose today, with my quit date being May 30th.
I'm really, really anxious about the whole thing.  I enjoy smoking.  But I also know how badly it affects my health, and how it could affect my future health, too.  I also know that I don't want to be a slave to anything, and I am most certainly a slave to smoking.  It's like I have no choice in the matter.  When my body decides it's time, I have to smoke.  That's not okay with me.
I'm anxious about how Chantix will affect me.  You're not supposed to take it if you have a history of mental illness or depression, and, well.... yeah.  I do.  It causes extremely vivid nightmares, which also concerns me, since my dreams have always been vivid and memorable, and mostly scary.
I'm anxious, I'm anxious, but I know myself, and I've done my research, and I feel like this is basically my last hope for quitting.   Considering how much it's costing me, it had BETTER WORK.  *scaryface*
I plan on keeping a weekly journalish thing, documenting the side effects, moods, and cravings.  And probably a lot of other stuff, since obviously I talk too much.
Good luck, me!  We can do this.

I want to live here.

The over and over and over of it.

Another one.
I can't get past the over and over and over of it.
So many...so many broken fucked up lost 'kids' coming out of that fucking oppressive mission, all for the sake of a few lost souls that may or may not be saved, after so many years and so much damage and so many kids being thrown away, and then the lost kids are losing their own kids, and there's no end.  And the missionaries perch up there, on their self-made, church-made pedestals and feel proud of their accomplishments and their fucking sacrifices, and ashamed of the way their kids have turned out.  And their kids carry guilt for that shame.
 And the kids are this quiet group who only have each other because only we can understand how it is, while our parents are being applauded by the churches, and their kids are being crushed.
 And the kids begin to self-destruct because what else is there, with that guilt and shame so crushing, and in our self-destruction we destroy each other, and our parents stand there on their towers waving and smiling and shining for the churches, acting humble but holding their pride so close to themselves that it's blinding to them and they can't see us, really see us, even if they tried.
And once in awhile they blink and see us for a second and try half-heartedly to reach out and call us their own, but we aren't. We haven't been for so so long.
 And no matter how much I desire to NOT be defined as an MK, that is what I am. It's where I came from. It's what I relate to. Not a victim, no. That part is gone. But being thrown away.... and knowing that so many, SO MANY mk's have been thrown away.... that part is so hard. And it's always there. And seeing the affects of it in other people (and myself) over and over and over again.... every time, it brings it all back, and I am angry. I'm so fucking angry.
I don't cry when I'm sad, most of the time. I cry when I'm pissed. And I'm sitting here just bawling, feeling this fireball inside of me, wanting to explode, wanting to scream at all of the people like my parents who are so blinded and so PROUD and tell them exactly what they've done to their own children.
 And knowing that I could scream it at them and show it to them until I'm dead, and they STILL WON'T GET IT. Because, you know. There are all those lost souls, and god's work is so important. And they are so important, making their sacrifices and going out into the world to preach a gospel that they don't even fucking understand. 

Braver than Loneliness

“We must become so alone, so utterly alone, that we withdraw into our innermost self. It is a way of bitter suffering. But then our solitude is overcome, we are no longer alone, for we find that our innermost self is the spirit, that it is God, the indivisible. And suddenly we find ourselves in the midst of the world, yet undisturbed by its multiplicity, for our innermost soul we know ourselves to be one with all being.”    
~Hermann Hesse

“God, but life is loneliness, despite all the opiates, despite the shrill tinsel gaiety of "parties" with no purpose, despite the false grinning faces we all wear. And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter - they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long. Yes, there is joy, fulfillment and companionship - but the loneliness of the soul in its appalling self-consciousness is horrible and overpowering.”
~Sylvia Plath

Reprieve

The glow of skin in the light of the setting sun... like warm, smooth gold.  The sun, it's lower half resembling an egg yolk as it hits the water and melts into it... sand-covered feet... clothes soaking wet from the surprising splashes of waves... breeze lifts arm hairs... smiling... letters etched into the soft, squeaking white... footprints... spiraling... balancing... spinning... breathing... feeling... The water is pink, now.  It's pink and gold and dark blue... gentle.  

I don't want to leave this place... I want to build a little house from driftwood and decorate it with seaweed and shells, and it will be my castle, and I will be the queen... my subjects will be the sky, the sun, the water, the sand... but I will bow to them. 

I am Me.

Here I am.  This is Me Now. 
I am not sorry.  I am not going to smooth over your feelings, just to make you happy.   I am not going to lie, just to make you stop talking.  I am not going to be your savior. 
I am not going to do things that make me uncomfortable, and I am not going to do things that weigh me down.  I am not going to carry your world on my shoulders.  I have my own world to carry, and it's heavy.
I am not going to tell you what you want to hear.  I am going to tell you what is real and true.  You probably won't like it.  It's raw.  It's so completely honest.   It's not always going to be pretty. 
I will give my Love to those that I love.  I will give all of it.  Pour it onto them, bathe them in it, fill them with it, encapsulate them with it.  Protect them with it.
I will not, however, waste my Love on people who don't appreciate it. 
This is me.  I am me. 
Take me, or leave me.  I am strong enough now, to be happy either way.