Crazy Brew

“Hello Cruel World” by E

Crazy Brew — Wed, 06 Jul 2011 23:18:33 +0000

Sometimes I feel like I can’t go on but then I do anyway.

Hello Cruel World

Hello cruel world
so this is you a broken heart
a withered view
i’m looking out to face
another day

The angry mob
the happy mass
this birthday cake
may be the last
i’m looking out to find
another way

norman rockwell colors fade
all my favorite things have changed
hello cruel world

i thought i heard
an opera star
who had no home
under the stars
she sang and sang
and sang the night away

and mother nature changed her name
she doesn’t want to play the game
i don’t believe she’ll ever be the same
so big brother never came
howdy-doodie gets the blame
but what the hell
hello cruel world

fat and beautiful and strange
monkeys dancing in a cage
but what the hell
hello cruel world

venus de milo grew an arm
and old mc donald bought the farm
say goodbye
hello cruel world

norman rockwell colors fade
all my favorite things have changed
but what the hell
hello cruel world

fat and beautiful and strange
monkeys dancing in a cage
but what the hell
hello cruel world
say goodbye
but what the hell
hello cruel world
hello hello
hello cruel world

Blocked by the Walls of Depression

Crazy Brew — Thu, 30 Jun 2011 21:40:04 +0000

What is this wall that I can’t jump? The depression that I feel is like weights shackled to my legs. I pull and pull, trying to move forward, but to no avail. The insidious thing about depression is that it creates a lack of desire in the mind to do the very things that will heal me. Depression muffles the will. Depression is mentally exhausting; it makes a person feel as if they can’t take one more step or do one more thing. It is no surprise that people struggling with depression want to do nothing more than sleep.

Under Pressure: Queen & Bowie

Crazy Brew — Sun, 26 Jun 2011 06:35:22 +0000

Mm ba ba de
Um bum ba de
Um bu bu bum da de
Pressure pushing down on me
Pressing down on you no man ask for
Under pressure – that burns a building down
Splits a family in two
Puts people on streets
Um ba ba be
Um ba ba be
De day da
Ee day da – that’s o.k.
It’s the terror of knowing
What the world is about
Watching some good friends
Screaming ‘Let me out’
Pray tomorrow – gets me higher
Pressure on people – people on streets
Day day de mm hm
Da da da ba ba
O.k.
Chippin’ around – kick my brains around the floor
These are the days it never rains but it pours
Ee do ba be
Ee da ba ba ba
Um bo bo
Be lap
People on streets – ee da de da de
People on streets – ee da de da de da de da
It’s the terror of knowing
What this world is about
Watching some good friends
Screaming ‘Let me out’
Pray tomorrow – gets me higher high high
Pressure on people – people on streets
Turned away from it all like a blind man
Sat on a fence but it don’t work
Keep coming up with love
but it’s so slashed and torn
Why – why – why ?
Love love love love love
Insanity laughs under pressure we’re cracking
Can’t we give ourselves one more chance
Why can’t we give love that one more chance
Why can’t we give love give love give love give love
give love give love give love give love give love
‘Cause love’s such an old fashioned word
And love dares you to care for
The people on the edge of the night
And loves dares you to change our way of
Caring about ourselves
This is our last dance
This is our last dance
This is ourselves
Under pressure
Under pressure
Pressure

• Pick, Pick, Pick

Crazy Brew — Mon, 13 Jun 2011 11:54:12 +0000

I had desperately hoped that by now my life would have become more manageable. Regrettably, it seems that the pathways through my house get narrower and narrower. I have nausea from thinking about it even as I write this. Anxiety slaps me in the face each morning like a filthy woolen blanket flapping in the wind. The anxiety literally hurts. I need to sleep; I’m so weary. I almost wish I could cry but then I ask myself, “What’s the use of it?” Maybe relief….

I need to ease the pain and the anxiety. I need an outlet for this self-contempt. I pick at the skin on my face. When there’s nothing more to squeeze, I move on to cleaning my ears. Cotton swab, ear pick, cotton swab again. It must be done in order. If the process of removing earwax is insufficient to reduce my anxiety, I move on to scaling my teeth. Floss, scale, pick, brush and then rinse with fluoride. Pick at my toenails, scrape at my foot callouses. On and on. Trying to remove imperfections. Pick, pick, pick. ~ Leave me anxiety!!!!! ~ Pick, pick, pick. ♦

• I’m T i r e d of Pain

Crazy Brew — Tue, 11 Jan 2011 09:30:40 +0000

Tonight I hurt physically. My shoulders are burning. I’m full of anxiety. I need to sleep. This is so frustrating that I want to scream.

ANGRY ANGRY ANGRY

Bills are piling up. The house is filthy. I’m disgusted.

ANGRY ANGRY ANGRY

I felt so bad I went to a thrift store today- the last thing I should even remotely think of doing. I gained little satisfaction from my shopping. I spent too much for things I didn’t need.

ANGRY ANGRY ANGRY

I t N e v e r E n d s

It N e v e r Frickin’ Ends

a n g r y

• Perfect Misery

Crazy Brew — Mon, 06 Sep 2010 20:56:40 +0000

I’m extremely wound up with anxiety today. I’d planned to spend time with the in-law side of my family this afternoon but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I’m sad about this. I slept poorly last night. I’m worrying about money. Nearly 75% of my personal income is spent on medically related necessities; the economic challenges created by this can feel overwhelming. The combination of financial concerns along with my chaotic living environment is agonizing at times.

Right now, I’m watching “Hoarding: Buried Alive” on A&E Television. Even though the show agitates me, I feel as if watching it throws my own problem in my face and forces me to confront my own issues. Although I don’t hoard to the extent that some of the people featured on the show do, I can still totally relate to their feelings, especially their frustration and feelings of being overwhelmed. One thing for sure is that people who want to help solve these hoarding problem aren’t always sensitive to the emotional aspect of hoarding. The “just do it” mentality doesn’t work with hoarders. It would be fabulous if we could just toss out an item if isn’t useful but the point our well-meaning helpers often don’t acknowledge is that we don’t do this easily and sometimes can’t do it emotionally. If tossing out things that aren’t useful was easy to do, then we wouldn’t be in the situation we are in.

Some of the words that describe how hoarders feel are these: frustrated, angry, ashamed, embarrassed, humiliated, confused, overwhelmed, exhausted, baffled, out-of-control, worthless, afraid, paranoid, miserable, hopeless, lonely, guilty, numb, enraged, lost, wounded, helpless, unhappy, sad, chaotic, depressed, grief-filled, loss-filled.

Geralin Thomas, a professional organizer and the founder of Metropolitan Organizing located in Cary, North Carolina, says hoarders are sometimes perfectionists and that trait contributes to the problem: “A lot of hoarders are perfectionists and have rigid beliefs about saving and discarding possessions. Decision making is often excruciating and time-consuming. It’s often less stressful to retain items and defer decisions until a later time thus perpetuating the hoarding problem.”

Another interesting observation is made by Randy Frost, Phd, a psychology professor at Smith College: “Many people who hoard feel that they must read everything, or nearly everything, in the paper and remember it in detail. If they feel they can’t do this, then saving the paper has to do, ever though they never go back to reread it. Most often what happens is that this task becomes so overwhelming that they don’t even bother to read the paper, they just keep it so they can read it later.”

I’m currently evaluating how perfectionism might play into my own struggles with the chaos in my home. ♦

Food for Thought

“The maxim “nothing avails but perfection” may be spelled P A R A L Y S I S” ~Winston Churchill

“Perfectionism is self abuse of the highest order” ~ Anne Wilson Schaef

• Gotta Sort This Out !!!

Crazy Brew — Sat, 17 Jul 2010 07:19:20 +0000

I’m trying so hard to regain my health. I get so lonely and isolated. My counselor told me that I should give Facebook a try. Apparently Facebook is a good way to interact socially and reduce isolation, even for those don’t who want to leave the house. My counselor said I should also blog a little every day as method to sort out my thoughts. I think I’ll have to blog a whole lot to untangle this mess. ♦

Sometimes my life seems so tangled up that my stomach feels like this in it. (Hairball From Female Trichotillomaniac's Stomach Weighing 9.92 lbs)

• Hi, my name is Ms. Filthpile and I am a disgusting hoarder . . . . . . . . .

Crazy Brew — Tue, 06 Apr 2010 07:28:58 +0000

Three hours of watching “Hoarders: Buried Alive” on the television and now here I am stuffing my mouth full of chips. Hmmmm… 2:30 AM isn’t really the best time of day to be eating junk food with a side of highly caffeinated diet soda. I’m really angry and really anxious. I am a hoarder. I can deny it no longer. I can no longer laugh it off and call myself a clutterer. I’m a full-fledged hoarder. You want proof? No need for pictures, this fact will verify it for sure: there are places in my house where the cat has gone pee that I can’t get at to clean because there’s too much junk in the way. How totally gross is that?!!! I gag just thinking about it. Oh, and another tell-tale sign of my hoarding is that I haven’t slept in my bed for nine months because it covered with stuff that I can’t move because I have nowhere to put it; as I write this, I can hardly believe nine months have passed. I’m so, so disgusted with myself.

I’ve undergone mental health counseling for about six weeks now, although, it’s not for the hoarding issue. I should clarify: I started seeing the psychiatrist so that I could find ways to cope with the depression and anxiety that I’m experiencing due to a long bout of illness and the associated chronic pain. It would seem these sessions should offer the perfect opportunity to deal with the hoarding issues but, as it stands, I have yet to mention the problem to my doctor – I’m just too embarrassed to bring up the topic. Crazy, huh? Yeah, well, crazy is the ride that these hoarding behaviors take a person on. It’s a crazy, miserable ride down Humiliation Avenue. ♦

• Night Angrys

Crazy Brew — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 02:17:04 +0000

The anger is always worse at night. Angry minds don’t fall asleep easily. The rage spins and spins. Then the guilt. Guilt for feeling angry; angry for feeling guilty; repeat and stir ad nauseum. Banshees are screaming from the dark corners of my mind “I hate you! You screwed it up! You’re a screw up. Get with it. Your life sucks because YOU ARE LAZY!!!!!!!!!!!!” Feácem all! RAGE RAGE RAGE… please leave me… If I could just feel better, I could beat this. My scalp itches. Why haven’t I washed my hair for two weeks? Self-hate? Last night I had a dream about life before illness and the loss of body parts. I’d forgotten how nice I used to look when I dressed up. Now I’m fat. I never thought I’d be this fat. Illness, depression, and medication makes this girl FAT. Although, it doesn’t help matters that I’ve seemingly lost all sense of self-control. I get so agitated thinking about the chaos in my life. If God didn’t exist, this whole experience would be an unbearable exercise. I cling to the idea that all experiences in life have a formative purpose. Hope springs eternal in the human breast beast. ♦

• Morning sans Jose Cuervo; what’s the diff?

Crazy Brew — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 07:56:06 +0000

This morning I had to look twice at the face staring back at me from the mirror. Snakes. I felt like I’d just spent a long weekend as Jose Cuervo’s bitch. I looked like it too. I’m sick of being sick. It was a long day spent on the couch. Fruitless endeavors. ♦