<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538</id><updated>2024-09-21T16:00:35.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stranger in a Strange Land</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>24</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-2476101683665894019</id><published>2011-08-17T06:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-18T07:01:00.783-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Diary</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;Dear Diary,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;Just got back from CA last night. Went to go visit for a few days. Hung out with some friends from my kid-hood. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;Was picked up by&amp;nbsp; lovely friend from the airport and stayed at said friend&#39;s house overnight. Now bak at home. Went and picked up the dog this morning. Made the bed. Watched an episode of In Plain Sight. Gave the dog a bath. And now am sitting and procrastinating on bringing up school stuff and getting my homework done. Unfortunately, that alo leaves me with far too much time alone with my head. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;Blah...better get to it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS;&quot;&gt;Dear Diary,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS;&quot;&gt;Ok, so been back for a few days now. Getting re settled into regular life. Well, as regular as it can be sans a paying job.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS;&quot;&gt;Am close to having completed my Math class. I think I will even be getting an A in it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS;&quot;&gt;Still have no idea what happening with my personal life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Dear Diary,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;I know. I am terrible about being consistent with writing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;That special person told me not to long ago that part of his healing would be to write everything down. Not to ever show anyone including himself also. But just to release it. And I totally understood. I do that all the time. Or at least, I intend to. Then I get worried that someone is going to read it. And I sure as hell don&#39;t want to re-read it. No thanks. I am even uncomfortable with the IDEA of reading it much less anyone else. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;I checked out a really cute website the other day. It was all about Scorpios. About how secretive we are and it hit so so many points right on the old noggin&#39;. The only thing this site had that I didn&#39;t agree with is that we don&#39;t want people to know these things about us as they would be more easily able to &quot;handle&quot; us. I don&#39;t care! Handle me! I am comforted when I meet someone who understands Scorpios.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;Things are still in a very odd place with HIM. I need to come up with a good code name..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;I am not sure where he and I are. I spend time with him especially on the weekends when he has his son. Whom I get a kick out of. Kids usually freak me out. Focus. I even sleep with him. We serious cuddle till we fall asleep. He calls me nick names that seem as though he would desire me. But they could just be names. He calls me babe and hon and baby. But he never even tries to kiss me. He will walk by and stop for a moment and rub my shoulders. But that is as much action as there is. So I am left to wonder (because God forbid I try to actually COMMUNICATE)&amp;nbsp; if it is me, if it is him, if it will change, if he still just needs to heal up some. I don&#39;t have any idea. I am completely baffled on this. Now.. he DID tell me at the beginning how he couldn&#39;t do a &quot;relationship&quot; right now. Not with the state he was in. But how he hopes that when he is ready, I will still want him. I wonder if he still feels that way. I know that my feelings have changed in a lot of ways with him. Before, I was certain I would be happy with him. Now, I don&#39;t know. Maybe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;Tuesday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;Dear Diary ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;Not bad, it&#39;s only been since Friday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;Yesterday was awesom. Truly truly nice. I was with Pa (HIM) yesterday. We went for a drive up into the mountains. Stopped a few times to take pictures. It was such a beautiful drive. A beautiful DAY! We drove with the top down the whole time. Even when it started sprinkling on us and that made me love him all the more. We stopped in Leadville and had lunch in the coolest little Irish bar. Held hands on the drive. Professed love back and forth. Not mad-passionate-in-the-moment profession. Real true and forever ones. He is my friend and his happiness is truly of concern to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;More later...gotta jet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;Thursday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;Dear Diary,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;Wow... lots going on. Pa lost his job.Found out that his wedding date is coming up. I am having SUCH a hard time coping. I am so afraid that they are going to get back together and I will lose him all over again. I am so scared. But having to keep strong for him. He needs my support even more than ever right now. And I am over here today with him to keep him company and so on ince I know he will be having a very difficlut day. And there are moments when it is killing me. He is talking to her. She is coming over later to drop off some movies. That makes me so uncomfortable. She scares me so much. She has no idea how much of my life she controls without ever even having met me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;His friend is over now. His bf. Whom I love. We used to all sit in the basement back in the day. He used to pour me drinks and tell me that I HAD to drink it because it would be rude not to. lol... He used to DRAG me out of my shell. Used to poke at me and poke at me and tell me &quot;where is the girl I know? the one who always has something to say&quot;. I missed him a lot after the break. It is cool to see him now. I love to watch the two of them together. They are SUCH soul brothers and it is a neat thing to see. I love sitting here quiet as a mouse and just listening. I am glad I can multi task! Typing and listening. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;People always say a lot around me. I wonder if there is something about me that makes people so comfortable. What is it about me that makes them feel like they have known me long enough to talk about things either to me or in front of me. God, I would have made SUCH a good spy. That was my dream when I was in high school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;Just had a few minutes to chat with J. I like him very much. He is such good people. He is definitely going thru his won hard times. It is hard to see. He is just such a good man. They both are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;We will be spending at least tomorrow and Saturday with Pa. We are all going horse back riding.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;I worry about this man. I worry about losing him all over. I worry that he will go back to her. And I plan to be gone by the time she gets here so I worry about what happens after I am gone. I worry that they are going to end up making love and back together. And I would lose him again and this time would be even harder than before. What would I do? If I had to put up with HER to be around him... I would do it. I would hate it and be a nervous wreck and drink far too much but I would do it..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;What the hell is it about him? Why do I need him? It scares me so badly. But can I stay away? Nope...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;&quot;&gt;Friday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;&quot;&gt;Dear Diary,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia;&quot;&gt;I stayed over last night. Held him pretty much all night. It wa very sweet and very comforting. Sometimes I could tell he was having bad dreams and he&#39;d twitch so I&#39;d encircle him a little tighter in my arms and he would quiet down. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia;&quot;&gt;I am afraid. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia;&quot;&gt;Wed 9/14&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia;&quot;&gt;Been a minute again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia;&quot;&gt;God I love him. I love hanging around him. He is so...yeah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia;&quot;&gt;He is still hung up on his ex. I expect it will be that way for a while.&amp;nbsp; But I get to hang out with him. I get to learn more about this fascinating creature. :)&amp;nbsp; I really enjoy that.&amp;nbsp; I have my friend back.&amp;nbsp; &amp;gt;~&amp;lt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia;&quot;&gt;Sunday 9/18&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia;&quot;&gt;And they are back together. He told me himself. They are giving it another try. And I have to meet her. She insists that she be a part of our friendship. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia;&quot;&gt;So I am going on a date today. I can&#39;t wait for him anymore. I can&#39;t be in love with him anymore. I LOVE him, of course. But I can&#39;t be IN love with him. I won&#39;t.&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/2476101683665894019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2011/08/dear-diary.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/2476101683665894019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/2476101683665894019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2011/08/dear-diary.html' title='Dear Diary'/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-5986133813874227423</id><published>2011-08-04T13:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-04T13:14:43.076-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I am a nervous wreck. Struggling very hard to just roll with it but there are days when it is far harder than others. Today is one of those days. Between knowing that I have to start job hunting again and I have to catch up in my Math class and then there is him. The Guy. The one. &lt;br /&gt;
I am in a constant &quot;state&quot;. I am so scared. What if he does it again? What if he is just playing with my head so he can help himself get better and heal and then move on? What if he hurts me more than I can handle this time? And because of that, I am going to be afraid to trust in him. I trust HIM but I don&#39;t know that I trust him with ME. I am so afraid to be hurt by him again. Honestly, I don&#39;t trust anyone anymore. I don&#39;t know if it stemmed from him or if that merely exacerbated it. &lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m sad and I am nervous and I am so fucking terrified...</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/5986133813874227423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-am-nervous-wreck.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/5986133813874227423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/5986133813874227423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-am-nervous-wreck.html' title=''/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-5882943343980319416</id><published>2011-07-27T22:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T22:26:53.117-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Growing Up</title><content type='html'>I broke up with my driver today. It had been coming for a while. It was..nice. He understood exactly what I said and we are both pretty committed to maintaining our relationship as friends. Thank God. He is another one of the best people I have ever met. He has such a huge heart and he loves so well. I am completely confident and safe in my knowledge of his love for me. He just wasn&#39;t &lt;strong&gt;in&lt;/strong&gt; love with me anymore. &lt;br /&gt;
I wonder if some of the people who come into my life really are there to teach me something and vice versa. I mean, with Chris, maybe the first time around neither of us was ready. Maybe we had some stuff to learn. All I know is that I am so happy to have him back in my life. I talk to him almost every day. When my car broke down, he stepped right up and offered me a hand. And when I opened the front door and saw him for the first time in 2 years, I felt whole.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/5882943343980319416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2011/07/growing-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/5882943343980319416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/5882943343980319416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2011/07/growing-up.html' title='Growing Up'/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-3190534382991942977</id><published>2011-07-04T20:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-04T20:37:58.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There are so many times when I feel like I might be the figment of someone else&#39;s imagination. Maybe it is the alien thing. I don&#39;t necessarily feel like I belong. I think I fake it well but what do I know?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I love a man. And his daughter. And his dogs. And I am terribly afraid that I will let him tromp all over me because of that love. Because I&#39;m afraid of not seeing K or Peach or Danish. &lt;br /&gt;
There are so many times when I wonder if there is anyone who really cares about ME. I care about so many people and their feelings and how they might perceive things. But it doesn&#39;t seem that there is anyone who thinks like that about me. Am I even normal for putting others so far ahead of myself? And if I am not, would I ever want to be?? As hard on my heart as this is, would I want to be the person who thinks about themself first and foremost? I like that part of me that wants to take care of everyone that I care about. But when it is not reciprocated over and over again, it makes me doubt myself.&lt;br /&gt;
And at the same time, I am loved in such weird ways. My welder still loves me. And my Brian. I have loved him since I was 16 years old. I am so happy to have him in my life again. And I know he is equally happy because he is the one who does the majority of the contacting. &lt;br /&gt;
But then my driver... I just don&#39;t understand him most of the time. And he thinks we are so completely different that it would never work in the long run. He even broke up with me for a spell. That was horrid. My heart felt like it was gone. It was different than with Chris. With Chris, I was in tears all the time. With my driver, it just felt like i didn&#39;t have a heart anymore. I am so thankful that he realized he does love me. I KNOW that he is terrified of having his heart broken again. He is so scared of being hurt. But how do you convince someone that you have no intention of hurting them? You can&#39;t..</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/3190534382991942977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2011/07/there-are-so-many-times-when-i-feel.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/3190534382991942977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/3190534382991942977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2011/07/there-are-so-many-times-when-i-feel.html' title=''/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-2092409894517241853</id><published>2010-09-25T20:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-25T20:44:09.492-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;color: black;&quot;&gt;Ok, so I have gotten over the initial RAGE. But fuck.. now I am being treated like&amp;nbsp; the asshole. HOW when I did nothing wrong. I was falsely accused as was proven. And so help me God, I have TRIED to be nice to that dumb little slag. And boss-man still has not said a WORD about any of this. Considering he was the bitch that wrote it up, you&#39;d think he would know that I sure haven&#39;t forgotten.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;color: black;&quot;&gt;I can&#39;t wait to move to CA. I will still work for the dick but will virtually NEVER have to see him.10 months... I can hang on that long..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;color: black;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;color: black;&quot;&gt;And &lt;i&gt;maybe&lt;/i&gt; I am not over it?&amp;nbsp; :)&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/2092409894517241853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/ok-so-i-have-gotten-over-initial-rage.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/2092409894517241853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/2092409894517241853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/ok-so-i-have-gotten-over-initial-rage.html' title=''/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-2498381639718977934</id><published>2010-09-12T11:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T11:53:49.857-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Betrayal</title><content type='html'>There was an incident at work on Friday. It is a long and ridiculous story but it came down to several things. My boss has no respect for me otherwise he would have come and asked what was going on, which in my opinion was nothing but apparently, I am such a huge and magnificent and important personality that even the &lt;b&gt;thought&lt;/b&gt; that I may be angry at someone is enough to cause them severe devastation and affects their ability to work and possibly even have a normal life. My bad. I did not realize this. I am actually at a loss as to how this oversensitive person even came to that conclusion. Could it have been her guilty conscious? Me thinks so... However, it ended up with said manager and myself having to sit in the Corporate Attorney&#39;s office with a conversation that started out how this was NOT a termination. My work is great. Of course it is. I knew that. It then digressed to this allegation against me for being &quot;mean and unprofessional&quot;. That I told this person not only how to do their job but how they had so negatively impacted mine.&lt;br /&gt;
I sit at my desk and do my work. No one can tell if I am angry because they don&#39;t sit by me. I am in a pretty isolated area which is great, because it is very quiet and undisrupted. My apparent rage and fury came across in an instant message. Verbatim, the conversation went like this:&lt;br /&gt;
&quot; I am really sorry that it didn&#39;t get done. I feel bad.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
my response &quot;That&#39;s alright. Do you think that maybe next time you could let me know earlier? I have to run accruals today.&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;
Wow.... I &lt;b&gt;am&lt;/b&gt; a bitch!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/2498381639718977934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/betrayal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/2498381639718977934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/2498381639718977934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/betrayal.html' title='Betrayal'/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-3571409098459932371</id><published>2010-09-09T21:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-09T21:56:39.983-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>fuck this. ick. I am so dissatisfied it is ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;I tell her that she needs to start figuring out something with her dog. If I got rid of him she would be so angry with me. She might even hate me for a while. Fuck THAT. But she doesn&#39;t help me at all. He pees in MY room and I have to shampoo the carpets over and over. And it grosses me out. And it is so unfair. And she gets so annoyed when I ask her to take them&amp;nbsp; out.. Really? jiminy crickets. I am the bad guy again. fuck...</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/3571409098459932371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/fuck-this.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/3571409098459932371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/3571409098459932371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/fuck-this.html' title=''/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-1642056635994489809</id><published>2010-09-07T20:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T20:52:18.754-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hello my bitches... You know I love you for reading about my crazy fucking mind.&amp;nbsp; &amp;lt;3</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/1642056635994489809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/hello-my-bitches.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/1642056635994489809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/1642056635994489809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/hello-my-bitches.html' title=''/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-279229872103395725</id><published>2010-09-07T20:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T20:18:58.099-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today was like therapy. I told my bf everything that had happened this weekend and was able to talk it out just like if I paid some ridiculous amount to a therapist. She got the full dose. And she makes me feel like maybe I am not as crazy as I think. Maybe it is how I am perceived. The whole she-bang makes perfect sense to me. Maybe I am just misunderstood.&amp;nbsp; Mebbe.....!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/279229872103395725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/today-was-like-therapy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/279229872103395725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/279229872103395725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/today-was-like-therapy.html' title=''/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-5334321818698676252</id><published>2010-09-06T23:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T23:14:38.010-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Could you love me if I was an alien?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am.....</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/5334321818698676252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/could-you-love-me-if-i-was-alien-i-am.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/5334321818698676252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/5334321818698676252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/could-you-love-me-if-i-was-alien-i-am.html' title=''/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-439194793943185214</id><published>2010-09-06T21:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T21:54:59.881-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I am an alien...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;I can deal with that..</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/439194793943185214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-am-alien.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/439194793943185214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/439194793943185214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-am-alien.html' title=''/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-8104598088359939303</id><published>2010-09-06T21:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T21:46:30.216-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>:)&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I think I might be alien... It is the only thing that makes sense to me. Why I feel so awkward here. So wrong.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/8104598088359939303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-think-i-might-be-alien.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/8104598088359939303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/8104598088359939303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-think-i-might-be-alien.html' title=''/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-318395115178679230</id><published>2010-09-06T20:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T20:40:03.987-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I am not a good person. Even though that is what I wish to be more than anything. A good person worthy of love and hope.&lt;br /&gt;
I have made such bad decisions that affect others. And I am so sorry for that but what fucking good does &quot;sorry&quot; do? Does that remove or obliterate 20 years of pain? And I didn&#39;t try to hurt anyone. But that seems to be what I do. I hurt people and I don&#39;t mean to. How do I fix that? How do I make 20 years of loss and pain go away?</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/318395115178679230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-am-not-good-person.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/318395115178679230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/318395115178679230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-am-not-good-person.html' title=''/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-5602190665247668838</id><published>2010-09-06T20:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T20:34:09.841-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>:)&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; even the ups get exhausting.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;It&#39;s HARD work to be &quot;happy&quot;!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/5602190665247668838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/even-ups-get-exhausting.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/5602190665247668838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/5602190665247668838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/even-ups-get-exhausting.html' title=''/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-2958721763894780595</id><published>2010-09-06T20:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T20:01:17.699-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it is amazing to me when I am able to fake it. By faking it I mean that I am able to pretend to be one of them. I have decided that I am an alien. It makes sense..</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/2958721763894780595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/it-is-amazing-to-me-when-i-am-able-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/2958721763894780595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/2958721763894780595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/it-is-amazing-to-me-when-i-am-able-to.html' title=''/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-9215215587417197596</id><published>2010-09-06T19:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T19:21:40.050-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;&quot;&gt;It always feels like I have so much &lt;/span&gt;to say up until it is time to type. I need Dragon..</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/9215215587417197596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/it-always-feels-like-i-have-so-much-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/9215215587417197596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/9215215587417197596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/it-always-feels-like-i-have-so-much-to.html' title=''/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-1162091864817228310</id><published>2010-09-06T19:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T19:07:08.635-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Nature is like Prozac... Being out in the open clean air, with water lapping at the shores. It sets me right.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/1162091864817228310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/nature-is-like-prozac.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/1162091864817228310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/1162091864817228310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/nature-is-like-prozac.html' title=''/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-8063603887193490189</id><published>2010-09-06T15:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T15:36:07.974-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was wrong. Here it comes again. And once again I have no control.&lt;br /&gt;
This is exhausting...</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/8063603887193490189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-was-wrong.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/8063603887193490189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/8063603887193490189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-was-wrong.html' title=''/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-5483635485897428953</id><published>2010-09-06T14:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T14:20:07.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My friend had her baby. She changed her profile picture on FB so it is the baby&#39;s picture. She is so beautiful. I want another one so much it hurts. Don&#39;t know if it will happen.&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe I will end up adopting one. although what I yearn for is to feel the baby moving inside of me. Delivery sucks but is well worth it.&lt;br /&gt;
And I am a good mom. I have two girls who are amazing. Smart, beautiful, GOOD people. Now it is time for a boy!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/5483635485897428953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/my-friend-had-her-baby.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/5483635485897428953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/5483635485897428953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/my-friend-had-her-baby.html' title=''/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-6925779570755561411</id><published>2010-09-06T13:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T13:17:29.801-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yesterday&#39;s misery is a memory now. Thinking about it, I can&#39;t understand how I get to that emotional boiling over point. Or rather, I suppose I do understand and that is because I internalize. And it makes sense that at some point, I can&#39;t anymore and it starts to overflow like the banks of a swollen river. It is just surprising sometimes what it takes to set that chain off. I feel relieved though. Now I can start the internalization all over again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;And it will happen again soon, I am sure. I have so much to think about constantly that it is inevitable. I just prefer that it not be too soon.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/6925779570755561411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/yesterdays-misery-is-memory-now.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/6925779570755561411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/6925779570755561411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/yesterdays-misery-is-memory-now.html' title=''/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-94095425643815129</id><published>2010-09-05T23:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T23:22:57.421-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;&quot;&gt;Tonight was a definite breakdown. Scares me. Does that mean that the meds aren&#39;t working? Does the dosage need to be upped? Something else added into the cocktail? I felt as though I had no control over myself. I felt so heartbreaking, overwhelmingly sad and nothing made sense again. My head was filled with self recrimination and doubt and guilt. It is hard to swim thru all of that. And other people don&#39;t necessarily understand. And there is such a stigma attached. I have always maintained that this is as much my fault as diabetes are to a diabetic. As he needs insulin injected into his body, I need mine. &lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/94095425643815129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/tonight-was-definite-breakdown.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/94095425643815129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/94095425643815129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/tonight-was-definite-breakdown.html' title=''/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-629593860586011416</id><published>2010-09-05T08:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T08:15:46.109-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So here goes.. I love the anonymity of the internet. You don&#39;t know me (except what you read) and I don&#39;t know you. My kind of socialization. :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Forgive me, I am not a great blogger by any means.&lt;br /&gt;
And my life is probably pretty boring.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me. I am still learning about me. What an interesting and frightening discovery. I have never really allowed myself to dwell on me and who I am and think about the choices I have made. I realize now that I only hurt myself with my inability to communicate. And I hurt others. I don&#39;t know how to make up for that. And so I berate myself. Constantly. And was I even capable of making smart choices back when I was young? Freud will never get me to blame my mother but at the same time, I got to do whatever I wanted. No was not an option and I never heard it. I didn&#39;t do chores, I didn&#39;t do laundry. I didn&#39;t even have to clean my own room. If I wanted something, I asked and received. I grew up with a pedigreed dog. I had two horses. I got a car. Anything I wanted was mine for the asking.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don&#39;t remember being afraid all the time when I was that age. I don&#39;t know when that even came into play. I think I was ill prepared for life and when REAL life hit, I didn&#39;t know what to do.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/629593860586011416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/so-here-goes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/629593860586011416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/629593860586011416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/so-here-goes.html' title=''/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-6345908682382556167</id><published>2010-09-04T21:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-04T21:20:19.069-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I am drowning. Every day it gets harder and harder to hold my head above the water. And what can I do? It isn&#39;t as if I can just give up and start over.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/6345908682382556167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-am-drowning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/6345908682382556167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/6345908682382556167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-am-drowning.html' title=''/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803944145270691538.post-1285626646792201505</id><published>2010-09-04T16:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-04T16:25:54.182-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My best friend tells to stop thinking so much. She&#39;s right. I think all the time. I will probably drive myself insane at some point just hearing myself. Maybe I already am..</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/feeds/1285626646792201505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/my-best-friend-tells-to-stop-thinking.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/1285626646792201505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6803944145270691538/posts/default/1285626646792201505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-darkside-has-cookies.blogspot.com/2010/09/my-best-friend-tells-to-stop-thinking.html' title=''/><author><name>SciFiAngel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00458131089115035077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6zidcosvSoA/UlK73FwUqAI/AAAAAAAADRc/VL5gFCNTqDs/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>