Sometimes I Imagine What It Would Feel Like To Bathe In Blood

Just so we have at least some of the facts straight, I did take this photograph, of my bathtub. Of red hair dye.

I Don't Know What To Do.

I don't understand

why I can't just be satisfied with what I have
why I can't be happy for the people I love
why I can't be comfortable in my own skin
why I can't let go
why I always feel unsafe
why I always feel like I'm waiting for something
why I always have my eyes open
why I always feel like I'm fighting
why I feel like I've plateaued
why I feel miserable, lost, confused, unhappy, and fearful that whatever I need to fix all of these things, will never come.

MA! I'M ON THE RADIO!

This is something EXTREMELY important to me, and one of the first steps I am taking to raise more awareness about the subject of mental illness. There is far too much ignorance around this.

Skip to about 20 minutes in to hear me talk to John Gormley about the stigma around mental illness.
http://tinyurl.com/d2m6bvp

I Think I've Found My Calling.

Part of me really wants to watch One Lunatic, One Icepick. This part of me became quite dominant recently, that I went as far as finding the website where the video was located, brief myself on what the site is about, click on some icons of what I thought to be less graphic than others, and eventually searched the site for the video. I was brought to a page of a couple articles on the reaction to the video in the mainstream media, and one article giving a review of the video. There was a thumbnail picture of...something really terrible.

I'm sort of a fucked up person. I've sort of contemplated giving into my homicidal urges. I've sort of thought aggressively about destroying my own life. Among other things.

But seeing that tiny thumbnail of a photograph, and knowing full well what it was.....
I have never felt that sick in my entire life. Not the flu or hangover kind of sick. Not the kind of sick you feel when hear your boss yell, "YOU SELLING LOTS?!"for the 36th time that day. The kind of sick you feel when you hear about a child being abused. The kind of sick you feel when you hear about a rapist serial killer who preys on preteen boys. The kind of sick you feel when you finally realize how tortuous of a lifestyle your grandparents lived. Two world wars, a great depression, watching pop music go from Louis Armstrong to The Spice Girls and back again to something nice like The Black Keys but by that point you're so old that you don't care about anything and music has left your life and because of that you feel so lonely and sad that you die quietly in your sleep, all by your self. Among other things.

There isn't much in this life that my cognitive mind cannot understand, or even try to understand. The motive behind Luca Magnotta is one of them. Vince Li, the man who beheaded young Tim McLean on a Greyhound Bus in Sunny Manitoba, I can understand.

Mental illness is a real and terrifying thing. When you start to disarm the stigma around mental illness, only then can you begin to understand why people feel so inclined to perform such fatal acts. I believe people with mental illness need to be heard on a louder scale. Mental Illness needs as much awareness, if not more, than Cancer, AIDS, Heart & Stroke, Lung Disease, Poverty, Michael Jackson, etc. I am going to do something about this.

I Am Mrs. Philosoraptor.

if the only thing you knew about me was my taste in music, how would you judge me?