The last post.....

On this site. Forever. Want to know why? Because I moved. HERE!!!!! I am a big girl blogger now. I have a real um...I think it's called a domain? I is legal. Ha.

Please, come see my new crib. Update me in your readers and all that jazz. Email stays the same, so don't worry about that. Might take a few days, er weeks for me to understand how to use everything over there, but I won't be posting here anymore. It's been real blogger. I heart you for everything. But I'm moving to the big leagues.

Hugs, Issa

http://issascrazyworld.com/

The time has come, the walrus said...

to talk of many things: Of shoes and ships and sealing wax; Of cabbages and kings. And why the sea is boiling hot and whether pigs have wings. --Lewis Carroll

I have become a somewhat of a piece of fruit to the gnats of the troll world. Each day it seems there is someone else wanting to tell me how horrible a person I am.

Just this week alone, I've had three rather unpleasant trolls invading my space here. The first two were on the post that I read at the keynote. I guess my "stats" about the homeless were lies in their eyes...although funny enough, I don't remember giving stats. Mostly, I was talking about my uncle. I was informed that since a homeless guy killed someone recently, I basically am a liar. Interestingly enough, a friend of mine was kind enough to tell me that a man killed his wife in their home in the past week. Shit happens. (Heck people, OJ Simpson killed his ex-wife and her husband in BRENTWOOD no less, surrounded by mansions and he got away with it.) People are not all good. Not all homeless people are mentally ill. But see, I never said they were, I said a lot of them are. Which is true. Sorry that it wasn't technical enough, nor informative enough in regards to the homeless, but this isn't a newspaper. I am not getting paid to write. These are my stories based on my life.

The third, a comment last night, was on my post from May, when I told you all about my miscarriage in April. I am not sure why people love to attack on that post, but they sure as hell do. I'll quote this one, because it's highly informative:

"This is such crap! Morning sickness DOES NOT start until you are two months or more pregnant. You are a crazy attention seeker. Get help before you start to affect innocent children. I feel sorry for those around you."

Somehow this one kind of makes me laugh. Really, no pregnant woman EVER gets sick before month two? I beg to differ. But what do I know? I've only been pregnant now, five times. Ladies? Care to share how early you felt sick? Yes there are people out there who don't, I've had a pregnancy like that. Yes there are people who are four months before they know they are pregnant. But me? I know my body pretty dam well. Sorry if that doesn't seem right to you.

I am an attention seeker? Really? Hmmm. As I look back, I see that I didn't post for nearly two months. Yes, there are posts on this site, from April and May, but the majority of them were written by my friends, not by me. I said something...and trust me, I almost didn't say a word...because this is my space for one, but also because I wanted to explain my absence from the blog/twitter world. Maybe having a blog that is open to the public means I am an attention seeker in some way. But that means all of us are in some way. Maybe though, it's human nature to find a community of like minded people who want to support each other. Ever think of that? That the people who comment here are my friends?

However, and this is my main point in writing this at all. This is my site. My blog. My space. See, my name is written on the top there?

I am tired. Tired of defending myself. Tired of getting emails sent to my phone at 11pm from trolls. Tired of trying to find a way to make it where I don't accept anonymous comments. Blogger just doesn't make it that easy. I know I should ignore. You all say that. I get it. Intellectually at least. But I'm not that type of a person. It sits with me, days after I've deleted it. Frankly it sucks. If it continues, I will go a different route with comments. I just don't know what that means yet.

This is now a troll free zone. You are not welcome here. You have been deleted and you will continue to be deleted. However every time someone is an asshat troll here, I am keeping the IP address. If this continues, I will start publishing them. Just for kicks. Because this is my site. My space. My sanctuary.

Today is just not my day

I've had a few good weeks. Weeks without depression, weeks without tears. Weeks where getting out of bed was easy. Weeks where I didn't have to try to feel okay, it came naturally. (Or as naturally as it will ever come, when I'm on medication.)

I've felt it creeping back, that fuckhead depression. Didn't miss it. It could have stayed gone for ever, as far as I was concerned. I hoped it would. But no, it doesn't seem to listen very well. It's very inconsiderate like that.

I could blame it on the letdown of being back at home after a fun filled week. I could blame it on my baby girl going to kindergarten soon. I could probably blame it on the two year anniversary of losing a piece my heart and a bit of my mind.

But it's not really any of that. Mostly it's just today.

Today is one of those days. A day where getting out of bed took too much effort. A day where I don't care if I speak to anyone at all. A day where I am glad that my kids are with a cousin, because I don't have it in me to deal with them. If they were here, I'd deal. No question about it. But they're not today, so I'm allowed to just deal with myself. I don't have to pretend.

I keep hoping one day that this will all go away. That I can go back to being the girl who I used to be. The girl with no real problems, who'd experienced heartache, but not at the level in which I have now.

I don't think she exists anymore though.

I've opened twitter about ten times, but I haven't said a thing. I have read what others have written, but not found anything to respond too. I try, because I think if I can start a conversation about nothing, maybe I will start to feel better. But I don't.

I want to tell you how funny my girls are. How big Harrison is getting. About my SIL's wedding next week. I'd rather be telling you how much I miss my conference peeps. How lonely it feels to go and get coffee alone every morning. But I just can't today.

Today sucks. Today I just want to hide. Today, I may just hide. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.