scully's Blog

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_7bjEEcNnRQ

Lullaby for Dana

Fly, fly, above the clouds
Fly above the rainbow
Go high, above us all,
See the things you shall know

Dream, dream, the magic cards,
Dream of more than they show,
Sleep on, until next night,
Wake up in the last glow,

Sing, sing, and close your eyes,
Sing (it) until you grow,
One day, the sun will rise
On your head and you'll know

Fly, fly, above the clouds,
Fly above the rainbow,
One day the sun will rise,
On your head and you'll know...

That week has been hard. Not the worse of my life but it's just a continuity of bad things since I was born.

I need to talk this all out.

My father beated my mother. I remember that since I was very little. He beated me once. I grew up in stress and fear until the age of 5. I was mistreated at school. I'm on none of the class pictures because the "teacher" left me alone, humiliated, for I was a leftie. The next slapped me, scared me, threatened and stole some of my toys. At 5, my mother seperated from her husband. New school. But I refused to write. My father annoyed her, us, my family, calling the police for 5 mins when he had me on the WE. WE of fear, hearing women are all *****s and bitches. One way later, my mother and I moved 1000 km away. We were alone, and honestly I can only remember the evening I spent alone, or my mother always tired. Then she got cancer, colon cancer. I saw my father for some holidays. I was very scared of him. He touched me under the shower I was 8. He tried to kill me by putting a pillow on my head, during a thunderstorm night (why I'm so phobic?), and by watching me drawn. I was saved in extremis by a boy. People were shocked at his behavior. It was the last time I saw him. I stole from 7 to 9. Don't know why. My mother was quite sick, so I had my school life, I worked well not to bother my mom. She told me then the name of my real father. I was 10. That was a shock and I didn't want to admit what she told me. She had a treatment. Then not covered, so she died, slowly. A long agony. All I could do at school or at home couldn't change that fact. I went to live with my grand parents. I had been the bullied for 2 years. New school again. But this time I was prompter to show my fist, so I was more respected and made some friends. I started to see that man, blond, from 11 to 26. Weird things, encounters, documents hidden. Words caught. My grand father died when I was 17; a heart attack. At least, he respected my difference and loneliness. That year, my best friend moved, with his parents. He was "mulder" to me. I began to be a cutter at 15, and still am, with months, and even years of interruption, but it's still here, the emptiness. Worthlessnes, no sense in life. Changing grade school to highschool was very hard. Living highschool killed me a little, inside. I drank a lot; until I started having panics. I was 18. I wandered in bars, or at friends. Smoked like a fire engine. One year then though I tried to kick my ass and get my Life on track. Quit drinking and went 2 years at the UNI. Then I was raped, got pregnant, was refused the abortion because holidays, no time. I met my partner by this time. It took me four months to tell him the truth. I think I really became borderline by then. 21. I had a little money I had saved. I left with him. The baby was adopted in 2002. And I lived reclusive or nearly for years, until I had to work. But I had a Grant to go back to the UNI, so I took my chance. Marks were an A. Until my father in law died of lung cancer 3 weeks after the diagnosis. I didn't want to annoy my partner. I was there, I bottled up. I started having huge panics again. Be hypocondriac. I nearly denied myself for 2 years. December 1, 2006, after months of looking for a Job, ended up at mcdo. Two weeks, for a better job, a full time. A poisoned gift. I lived at my partner's mother. While he got up at night to take girls phone calls. Coming back at 2 am smelling perfume. I didn't sleep, didn't eat. Was insulted and humiliated before costumers. Fainted. Got fired. I remembered all my mother told me about my real father. Chris Carter, brother Craig, father william charles carter. And earlier, she told me I had my father's smile, but not of the one I thought. I was in clinical depression for about a month. I slept 13 hours a day. Ate almost nothing. Early 2007, started searching a Job , On the street everyday, door-to-door, never touched any aids, only my partner was there for me. I've felt guilty about that. I found a job in september. Lasted 9 months. Not enough hours, the minimum not paid. Poverty. I found a "black Job" for the month then. I found a Job 2 months then. Lasted until march of this year, same scheme. Abusive, suppression of hours on a 1/3 Time already. Harrassment. Depression. Sick leave. My psy says I suffer from chronic disphoria. No kidding. My couple looks more like a friendship. I'm poor.


This week, I was diagnosed with BPD. I was accepted in long disease, but they cut me my indemnities. So I can't work, but I have no aids, I didn't make enough hours. Yet It's these poverty jobs that led me to the abyss. The little independence I had has slipped away. I'll be depending on my partner. Unbearable. They should better give me a gun right away. I've always tried to fix things, to work though I'm pretty anxious in social stuff, including work. All these work in therapy. Did it all for nothing. I asked my partner if he loved me, he said "no", I said "really?" he said "of course". I don't know if he was serious or if it's his way to humor things up. But today it was too bad, once he was off to bed I cried. I'm really hopeless. I think about my real dad. Like if it was time to say goodbye. I'm very sad I'll certainly never know him.

Violence, rape, humiliation, loss, deaths, lies, betrayals, abuses. I don't know other. Except my partner he's a little different, but I can't talk with him. He doesn't hug, even when I need, and I let him live, not on his back. All that is the truth. Fucking true. Very tired.

Or Borderline Personality Disorder. 

Chronic feelings of emptiness, being unloved and unlovable, anger. Too emotional (even if it's inside mostly, it's real). Addictions. Fragilized image of self. Self-harm. So here I am. I have a BDP. 

Not neurotic, not psychotic, but in between. And in the time, it's got nothing to do with the first or the second, it's a proper state, a PD, personality disorder. I built myself on it, grew like that. Childood mistreatements (emotional, psychological, some physical abuses, at school too, for being leftie), especially from birth to 10, and then my mother's death at 11, are for the greatest part in to what I am (emptiness, unloved, anger). My "uncertain" identity stems from I built myself not really knowing who I am. My origins my father. Heard something on one side, then another thing on the other side. That from here, this from there. But It's a life of doubt. 

Paradoxically, my strenght, although I'm reserved and do go naturally to people, is my deep social conscience and compassion. It's my balance. And I practice a reorganization of my life, getting up earlier, getting to bed earlier, do things I like to do "force" myself. To never start having psychotic traits. Meds help me to sleep. I'm not as insomnia as I used to be. I' willing to go with my therapy. That way, it fits. 

I'm ven between being altruist and selfish. I made it. I was very altruist before, became selfish with all the hate and ignorance I received back to my kindness. And now I've found my balance. 

So I chose life, and the treatment and help I'm offered. I chose the efforts, though it's hard, getting up is hard, do my stuff is hard. Some days, it's just impossible. But I try further. I quit alcohol definitely, as it's not good for me, worse than for someone "normal". 

I do not have a depressed personality. It's a comorbidity. Not sure it's the same thing for anxiety. My BDP would stem from a complex PTSD (post-traumatic-syndrome-disorder), meaning I lived too many hard things, abuses for too long and too young to cope correctly now, with other situations, too. 

But I'm angry. I'm choosing the best of what I can, but I'm angry. I didn't choose to live the abuses, and now I'm punished with lifelong impairments. I pay for what I was done, not for what I have done. How do you want me to honestly say I love people then? I try to take people individually, but some days, I just want silence, or music. These days I try not to be as hard on myself. mid days, I try to help others and think positive, and good days, well, just good days, I try to enjoy, and let others enjoy (there're not so many of them for now, but I passed more on the mid days than bad days). 

To Scully herself, I mean, who cares? She's a fictional character. But me, I'm a human being, made of flesh and blood. Who thinks, but also feels, fears, and hurts. I 'mean sometimes I'm HURT when I see her. 

My natural hair color is light brown/dark blonde, but I LOVE red hair (the truth? I love red hair since I was in grade 1.  A friend of mine had beautiful red hair then). Since then I've wanted to have these hair IN particular because I have  a fair complexion  (very pale skin, very blue eyes, freckles)...

My father has a third eye? I wish those who can answer me do. Family. Father. Uncle/ant. Gillian... 

I'm very independent, whether I can be or not, I'm not eazy when, not. I'm me, very me, I trust Me first. I'm just 29, but I have a luggage trust me, you cant's bullshit me so easily. I try to be friendly though. But I feel some lies. And I'm disappointed. But' life's so. I'm very sensitive and emotional, and more intuitive than I want to accept it. I think by myself, I'm skeptic then. But this world is full of shit. I don't feel attacked every minute, but I know this world is full of lies, achievers, money, money, money. Not much justice and rights, what I fight for, whatever job I do. Then I'm not a scientist of formation, but I love science, and I see me well working  in environement. Or scientific stuff. I have a languages degree and communicaitions degree. I wento the UN? but really, I know people of the street, people who have less than the A-level, and they do better, and i have admiraiton for them. In the world of today. 

Fox has come back at about 1.40 am. Short  for me. But I don't hide him I'm drunk. Like I didn't hide him when I cut. I didn't tell him 'I cut'. But he asked me. I just told him the truth. I was raped. He knows. There's still a sort of barrier,  between me and he, but between me and anyone. Any man. I do not do it on purpose. It's a reflex. Maybe he loves more my values and brain, then. The same I value from him. Doesnt' mean he's ugly (really not, it's just a plus). But it's really not the more important. I need someone who just let me be like I am. I see friends, with guys around them, it's not so obvious. But to me, it's just not to negociate. If I bear a partner at home, it's in freedom. We're loyal, and faithful. But the rest. Pff puifff, let it be. 

I don't how it will end, do you?

Am I bored? No analytical. 

What do I think about comparing? Well, we're an unusual couple. I see it compared to everyone around. We're a bit apart already, each of us, for one or another reason. I think we go well together. We're linked on the sacrifices we've done for each other and that stick us, and our friendship. We're accepting of the other flaws. We're both two very honest and true people. We don't like hypocrisy. We're rather two intellectuals. We don't like to spend time with doing "silly" things (like shopping lol). We have first an intellectual relationship. And mostly that. I've never been so linked to someone "platonically". There's something magical about it, I didn't think I could have the chance to live it. We're rather simple. The sprit before, the heart too, and then the rest. Not happily married. Happily unmarried. 

Then, we're not FBI agents running across the US, (and the world, at times). But a search for the truth in daily life, for ourselves, our relationships, our relations, it's the essence of it. Our cognitive ways are different, though. 

The thing we have in common (each) with the characters:

Fox: the humor definitely. He's really funny, and he's got a sense of it, being funny, a cooly way or a crazy way at times, and he doesn't care where or to whom he crackes them. He doesn't care how he dresses, how is his hair. He's unique and original. He's got lots energy. He's even exuberant, to me. He's very smart. He 's good with computers, but also a good concrete or abstract problem solver. He's a fast and right thinker. He's intuitive. He's got no religious attachment and little patience with it. But he'd rather laugh about it than fight it. He likes porn (not as much as Mulder, hopefully lol). He needs to be outside. He can't stay days and days inside, sometimes he's got the speed. It's not easy to follow him. He's kind of cute ; ) and he can make a puppy face, the kind that makes YOU feel guilty lol He's not always in line with the law. Not serious things, he respects life and others things. He's just very himself. He's pretty stubborn! He doesn't smoke or drink. He's not very family. He's a free spirit, hanging like he wants in a way. He's unbriddled (and that's how he's the better). He can be out of control, even for me, which I don't mind, unless he can hurt himself or others. He didin't have many women in his life. I guess I'm the third very important. He had a more nomal childhood than Mulder., though not so good either. 

Me: I'm introveted and reserved. I like my quiet, and I spend lots of time alone. I love my independence and my way to do things for myself. I love to do searches on the internet. I read lots of things people absolutely don't care about. I love science. It's a sort of guide, but I always have a spirituality. I'm very sensitive and emotional, though, I keep mostly everything inside. I'm sensitive to music and arts. I'm attracted to healing people. I have an absolute good will in me. I'm very honest, and LOYAL. I have an integrity no one has stepped in, so far. Only me. I've had "things" in dreams that happened then, or "telling" me things that happened then. I can be feisty, angry, grumpy, and withdrawn. I'm stubborn too, but with more subtility lol I had an adopted child. I had the one who had father role to me die of a heart attack, and he was a sailor. I have a very pale skin, blue eyes, and I'm small. And I love my old black coat! Each one their taste! I have intuition, I'm an intuit, but I fear it, and follow more my logic. My real hair color is light brown/dark blonde, but I love red hair. 

Things we have different:

Fox: he's not a believer at all. He's got more a Doggett belief, but with more free-thinking. I mean, you can't bullshit him with such things. He's got his own path. He  believes in what he sees mostly. He's more with horaries. He sleeps well. He eats well. He sleeps in a bed. He's got more daily habbits. He's the one who's good at maths, and counting, hard logic. 

Me: I care reallly less about my appearance, and I've got simpler clothes. I sleep bad. I'm more the believer, a skeptic open-minded let's say. I have anxiety dreams. I enjoy less authority. not saying Scully buys all, but I'm more Mulder on that. I had a weird childhood. Bad. I'm more family-free, as I don't have my mother. I'm the one who may have "another father". I'm the one who's running after the truth. I have no horaries, and honestly, I'm happier like that (they're trying to "re"educate" me, but nothing tells they're right in fact). I'm not a scientist. I'm more psycholosist/artist. I do NOT believe in god, I have a more free spirituality.

I think we found ourselves right; It was a hazard. Or not. I don't know. I don't care. 

October, 23

I took my exam, DLC, this morning. I think it's dead for the 5(/5) stars. Explanattions... 

The DLC is cut in several parts. First part (1.30), you take infos from written docus (6 here), and audios docus (2 here). It was okay, even easy, I understood all... But, you also have to prepare the questions you'll have to ask for 10 MINUTES phone part then. So it makes 1.15 for thesearch in documents in the end. The phone is the part when I shat myself I think. I passed on the question to beasked. Because to me it wasn't necessary to the whole thing. I went to much into details. But hopefully, I'm fluent, so I could blah my speaker. But I'm not happy with that part. Then, there're 20 minutes to prepare your oral. Good. The oral went god, hey, I'm fluent, that's a really good advantage. I was incredibly cool (but most of the time I'm very cool at exams, it's yesterday evening I was a little nervous), and I pointed a kind of third solution, I think no one else proposed that (my twisted mind :p thanks Chris, thanks XF). And then I had to write a memo/report. I had 40 minutes. It took me 20 minutes to write it. I'm so USED to writing on boards. A fluent written English. Then I took ten minutes to re-read it. I think I read it all SEVEN times lol So, for me, I'm severe with myself, so I give me a 3/5 level. More accurate 4/5. If they see more my fluency/nearly bilanguism now (wow, I'm happy, you know I've been targetting that since I was 12). I'm  disappointed because I think the thing I missed was because I lacke concentration (after more than one hour to foicus on the same thing), he yeah, I'm still in depression/treatment. I forgot to take my treatement this morning. I wouldn''t give me a 5, honestly, I would gie me  a 3. But criterias are supposed to be objective, only, people aren't. Results: November 18; 3 pm, on the net. 

PS: I was worried I wouldn't understand everything, but i was actually so easy, audio tunes, people. It felt great. It's like French :DDD So I think I achieved one of my dreams, I'm bilangual, now I  just have to live in an anglophone country to talk shit like y'all lol :p And I was cooler because Fox took one hour on his time to bring me there with the car. There was a radio show LOOOOLLLL and Fox sure. I was a little worried he missed one hour, because it's hard for him at work, he's got his job, his chief's job, and paid only like its job (grrr, I would kick their asses), and h does goood, but people are going away! (off the site). I mean, I'm lucky to have him, but THEY more, because there're ain't two brains like his. And what I give him is free. Fukcers. Flowery vocabulary, and I've got others. 

Beside that, the cats were both sick. I went 4 times to the vet, Nougat's vaccins, Scully was infected. Welll everybody's doing good now. I have a good vet, really she's great, she loves all animals, and treat creatures, any, humanly. I feel lucky she's got her work place so close. That feels good to have someone like her around. I feel it, it's not like pepe' who welcomes you to make it right, she's genuine. That's my "gift", I feel genuine peep' = ) 

So still on therapy, and doing things in my accordance. Yeah, easy said, do people really realizes how the world is today? But he's rigth, compromises, not suicide mission, in accordance with what I can take. Which means, not many people, not much noise. Unless I find a very "family" team (like the x files?). He says my difference shouldn't make me shy away, but just be, adn let myself in things I can do. I know, but lately, work is hard to find...

Then, well, I'm trying to make something for tomorrow evening. With Aurore. With Fox maybe. Or just Aurore and I. Well I want ot celebrate her driver's licence. She's 35 and her husband's wants to control (although she's not submissiveb, but there're children). And so I wanted to make a dinner, and a prezzie. Better if Fox is there.

I like to spend time also on facebook, with old school friends, or philes, or some family members. Actually, I'm a social person, just, I also need time alone, listening to mmusic, writing, reading, on the internet. Thats' why Fox and I get so well together. But he's "cooler" in the crowd. Definitely. And music. And all.  = ) I 've got bad moments still,a dn some crackages, but also good friends. I talk with "Gillian". She's that friend I talked about in "ways" my semi authobiographical stuff on that blog. 

And I eriously starting singing again. I quit smoking about 5 years ago. Incredible all I have back in my voice, and breath. I LOVE singing. If I weren't so an un'crowd person, that's what I'd do, something musical. I acted to. I used too. 2 years in primary school, 3 years in grade school, and I did some months at the art school. After all, my Godmother is a pianist and an artist, my mother was a lyrical diplomed singer, my other aunt is a pianist and dancer (high level), my grand-father was a tenot singer, trulmpetist, writer, and my father might be a writer. Writing, it's my stuff, singing and writing. Only, singing asks to let it go, what I need and do  better, and writing aslks more coherence and concentration. Concentration, like I wrote above,  is my black beats these days. But I still love writng, or I wouldn't be here. 

I just had other things to do lately, out of the exam. I'm on suicideforum.com   lately. I have support, but I also bring lots of support, and as many laughs as I can. That's how I see the world. And yeah, I'm a VERY introvert. But how else that together, humanly, do you want ot to work in harmony, for the end of times? 

This evening, if he wants to, it's Fox's massage. Meaning I do the massage. I'm not a haithian, but I'm not bad for a French girl :p 8 years and a half. We should forget of little flaws of these who've there so long, and value all the good they've done to us. I've got friends, some I've know sice I was born lol 2 exactly, and Melissa, she was borne before me, Fox, nearly 9 years. Gaby and Audrey I new respectively, in grade school, and primary school. David I've known since primary school too. And Frohike. I've knwon him since 2002. So 7 years, damn. I have few real friends but I keep them. And now Aurore, about 2 years, and it's supposed to go on. She's ultra cool, simple, open-minded, creative, the kind of people I surround myself with. 

I listened to a lot of music.  I don't know if I'll post right now. But I'll do. I'm listening, right now, to Mike Oldfield - The top of the morning. How I love it = )

Other facts: I made other friends on facebook. Philes too = ) My teman and I are 10th in the never ending XF quizz = ) But I target better, always = ) In the end, am I an INTJ, or INFJ? Both? Who cares. I am and I do. And It's a higher, and happier perspective on life. The heart of people. Yet, I still value the 3 I: Integrity, independence, intelligence. But without a pure, good, honest heart, it's worth nothing. 

Thanks to all the people who insipred me, and there're a lot. I'm ME, but I think it's a mark of intellingence, to consider, that other speaking, can be as right as you are. 

To them: FOX, Mulder, Melissa, GILLIAN, Chris Carter, Kim Manners (how much I loved you, you're one of these who keeps me alive, strangely, other XF crewsers, GODMOTHER, MOM

Galileo, Isaac Newton, Albert Einstein, Jules Verne, Robin Hobb, Homer simpson (yeah, he), Platon, Yann Barthez, Coluche, and nayone who's open-minded, humorors, for tolerating differences. And I must say Darin Morgan too, what a man like I love them = )

So a big HELLO/LOVE YOU to (the list might be long)(?):

Fox (mine, Chris), Flo, Coco, Audrey, Gaby, David, Aurore, Rose-Marie, Marjorie, Melissa, Mulder, Chris, Gillian, David, Martin, Jill, Laura, Flo, MOM, Pascal, Karl, Julie, Kate, Petra, Cecile, Agathe, Bayou, Freddy, Freddo, Yusuf, Brendan, Sabi, Julien,Severine, Chris (another), Chris (another else), Franck, Oussama, Thierry, Frederique, Gwen, Remi, Sophie, Olivier, Xavier, Patrick, Jennifer, Matthieu, Aude, Uncle Tasco, Granny, Papy François, Aunt Francie, Michel, Cindy, Jules, Soazig, Scarlett, Ben, Kassie, Clem, Claire, Sophie (another), Ron, Ronan (Irish guy, don't be so desperate!), Joan! Dolly, Bertrand, Damien, Yannick, Fred, Brice.... etc

There's os many of you, I'm sorry, I cant' name ALL the friends I've met. YES I'm a very introvert. But also, YES I love people, and mmmmmmore, I want to improve their condition, to all, and our world. 

And if you need, don't kill youself, you're worth it, write/vent: suicicdeforum.com

Need help? Missiontohell

Do it, don't kill yourself. Only bad people could deserve, and not even, so YOU? NO WAY!

See you soon peep' :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

ANd sorry for the typing. Too fats, Too much, too drunk? aha =  ) or maybe I"m just too hungry to write it all.

I wrote earlier that I had a family, more or less of artists, in the general term of it. I say more or less because to me they always saw little, with the talent they had. Amateurs. I  try to beat that low spirit myself, to make it. My God mother plays the piano, and she really IS an artist. It's the only picture I could grab. 

It's the first dream I remember in a while. Before I used to remember a lot my dreams, and it's been more complex, because more mixed up, since I'm in therapy. 

That's the dream:

I was in front of the house of my grand-parents, and there was my grand-mother, like she looked like the last time I saw her, and I was talking to her, I looked like I am nowadays. I yelled at her, "he's there look! in the tank", as a tank, an army stuff, kaki, but with a little window at the back with him watching. I followed the tank, and I came to the other side of the street (an elbow shaped street), and the road was all broken, stones, asphalt. There were people, the neighbors, and chris carter on the street, walking away, not in the tank anymore. I ran to him and made him stop, and I asked him "are you Chris Carter?", he said "yes". "How come you're here? Are you following me?" he said "I have a house not far, I live here." Then he disappeared, up to the street. I followed him there, and as he walked on the opposite sidewalk, head down like a coward running away, I told him "you're a coward and you suck!", and he said "thank you". I watched the street behing me (the second part of the elbow street). It wasn't anymore broken. It was all fixed. Or just like never had changed. But it had. Carter was watching me, behind me. It was really weird.

I dream in English. the stuff is, I'm French. I didn't realize it before. It's my partner who told me, once I fell asleep, that I spoke while sleeping, and I spoke in English, he didn't understand what I said. It's weird because he talked to me, he said "Dana, ...." and for a while, I had difficulties to understand French. It took some seconds. It was like an unknown language. 

This is my cousin, and she looks a lot more like GA than me, except the eyes. 

I've never been so down since I started the therapy. I just can't stop thinking about the next evening I'll be alone to drink and cut myself. I haven't given up on therapy, or the treatment, but I really start wondering what the point is. My therapist tried to convince me, by scaring me(?), I don't know it sounded like a sort of neutral intimidation to me, that I was in the wrong for something that I care a lot for, and after a day of coping, I just realize he actually conforted me in the idea I was right, and I am right. Nobody can't know better for me than me. And no one will convince me of the contrary. I see my psychiatrist on Thursday. I'm very skeptic about all that now. 

I had taken some weight back but I'm losing it quite fast, again, I have latent persistent anxiety, somatized, so it's very pleasant all day long. I have aggravated sleeping problems again, when it started to improve. I can't be controlled. It was a mistake from him. It makes me panic to be controlled, inside. He thinks he controls me, but it never happens that way, not with me. The more you control, the more I escape from you. 

I'm regressing. And I don't want to see people. I tolerate my partner, because he's helpful, positive, cool. But for the rest. I'd rather be alone. I'm actually alone all day time, and I feel pretty good about it. I spend time on facebook, lots of application, friends, philes, some family. If you want to join:

Dana Gourdon-Ribéra

Any comment about what I wrote, therapy, is welcome. 

I cut myself. I haden't done it in 8 years. I have an psychiatrist appointment today, an inauguration, a diner, am I just nuts? How am I onna tell my partner? Will I tell? It's so private. I don't want to share that. I want to cut more. I cut my right arm. I'm nuts, it shows. I'll cut legs, belly instead. I just want to do it again. I don't really know why. I feel less empty, more in control? Maybe I've felt empty from abandonement, but I do so well alone, I don't want to depend on anyone. I've felt not really in control not enough, I feel the state and the world more in control of me than myself. I need lots of independence. And it's not enough. I don't want to offend the law of the society, but hear it when I say I can't breathe. All these years. And for some months the therapy, the meds. It's all fuckes. or it's geting out of my body in the end? I hope it's a passage. I guess I'll wear long sleeves tomorrow. I'm so ashamed of me. Like usually, outside I'm bloody cold and in control and inside it's like a chaos. Most of people are in control, or not. but me. I feel weird. Just like this afternoon, I went at the bank to take an appy, and my counselor told I was atypical, for my third name use; and maybe my clothes, or my hearphones, I don't know. Hurt others is impossible, it's a crime, but hurt myself is normal. It's deserved. but no rationally, I've done nothing to deserve what I do to myself. The thing is, I don't want to die. 

I am here. 

I don't so much care about who's my father after all. I'm registered, file number at the key, for an exam on October 23, and I'll know it's going to be alright. I don't need a father. I don't need a partner, and it's the more painful, because losing my parter would cut the half of me empty for the rest of my life. I need no one. To work. To move. to do. I need to live, to love, to cry. 

My family is trying to grab me. It seems. but I've been walking without them since I was very young, and when I say very young, I don't mean 20, I mean more 10. I choose the people around me very carefully, and it won't change. My trust is worth it, and it's no superficial relationship to have. I read my aunts. I don't know. They take me for an idiot or what? A picture can prove who's my father, who're my parents? My eyes? Then everybody since I was 13 have been telling me I've got Gillian Anderson's eyes, does it make of her my mother? QUIT your delirium guys, not me. No pics have even proved somone family's relation. Only DNA can.

Well, I still feel very empty. But in the same time, I need no one. It's weird feeling to experience. In the same time I feel lost, because I think I don't have my proper story or name/identity, and in the same time I feel very confident, I can't say I really have a social phobia. It's more than we're definitely not interested in the same thing, the mass, and me. I don't recognize me in them, I don't spend time with them. I save my time, my heakth, my nerves. Logic, no? I spend TOO much time alone? What does it mean? TOO much time for whom? I feel perfectly okay that way. I'm 200% independent, and it's not necessarily a gift. Because you always need to be social one way or the other. I think I could envy the real Scully, because even in her work time, she's free, with Mulder, but I don't, because I know I'll make it BIG TIME.

Hello all who reads me. 

Like you know or not, I've had a blank passage the past two weeks. I'm feeling a little better today. My antibio treatment is over this evening. I have these chronic sinustes/rhinites, and there  again. And a bad throat sur-infection. I'm still on depression/anxiety treatment, and in therapy. I shall end my psy tests (the firsts at least) on Monday. I think I'm borderline, honestly. But we'll see it's their job, they'll tell me. My generalist and I have filled in the documents for I'm admitted in long term disease. I'm supported by the center, and my psychiatrist too. That'll give me six months more to make things right, and maybe they'll start taking me seriously and engage real procedures for my illness. 100% of their pocket now. 

I'm in explosive communication with my Godmother. But I have my convictions, and way of living, and I know better than anyone what I've lived and what I saw. Not even she can influence my judgment. I'm proud of it for that. For the first time of my life, I'm not proud for something I do, but for something I am. A part of it, and I just intend to progress more. My Godmother says I'm very beautiful, and that I have a strong character. My partner said I'm not very beautiful, just beautiful, and indeed have a very bloody strong character. He's very honest, what I like. When I ask him if I took some kilos on the ass, he says yes, he doesn't bullshit me. I like that. It was strange though, to hear him say I was beautiful. He's not the kind to spare compliments. Anyway, I'm not the kind to accept them easily either. But, it felt like I was 15 and met my big love. I'm 29 and we've known for 8 years. But it feels the same. No, it feels better. It's real. 

I called Chris again, and will go on. I take it with humor now. I'm not insultant, just it's a drama I laugh about. I called Craig and left a message too. 

I really want to change name, well first name. For the name, if I have my first name, that is the very intimate root of a human being, I'll do with the name. I want to change for Dana. That's how I've been called for more than ten years (except my family, but wait, that's gonna be 9 years I haven't seen them). I made a petition. It'"s in French, but here's the link, "for the right to change name", because in France we can't, without a lawyer and a judge decides, it's nearly never granted. I wish I was English. For everybody I'm Dana, except for legal paperwork, and job. Official society. Guess why I avoid all that then. I want my own and only personality. And it's no reconstruction like I thought in the beginning, it's a construction. That means I'll become better and stronger that I've been, and it gives me confidence, and make me want to be even more independent. 

http://www.petitionduweb.com/Pour_que_le_changement_de_prenom_soit_un_droit_-4940.html

I also go to talk, sometimes on a suicide forum. It helps me. It's more positive to face what you are and want than to deny it, at least to yourself. Here's the link:

http://www.suicideforum.com/

My aunt and Godmother, and my uncle

My cousins, in age order the girls only)

Me, with my new too cool hearphones

A must of Scully Louloute

Nougat sleeping on the intermediate table

And pics of Fox at the canoe

"This is not my job anymore Mulder", like the real Scully would say. 

I've got things to say, lo lay, today. 

I was said that I am self-centered, and to be very clear, to some point, I am. Fox says of me I'm generous. But because he's less than me; but he was really less before. Before we met. Like I didn't know how to hold my money account properly before I knew him. We do learn from each others, concretely, and others. So I'm not self-centered in terms of money, or time (though I need lots of time alone). But with my emotions and pain, and love I am. that doesn't mean it's not real, just that it doesn't show. But to people, to me it takes time. I won't change that, because I need that minimum to work correctly. 

I'm in a very stress today. So I took (a little) alcohol to drink. Papers, and papers, and papers. I ran when I got up to have things done. I'll be certainly accepted a prolongation of sick leave, to six months more. When I received the papers to fill in, I had panics. I felt guilty, guilty to be in sick leave, guilty to be sick, guilty not to be strong enough, not enough, never enough. Crazy no? But true. The papers said nothing bad to me, nothing bad about me, it's just a procedure, and I do know it! I consciously know it, but feelings are stronger than that. They come from very deep inside, from ages, dark ages like I say, what we don't know or don't remember. Or both. I sent all that was needed, did all that was needed, even went to see the doctor. Tension: 10,6. It's a little law, but I take antidepressants. But it's little law still. Because I was nervous when I got there. I expected 11,7, more. I'm about 12,7-8 naturally. I hold on, really, to that all, just days I'm just, just....

They were great everywhere I've been today. I feel like I don't deserve. I'm a wreck, and be thrown to the trash. I hurt a lot. Sometimes physically too. But I know at least the half of the Earth hurts more than I do. Just the thought of it. I feel a ball in my throat and stomach nearly all the time. My doc says it's anxiety/anguish. Yeah I know that. But thinking about it, I want to retch. So I hold on, I don't have the right to do anything else. I don't have the right to make more mistakes now. I drank already. I'm not proud of it, really not. I don't drink day-time usually, it's the first time. But I wanted to cut myself. I think I chose the better. Because I KNow how cutting is addictive. Alcohol I don't use it daily mostly because Fox is there around,a lot, and I owe him that. He's patient, kind, generous, so positive. Sometimes it's like he's on speed, he's quite nervous. But it's cool, because I'm very slow of nature, low-key. It's a sort of balance. 

This is not my job anymore to worry for EVERYBODY ANYTIME on ALL Earth. I can't do that. It'll take time before I don't feel guilty anymore. But I need to do that. I care enough. I can't do it all. No one can. 

Thank you to all people who wished me my birthday: Fox, Coco, Flo, Marjorie, Katia, Scarlett, Ben, Julie, Rose-Marie, Fanny, François, Marie-Christine, Gull, Gaby, Analisse, Sabrina, Aurore, Fredo, Sarah, Alex, Claude, Tasco, Franck, Ivana, Pierre, David, Audrey, Jean-Noel, Marie, Huguette, Simon, Frohike, Lucas ... THANK YOU!!!!