Pretty Pink Pills

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 Chapter 1: Naiveté Effaced

The pretty pink pills are destroying my life and I am destroying myself.  I have no self-control and would give anything to feel just different even as fake and ephemeral it is.  I know the drugs don’t work and they make it worse.  I have pretty much alienated myself or sabotaged relationships and my own life in pursuit of pretty pink pills that make you focus and stay awake and NOT eat.  BUT, don’t get me wrong, the pills don’t have to be pink--I'm not a colorist.  In fact, I love color-- lots of different colors-- orange, blue, white, light blue, yeller, and frankly, I will ingest just about any pill with or without color in general, and there have been plenty of times I just popped pills without even knowing what the fuck I just ingested. 

The irony, and there are many, is that I can be so dumb and yet I am so smart. 

Drives me nuts. 

I can’t say I have always had an addictive personality because I only know it has been a huge part of my life since about 21.  I'm 39 now and I think that I keep this dark, dirty secret, and feel no one knows the painful struggle within but I highly (no pun intended) doubt that.  SIDE NOTE: most of the time when I am stoned cold sober, people think I am on drugs, and when I am on drugs, people think I am normal.  I have my issues, nothing to be proud nor nothing to judge me too harshly on but it certainly says a lot about people in general--this odd juxtaposition. I could just carry on endlessly at the ridiculous absence of moral and ethical values I see on a daily basis, and I am not sure anyone is even paying attention. 

You See, I pay attention and I see a lot of people hurting and it hurts me that we have lost our way, we have lost our compassion for our neighbor we DONT know.  I observe fewer and fewer people thinking of their own accord, arriving at a decision because they used their own brain to think; I see followers, I see people who don’t want to think and actually prefer to be told what to do and when to use the loo. 

THIS book is not about that though.  

I don’t know yet if this will be a story of a fighter who fights the good fight and cleans up and thinks as straight as possible and WINS! OR if one day it will be one too many ingested and my heart stops beating.  I push that mother fucking line. WHY? Because I am in pain.  I am emotionally saddened by so much that I feel dead; I would at least stop berating myself, as I'd be rendered NOTHING. 

Who would do this to themselves? --it is not nice and if I had a friend I would tell them to be nicer to themselves.   The struggles I see people endure daily, including myself are so heartbreaking that I would give anything to not think and feel so sad about the human condition.  

AND HERE COME STHE EXCUSE

So, I take pills and A LOT of them to numb the pain. And I am really good at getting them (those stories to come) BUT I spend a lot of time thinking about how Tomorrow is the day I am not going to ingest 5-10 pills or more just to make it through my day.  I swear to myself I have the power of self control, the determination to do what I want when I really want to.  I do.  I am good at all of that but I am not exactly proving that at this moment in time.  

I want to stop doing drugs. 

I want to love and be loved.  I do.  The drugs don’t work, they just make it worse.  I know that.  I know that and yet I cannot control myself because I hate my life and myself.

If you met me though, you would feel and see an effervescence unparalled, a fervor for LA VIVRE, oui bien sur, a beautiful woman who LIVES life in the present and that is a rare beast but, underneath that attractive layer is a cesspool of darkness that I have a contract with.

         I acquiesce to narcissism; I am not a foolish narcissist though and I try to put it all in perspective, come down, look within, what are the real reasons I am running or hiding or not facing my problem?  I ask the tough questions and I can hear the tough answers but I don’t fucking know what to say anymore.  I really don’t.  When I first started eating pills, Adderall to be precise, I was in undergrad.  I had heard of Ritalin in High School probably tried it, but that is about it.  I smoked weed, never a big drinker, still to this day, if I ingest anymore than three drinks I will be puking for about eight or nine hours straight to where all I see is bile, a nasty yellow of my insides rejecting, just rejecting this poison, but I cannot stop swallowing pretty pink pills even though I know poison is poison, it doesn't matter which is your poison, the damaging effects or results are the same.  NO bueno. 

Chapter 2: Pretty Town, Pretty Upbringing

My name is Darcy and I had a great upbringing. I went through a divorce, most kids have; it was pretty ugly.  But I was real lucky, my step dad is really my Dad so when I say my Dad I most likely mean him, other wise since my bio dad is Richard, I shall call him Dick.  I am now 38, live in San Diego, and aside from the weather it is boring as fuck. I have lived here for nearly ten years and can count maybe like 3 friends.  I will say that for about 6 of those years I was with my xbestfriend M and her x bf E.  But still, not a quality social life then or now.  I am particular about friends and whom I spend my time with.  I am all about quality not quantity and prefer it that way.  I went to a great high school, smart, wealthy families, very successful people and I suppose I did not know any different and I am lucky for that but it did not necessarily give me a real picture of the rest of the world which does not live like that at all. So, I probably did not know what I had when I did and focused on what I did not have like a spoiled bitch.  Then, I went to a fairly prestigious undergraduate school, a small liberal arts school in PA.  I did well and I liked college.  I would not say I really felt I was somewhat smart until late junior year, after studying abroad which probably had everything to do with that growth.  Thankful for that.  Again, a good life.  Was there anything really wrong?  For most, no.  For me, yes.  Because I pop pills like it is my job.  Good thing I am not a pharm rep, sales would be low. 

         In high school I was popular etc. and my parents are very strict so that was annoying.  I drank; I tried pot in summer going into 8th grade.  It did not do anything for me did not care.  Cannot drink alcohol still to save my life.  My first time drink was with an 8th grade friend.  I was obsessed with a senior (at this point in time our high school included 8th grade) and my parents went out and they barely drink.  So, we had to find like the grossest alcohol probs from 20 years ago.  My first time drunk I had haribo gummy rasp and blackberries with the hard dots on the outside.  I seriously ate some tonight.  Anyway, I ate those and chugged whiskey and chased it with raspberry ginger ale.  Clearly, I knew exactly what I was doing to PUKE.  So, yeah did not take much, we were drunk and I called Art and talked on the phone for a while.  He liked me but I was too young but I really flirted well with him.  Very cute.  Anyway, years later when I was on break from college, we hooked up and it sucked.  Keep most things alive in your dreams for the translation to reality never lives up to your expectations.  I drank in high school but not much.  I hate drinking honestly and I can’t stand the spins, drives me nuts.  I smoked pot maybe, but not a lot was definitely not a stoner.  So, pretty non-addictive personality until college, when I got back from Australia.  I had come into my intelligence then and begin a drug-addicted journey I aim still to keep it a dirty secret.  I cannot keep secrets by the way.  So don’t tell me shit.

I so want to

be able to envision a Danielle that doesnt start immediately 

crying her eyes out when she calls you.  

I am just so sad right now G.  I do it to myself.  That is what is the worst of it all.  
I make things what they are and most of the time I destroy it or myself.  
I know right now there are a few things on my mind and that I do need to cry and let it out 
because it is how I feel and I need to let that live, but it is sad that I am and my life is so pathetic.  
I hate myself and this is why I am so sad.  
Because of my self hatred, I perpetuate it by deliberately seeking things out 
that I know are not going to work out.  
WHY? WHY would I do this?  I dont get it. 
For example, I am so angry of course with my family but specifically my brother.  He told me like years ago when he gets a new car, he will give me the lexus.  He got a new car and of course no one told me about it and all of a sudden there it is, so I called him and was like WTF, we have been so excited for you to get this new car for years, we love cars, how could you not tell me?  And sahweet, I can drive a car that is legal.  And he said, no dude sorry, I am just going to use the ford raptor as a third fun car and use the lexus as my daily driver.  I hung up on him. He texted me a picture and I never responded.  
My sister made dinner reservations for all of us and I didnt go.  
I am angry and I am not angry about the fucking car.  STOP TELLING ME YOU ARE GOING TO DO SOMETHING WHEN YOU DONT.  DONT MAKE A PROMISE AN OATH OR GIVE YOUR WORD TO SOMEONE(and then expect me to deliver you weed at the airport before you fly up to pick up your new car that you didnt tell me about).
He is like my Dad, always making me promises, and never keeping them.  
I am so sick of it and then my FUCKING MOM has the nerve to be 
"well Danielle, we are waiting for you to save money and we will match that, every penny, so that you can get yourself a car".  
WHAT 
THE 
FUCK world is she living in?
I live paycheck to paycheck, saving like 5 g's is gonna take me 5 years 
and you can just fucking help me now when I fucking need it 
but you dont 
and instead you just give me shit for all the things I am not doing.  
FUCK off.

It is no wonder then why I am sitting here in tears.  
I mean I am just so sad and feel alone and unloved.  
And my family says I do this to myself so of course 
I just adopt that and apply it to all aspects of my life and just reduce myself to a fuck up.  
I dont know what to do because frankly, it all sucks.  
There are very few things in my life that match who I am --that match or reflect this giant loving spirit and in fact, I would argue that people try to quell that or they dont know what to do so.....

Work: I cant even say anything about my current or past jobs that have had a large influence on my feelings of utter worthlessness and disappointment.

Friends: 3

Eli: no idea.  He is just not ready to be with me and yet I am there.  I just can comprehend a lot of these things in my life, yet I create them or am a part of all of this and it just is not pretty seeing as I am alone and crying.

I am no genius, but something is amiss.

I suppose I could say I expect too much from people or something like that so I set myself up for disappointment, but really, all I am doing is listening to what someone is telling me and believing them so I am a little confused here.

All of it matters
and yet none of it matters

I cant stand the constant reductive thinking that just begs the question.

I know better.

And yet I do nothing.

I just dont understand and I want it all to be so different

so
so different.

A Letter to the Editor

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Dear San Diego Union Tribune,

You wanna know something?

I like the world I have constructed inside Casa Madison, my little apartment because it has substance and meaning as opposed to when I step outside.  Here is what just happened to me (NOTE: this does not even come close to my daily life at the mill, so you got that going for you, which is nice).

I walked to the liquor store on the corner,

an establishment I visit pretTy much daily...

and I am paying for my provisions

waiting for my change, I take a glance, scan around, give in to that wondering eye of mine and in my direct line of vision is a newspaper stand, also commonly referred to as a newsstand, positioned as such perhaps for economic reasons more so than for informative ones?

Regardless, I feel strongly that a newsstand should carry a paper worth reading, and I think Jerry Seinfeld would agree (and I KNOW my Friend Greg would).  Money.  I get it. Fine, BUT in a situation where the exchange of money takes place, there is also an inherent supposed exchange of value.  The more it costs, the more it is worth; we can only wish that that value is also substantial. The value of the NEWSPAPER HAS a direct correlation to its contents, to the words it contains; thus, having the PRIVILEDGE to INFORM as many people as possible with NEWS, with accurate NEWS, with well crafted words, thorough well thought-out postulations to provoke and generate more thoughts in others, more ideas, in various contexts and discourses...et al.

SO, when "we" see a newsstand, we just assume it is reliable since at the most primitive level, it LITERALLY IS a news stand, and one should be able to rely on that stand holding news---on the words news and stand, as well as the words in the newspaper.

It's like umm the definition of the word, umm, like, you know what I mean?

idk spell check every now and then.

WELL, SDUT, THE STAND IS NOT HOLDING THE NEWS.

And obviously, since the majority of consumers are lacking common sense or an ability to think critically so any basic concern for detail, for content, and accuracy is simply gifted upon those that produce the news.  And the consumers think they are smart and informed because they bought today's paper, which they will never read for entirely different reasons than the contents of this letter.

The Time Has Come.  RIGHT NOW.

It is happening with this letter.

I Must Take Action.

and not because this is the first time I have thought that the SDUT is the worst paper, and also that SD is not the finest city, but more so because of today's headline:

"Shooter Called Unstable" 

(I am sorry but that is fucking ridiculously reprehensible).

I should thank you, SDUT for your awfulness as it has inspired me (I'd rather THAT happen differently but....) to declare a revolt against stupidity. Are we that out of touch to think that a human being who takes the lives of others going on a shooting spree is "normal"? "stable"?

Oh, I get it, most of us just thought...

thought what?

What did you think and do you think?

What did you think inherently, immediately,

instinctively, from one human being to another?

My thoughts Most Definitely did NOT QUESTION

This Individual's stability.

I have to ask, is anyone paying attention?

I have a great idea, how about you call up to your guy who creates the polls and have him propose a question with answers that make sense. And then, maybe you, SDUT, will make some cents of your own.

What Kind of Action do I propose to take as one small individual to revolt against stupidity?  My action involves the basic fundamentals without which none of this shitE would even exist.

WORDS.

Words.

Words.

Words.

Here, let me say it again, WORDS.

Should I spell it too? W-O-R-D-S.

Werd.

We can agree words are one of the ways that we try to communicate as human beings, yes?  Can we also agree then that words can be powerful? Words carry the potential to be powerful--to powerfully inform a lot of people. 

And people look to these newsstands to be informed.

San Diego YouNionTribiune,

time to call the board.  Fire some people.  Revamp.  Overhaul.

JUMP CUT

The best part of this story is that of course

I reacted out loud to such a ridiculous headline, astounded at such idiocy, and remarked to George, (proprietor) "Our Newspaper is the worst, and no wonder everyone is so dumb".

He does not even respond to that---just immediately

lays in on how they are always raising the price. And that it's happening again.

ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?

Your paper SUCKS.

And you should seriously do something serious about it

because people already cant think for themselves

so if we are going to exist in some part in a rhetorical world  

that produces daily news so that the public can be informed, then we ought to do our best to smartly inform.

Well, your information sucks and lacks smarts.

I mean as wordsmiths, you should be ashamed.

As thinkers I say, get laid and smoke weed.

I don’t know, I mean it is unbelievable

and, as a tax paying San Diegan, as a person who likes being a local wherever I go, am disappointed in case that is not clear.

Perhaps you are not asking the difficult questions.

I wish I could say to you, SDUT, to be careful with your choice of words but that implies thinking is taking place, so I guess I say to youniontribune: start thinking, and produce a paper with content worth reading simply because you are true to words, and the meanings they carry.

Profitably yours,

Danielle

All I want

is to write something different
to be someone different
to feel something different
than the heartbreaking, lonely words that have usurped these
pages over the years
rendering me to silence of late.
All I want is to be a part of what rock stars write songs about
like my new fav
All I want by Kodaline
going to see them on Tuesday
ALONE
How HOW HOW can I expect ANYONE to treat me other
than A PIECE OF SHIT
BECAUSE THAT IS HOW I TREAT MYSELF.
I wish I could say I am healthy
and happy and on a better road
but I am not my friends.
In fact, it is worse than ever
and in spite of my tendency and fondness for the dramatic arts
sadly, I am not being dramatic.
I cannot handle daily life
I ingest whatever numbing pills I can get my hands
on just to make it through the mother fucking
day.
WHERE IS THE HUMANITY I ask
I would be worried about someone I loved
who was NOT asking that question.
In fact, I am worried about anyone who is not asking that fucking question right now.
I have 2 friends here
One is moving to Costa Rica in July.
I cannot live this way anymore.
I cannot be involved with a boy who runs
I cannot allow myself to be treated like a side dish.
Baby,
 I
AM
THE
DISH.
Ain't NO mistakin that.
I cannot exist in this mindless
souless transparent world.
I refuse.
I am refuse.
BASURA!
What am I to do?
Fuckin A' write the real version of A million little Pieces, Danielle
Write YOUR story because people would read it
because you are real.
The thing is how can I ask or expect anyone to believe in me when I dont?
And why dont I?
I dont know.
I cant say.
I dont understand why
I pop ills like it is my job
pick holes in my head
live a self imposed solitary confinement
of an existence.
OR DO I?
Because the humans have gone and I would rather shack up
with my movies than those lost souls.
At least I admit my flaws and destructive patterns
and wan tnothing more than to say YES
that MAN over there, teh one I am with
makes my UNbearable life
Bearable.
BUT
I cannot do that on my own.
Or, I just end up a victim
a fool
a character in Tolstoy or Dostoevsky.
Cant.
Cant live by the Russian Metronome.
Too damn Cool Hand Luke.
Too Damn Gary Cooper.
Too Damn John Ford.
Where are my GlenGarry leads?
I had to just say I am done.
And It will be really hard.
But what gives I ask.
They say you cant move expecting to solve your problems
for your problems will travel with you.
I dont know man
I have lived in SOCAL for 15 plus years
and there aint nothin new.
I got to change something.
I cant live like this
or I literally will kill myself.
I do, I do, I want so badly to be dead
and I am SO SORRY to say that UNIverse
but it is true
I am so so sad and lonely
so UNHAPPY with everything
and when I reach out and communicate that
to those that are supposed to rise to the occasion
run to my side support me
comfort my realism
RUN
RUN
RUN
and that IS coming from a runner.
I cant I cant
I cant run away from this shit anymore.
The drugs DONT work
They do JUST make it worse.
I have got to get a grip.
It is so impossible to do so living in my reality
so it makes perfect sense I wan tot be dead.
I cant keep putting myself out there
to constantly get rejected
It is only a matter of time before I lose this job
because it happens to everyone
NOT BECAUSE I AM NOT BEING POSITIVE ABOUT LIFE
YOU ASSHOLES
BUT RATHER BECAUSE YOU CANT DEAL WITH
THE HEARTACHE THAT IS LIFE ALL THE TIME EVERY DAY.
Well, neither can I
BUT I am not phony about it.
All I want is to love and be loved
for that is the only thing that makes any fucking sense
at all
any fucking sense.
And yet
NADA
ZILCH
ZERO
friends dissipate faster than
a shit flushes down a toilet
so you can only imagine how that translates romantically.
Uh huh.
I know
Absolutely devastatingly pathetic.
I just cant do this anymore.
I really cant
and I have no solutions either.
none.
I am at a total utter loss
and if you asked me a question
you would see that
you would feel that
passion
as the tears stream effortlessly down my face
as I with all my effort try and hold them back.
I cant anymore.
I am dying.
And dying to die.
And that is no way to live.

Winter Wonderment (for My Mom)

Winter Wonderment

Each year in the land of freedom Holiday Time

starts earlier and earlier.

I winter wonder about that.

Our focus should be on living each and every day in the moment, appreciating the simple and meaningful parts of the everyday.

Being PRESENT gets lost for some on buying PRESENTS.

Presently, for me, Winter Wonderment is amidst palm trees and sandy beaches, which seems not like winter at all.

As I child I fondly recall plenty of snow-play and wishing for snow days so school would close but that rarely happened.

I tried so hard with each snowfall to capture whether or not each snowflake was truly unique as I was told.

I always carried a sensibility of winter wonderment in a variety of ways.

I would say in my early years I had winter wonderment with a heavy dash of trepidation as I desperately wanted to sit on Santa's lap, making my Mom wait in cold lines each year only to flee once it was my turn.

So, I guess I had my winter wonderdoubts too.

I needed to see Santa

Seemed to me an awful lot of territory to cover for one dressed up man

especially since I saw lots of Santas

Although ubiquitous was not yet part of my vocabulary

I was skeptical of such omniscience

So, I put out the cookies and waited by the fireplace with determination to pursue the truth of my winter wonderment--is Santa real?

And each year, I fell asleep

but awoke to a plethora of presents and cookie crumbs

Winter wonderment continued for quite some time as I continued pursuing my quests of Santa's lap and waiting up

that is

until my brother straight up told me Mom and Dad are Santa and the presents are in the basement.

Of course, seeing as I am a truth seeker, I looked for the presents

delighted and satiated that I now knew I was right Santa could not be at Short Hills mall, Rockaway, and Morristown all at the same time.

But still my wonderment did not disappear then nor has it today

...quite some years later.

I think it grows and continues to grow in both positive and realistic ways

I shall name it winter wisdomwonderment at this point in my life.

As the trajectory of growing up goes, in youth, I believed without a doubt, then slowly, doubts began to surface in my inquisitive mind, then knowledge was obtained, and I discovered perhaps if it is not in me to believe in myth or folklore

It is in me to believe in the spirit of winter wonderment and to embrace it.

and that is believing in it with a different sensibility than that of my childhood,

yet holding on to such molding memories keeps the beauty of wonder alive.

Christmas time was significant because my family instilled meaning and values of love, generosity, surprise, festivity, and the warmth of being together.

A communal time celebrating what is truly important during this time of year--eating delicious dishes

together, creating warm and loving mise-en-scene, spending time together, and of course, watching A Christmas Story 24 hours in a row at my command.

True, these present days I live quiet and alone

allowing for the winter wonderment to grow in new ways

that I might never have had the chance to experience had I sat on Santa's lap

or had I not embraced my inquisitive nature without losing my effervescent spirit and fervor for winter wonderment.

I choose to deflect feelings of missing out or focusing on those "things" I do not have and instead I keep my festive nature

in reflection

in quiet walks

looking in the windows at other families spirits and celebrations and smile

I do love being festive and fun with loved ones and do hope to have that one day but for now I am quiet

and engrossed in my own winter wonderment.

Since, I am of the belief that Birthdays are the only true holidays, perhaps it is easier for me to fight the holiday blues so many succumb to.

I fight it because I am a fighter.

I know I am not alone in this world of winter wonderment.

I know many feel alone and disconnected

but even though I am physically alone

there are people around the world that do care about me

and that are in their own winter wonderment too.

I will relish this quiet time of winter wonderment.

It is too easy to feel sad bad and alone

and I will fight that

and reintegrate myself back into this world

and try to embrace the beauty of being different

as I wonder this winter

The truth I carry within my soul and heart is that LOVE is the only thing that matters and this is the time of year to focus on what is truly important: LOVE.

Many kinds of LOVE, too.

FAMILY LOVE

FRIENDSHIP LOVE

ROMANTIC LOVE

LOVE OF LIFE
EARTHLY LOVE

PET LOVE

FESTIVE LOVE

PEACEFUL LOVE

LOVE OF GIFT GIVING

LOVE OF QUIET TIME

LOVE works

LOVE makes the unbearable bearable

LOVE helps during times of struggle--

LOVE keeps you going when you want to give up

LOVE keeps faith, and hope alive because
maybe tomorrow will be better.

And lastly, I thank my family for their care package love

I dont know what I would do without that wonder of when it will arrive and then the smile on my face seeing the mail come

the rip-roaring enthusiasm I have to get that damn overly taped package open

changes any feelings of loneliness to a reminder that I am loved and that I would never want my liveliness and zest for life to diminish.

Thinking of you all.

with Winter Wonderment LOVE, of course.

Happy Birthday to ME and....

Here are a few amazing people I share a birthday with...
Mark Twain
Jonathan Swift
Winston Churchill
Billy Idol
David Mamet
Terrence Malick
Ryan Murphy
Dick Clark
Bo Jackson
Abbie Hoffman
Mandy PatinkinGael Garcia Bernal
Ridley Scott(eh)
Ben Stiller(eh)

XOXO

ABC--you GOOOHHH!

Sea Wolf "Writer of the Week" at American Songwriter Magazine