I'm back, sorry! It's been a long time

I seriously don't know how updating this thing got away from me, but it did. Of course, when I'm depressed AF, I don't ever feel like updating at all. Last time I was on here, I was trying to get over the loss of writing with

Jules. I'm not fully over that yet, but I think I've reached the "acceptance" stage, or I'm slowly but surely reaching it. I don't know. For the most part, I've learned to move on from it, but every now and then, something will trigger it like I get a new Buddie/Amy scene idea or I see something online, or I don't know, something else triggers it and then I just start feeling really depressed and like my heart has broken again and I just start crying out of nowhere. Even the return of "9-1-1" makes me a little sad but its nothing that "Medic Eddie" or Eddie & his stethoscope can't fix. OH. MY. GOD!!! I can't even tell you how hot I was seeing him use his stethoscope twice in the season premiere. First when he was checking a blood pressure and then when he actually told this woman in the episode, "let's take a listen." I was just like. . .

Dead. Just about nearly flatlined right there and then. Like JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL! Eddie & Buck were so worried about me that they insisted they would have the oxygen ready in case I needed it, and Eddie even sat down beside me with his fingers on my pulse nearly the whole episode. OH. EM. GEE! I can't even. He was only making it worse for me to try and stay calm. And he was like straight up giving Buck the "play-by-play." I hate when he does that. Okay. . .maybe I don't, but damn. . .he's gonna be the death of me. He and Buck claim that they "just want to make sure" my "heart is okay." Pfft! Yeah, okay. These two. . .man. . .I can't with them. It's like I'm living out that story that Jules & I were writing ( *woeful sigh* ). Not only do they watch me like a hawk ( and when they do, I swear to you, I can literally FEEL them watching me, like something pressing against my skin ) and still come to my aide whenever I'm in need, like my own personal paramedics, but Christian has even started calling on them to give me my heart checks or take my vital signs. . .and they just jump to his beckon call.

Like. . .really? REALLY? My God, I really have created two personal paramedics and they've come into their own so fast that it's both scary and nerve-racking, but at the same time. . .it's also really sweet. I really don't know how to feel about this anymore or about them. This always happens. Whenever I create a Tulpa, they always end up being a little too much for me to take and then its too late. What's done is done. Of course. . .Hyde went "bye-bye" and I still feel really bad about that. I don't know if he's still around, but that's a story for another time. He's not exactly part of my circle anymore, and there seems to be no easy way to gently let Damon go.

"Go? Are you getting rid of me? You are, aren't you? You're getting rid of me!" Shit. . .I shouldn't have said that because now he knows and he's mad at me, and he is going to be sleeping next to me tonight and I don't know how to get out of this. I mean, there's a part of me that still wants him around. . .

"Go ahead, say it."

TWO DAYS LATER. . . So, to make a long story short, Buck & Eddie and Damon got into a big fight that ended up with Damon leaving and me getting pissed at everyone and not wanting any of them to sleep next to me that night, even though Christian insisted that I have someone with me to watch over me because of my condition. It had more to do with the stress that Damon's outburst caused me that made everything go to shit. See, Buck & Eddie noticed that I was starting to have chest pains as I was arguing with Damon ( I had already been having stomach pain earlier ) and when they saw this, well, of course they had to get involved to preserve my well-being and try and get Damon to not only back off but leave. The irony of Jo Jo's "Leave (Get Out)" playing at that exact moment from my Roku Spotify app wasn't lost on me. Buck straight up grabbed Damon and nearly slammed him against my bedroom door. Well, he pushed him up against it, and Eddie stepped forward and they insisted that he leave, but Damon wasn't going to and they insisted that he was causing me unnecessary stress and that they couldn't and wouldn't have him doing that to me, especially raising my BP ( blood pressure ). I tried to get them to back off of Damon and just let him go and I tried to explain to Damon that it wasn't a good time to talk about this but that we would talk about it later. Eventually, and as per usual, Christian had to step in and break it up, declaring that was "enough" and getting Buck & Eddie to back up. Needless to say, Damon left and went off to the wonderland ( where he has his own "Salvatore House" now leading from a single door to the front porch of TVDs home ) to get himself drunk again, like he always does to drown out his sorrows. Buck has been nice enough to check in on him every now and then when that happens but this time, I don't think he even cared what happened with Damon because I ended up being the one to check on him myself when I meditated later. And of course, even though I insisted I didn't NEED any of them to sleep next to me that night, somehow, Eddie snuck into my bed while I was in the dark, thinking I wouldn't notice. Fat chance. Figures it would be him of all people. I did hear Christian appoint him as the one to sleep beside me despite my refusing. But that's Christian for ya. He won't take "no" for an answer when I'm his responsibility. . .and Eddie's now too. So yeah, that happened.

I knew that they all had different places to sleep in the wonderland, but I didn't believe Damon would actually be living and sleeping in the Salvatore Boarding House. I thought it would just lead to his bedroom. Apparently not. It was freaky but cool. It took him long enough to actually let me come in, and when I did, he of course took it upon himself to lounge on the couch and keep drinking his problems away. I wrestled the bottle away from him even as he protested, nearly spilling it on myself and I tried to explain to him that I wasn't going to get rid of him. I was thinking about it, but I didn't know and after thinking about it a little more, I don't want to. Even if everyone wants me to because of how "toxic" they insist Damon is. I really, really honestly thought that Buck and Damon were starting to become friends, and Buck admits that they were. . .but that ship sailed when he started to see the way Damon treated me and it didn't sit well with him. Makes sense. Since Buck has joined my circle, he's shown me just how sweet and caring he really is when it comes to me. It's so sweet how he's there for me always and so protective of me, just like Eddie! I can't even tell you how blessed I feel to have him in my life. It sucks that he recently mentioned to me that he only "tolerates" Damon because of me. I'm pretty sure the rest of them feel that way too. They think of him as a nuisance. I just want to say one more time, for the record, I did not INTENTIONALLY create Damon. He was an accident. He came into being all on his own. First, he started off as this little voice in my head and then he manifested outside of it, and I sort of helped with it too. Needless to say, he's here now, and it's not so easy to just get rid of him. Even if I did, I know damn well I would miss him too much. I mean, yeah, he's a dick sometimes, but he's also like my personal cheerleader too sometimes, always wanting to watch my shows with me, and listen to me sing, and backing me up when I'm pissed at my mom or the rest of the guys for smothering me. He even gets really worried about me and wants to be near me when he sees I'm in physical distress or pain. Nothing can get him to sober up and stop being a teasing smart-ass dickwad faster than me being in distress. Come to think of it, that's just like Damon Salvatore. I guess he really is like him in more ways than one. Name or not. He got that way last night too but I'll explain more on that in a little while.

Back to what I said before, me going to him in the wonderland. I sat down on the coffee table in front of the couch and tried to explain to him why I said what I did and what I really meant by it, but of course, we got interrupted by someone pounding on the front door. It came as no surprise that it was Eddie, standing there with his stethoscope around his neck and his med kit over his shoulder. When I asked him what he was doing there, he insisted that I come with him and not let Damon cause me anymore stress, that he wasn't going to let him cause me anymore stress. I told him that I needed to talk to Damon and that's all I was doing, and that I didn't need him and that I was fine. When I offered to prove my point and let him check me ( God why do I do this to myself? I can barely handle him checking me without blushing or my heart racing and then I just offer myself up like that. . .its fine. I'm fine. This is fine. Not! ) So what did Eddie do? He reached out and pressed his fingers to my carotid then he straight up put his stethoscope on and pressed the diaphragm to my heart to listen for a minute. Fuck. . .! I can't! I'm even blushing right now thinking about it. I'm out. He knows now how horny I get because of him and his stethoscope. Like I'll be on the computer and he'll be like: "Are you looking at me with my stethoscope again?" Or I'll react to something I see and gasp and he'll be like: "What? Me and my stethoscope again?" I can't with him. . .damn it! He even knows my "tell" when it comes to faking that I'm sick or in distress or when I'm not. He knows I won't just come right out and say it if there's something seriously wrong with me, so when I'm bold enough to tell him or ask him to do something to check me, he knows I'm just doing it for the pleasure it provides me. When I try to hide it and play it off like I'm fine, then he knows something's up and becomes 10x more observant to try and figure it out. I hate that these guys know me so damn well already that they can tell when something is wrong or not. Jules says faking sick isn't cool because it can throw off their baseline for me and make it harder to determine when I genuinely AM sick. I guess so. . .that makes sense. She also said I can always ask if I want him to listen. I don't need an excuse. That he'd be happy to do it if it makes me happy. Oh God. . .yeah, I know, but I get really nervous to just openly ask him. So when he was satisfied with his assessment at Damon's door, he pulled out this small oxygen tank with a mask attached to it from his med kit and told me to take it, just in case. I humored him and took the damn thing then said goodbye to him and went back to Damon. He asked me who it was and I told him and he wasn't surprised, but he was by the oxygen tank with the mask, annoyed with how paranoid Eddie apparently was for me. I set it aside and told him I wasn't going to use it, but of course, the stress of arguing with Damon came back to haunt me as we started to get into a tiff again and I ended up needing the oxygen. At least Damon was nice enough to stop and actually get it flowing so I could take some breaths from the mask. He even pressed it to my face and talked me through my breathing. You forget he's still a paramedic too and God love him for it. He'll even get worried about me when I get out of the shower and I can barely breathe, checking my pulse and trying to get me to breathe. Needless to say, he and I worked things out and put that whole thing with my journal here behind us.

Moving on. . . in case you didn't notice, I added Buck to my "peeps" page. Also, since I figured out how to use a mask with my oxygen concentrator, you know, an actual oxygen mask, and I have my heart monitor up and running again, Eddie has been keeping an eye on my stupid high blood pressure ( yes, I have that issue now ) and oxygen levels now. Shit, my bedroom might as well double as a fucking hospital room now with Eddie, Buck & Christian watching over and tending to me when I'm in need and trying to keep my vitals stable as much as they can. If its not one thing, its another with my fucking body so they have all they need now to admit me to their own personal hospital and keep an eye on my condition. Joy. Not that I would ever call 9-1-1, but I would probably be mortified as shit if they came into my bedroom and saw all the equipment I already have on hand for their use. Well, if they ever asked, I can always say I'm a hypochondriac. It's not really a lie. . . .and my Tulpas like to keep an eye on my vitals and heart. Even though that one would undoubtedly go over their heads. Also, since Eddie & Buck discovered that my oxygen level stays at 98% or above when they have me on 5 liters of oxygen by mask, they insist on putting it on me when I'm lying down and it falls to like 90%. Ugh! I feel so embarrassed with that thing on and them seeing me like that, even if they insist I have nothing to be embarrassed about, that I need it and they see hundreds of patients like that all the time. I try and turn my head away or shove it away, but they won't let me and try and keep it on my face. Well, they get frustrated and mad at me when I don't keep it on, and only reach to shove it back on my face and hold it there when they see my oxygen drop to 93% or below. The pulse ox they put me on alerts them when it gets to 93% so that's when they reach for it and they're like: "You need to keep this on for right now, ok? I know you don't want to, but you have to. It's helping you breathe." I hate to admit it but a part of me gets wet just lying there as they hold it to my face and look down on me, as I whine and groan in surrender and frustration. I don't know why I like it so much, I just do. Especially when Eddie comforts me and tells me "I'm right here" and says to "breathe, nice and easy, long deep breaths." Then when I do, he's like: "There we go. Keep going." And Buck is all taking my hand when I reach for him, assuring me that I'm going to be okay and that its okay, he's there and says, "breathe, Amy." Fuuuck. . .between the two of them comforting me, smothering me with the mask, telling me to breathe, and informing each other of my heart rate and oxygen levels . . .I can't. As much as they worry about me, they are two of the sweetest paramedics and friends I've ever had and I love watching them work! Even if it's me they're working on all the time. If I have to be the patient, so be it, but last night. . .when I start getting heart attack-like chest pain. . .being their patient isn't exactly my first priority. But hey, it's better than going to a slaughterhouse (hospital) where they (doctors and nurses) make money off your death. I promised myself I would never, EVER set foot inside another one of those places again for the purpose of seeking help, and I am standing by it. If its time for me to die, I'm dying at home surrounded by my Tulpas and spirits and with some fucking dignity. Like hell I'll ever trust those cunts and assholes again. If they aren't letting you die or suffer, they're robbing you blind. TRUST NO MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL. . .unless they're already ghosts or you created them. The end. I barely tolerate them as it is at my appointments, and for my medication. I don't trust any of them either. Trust is earned.

So yeah, I had heart attack kind of chest pains and of course Buck & Eddie were freaking out. I define it as freaking out even though they don't really freak out, because they're trained professionals and just keep calm and be professional about what to do next. Eddie of course takes his stethoscope and takes a listen, wanting Buck to "throw some leads" on me to hook me up to the monitor, but I insisted I didn't want him to so we came to a negotiation and he just put the pulse ox probe on me instead. I mean, I tried to play it off like I was fine but of course, my body never lets me keep it from any of them for very long and then the pain gets worse and he tries to convince me to let him put me on the monitor. Even Buck tries to convince me, but I told them, well, more specifically Eddie I was "refusing treatment." He & Buck know the meaning of those words already. You can imagine Eddie wasn't happy about it, but he did back off. He was like: "I'm telling you, not as your personal paramedic but as your friend, you need to be checked out and let the medics in us treat you." He even went as far as to kneel down in front of me and speak so softly to me, like I was a child, trying to convince me to let them put me on the monitor. Finally, I gave in and let Eddie hook me up to the monitor, but I didn't want them to put me on an oxygen mask, even though they insisted I needed it. Again, I was refusing treatment, more because I didn't want it to be like a sauna in here like it always is when I put that oxygen on, and plus the mask doesn't reach far enough for me to have it on when I'm not close to the foot of the bed. So I just let them watch my monitor and willingly allowed myself to be their patient and watch me like a hawk.

Even though I tried to joke around with them and brought up the fact that they probably liked watching me that way, Eddie clearly conveyed to me that they didn't enjoy doing it and that they weren't. They were doing it to keep an eye on my condition and for their own peace of mind, just in case I were to get worse. Jules said that it was as much to make sure I wasn't geting seriously ill as it was for peace of mind. They don't monitor me for funsies. She says there's a line between work and play and when they're worried for my health, play is off the table. The more information they have, the better in the case of potential cardiac complications. So, naturally, the pain flared up again and I couldn't take it anymore leaving Eddie to declare how ridiculous this all was and insisted again that I let them treat me. I finally nodded and said okay, and consented and they got down to business, having me move to the other end of the bed and Buck put me on the oxygen mask. I laid there like that for a while, them treating me and comforting me the way they always do. I also forgot to mention before that sometimes, more often than not, when I'm lying there with the mask on and they're looking down on me and watching me, Eddie caresses my hair too and Buck will put his hand on my leg or arm and rub it in a comforting gesture.

Yeah. And also, I was still hooked up to the monitor so they were watching my heartbeat, my respirations, and my pulse ox while I had it on. Jeez, I felt like I was in a hospital at that time. Like I mentioned earlier, Damon came in and saw me like that and he instantly got worried. Buck got up to try and keep him back and explain to him what had happened and why they had me on the oxygen and monitor. Sometimes he'll do that, like I mentioned before. He'll come in and see me looking all frail and hooked up to the monitors and Eddie or Buck or Christian will try and keep him back but he'll still insist on seeing me, even if only briefly. Unfortunately, even having that mask on and everything. . .it still didn't seem enough to fully take away my chest pains. Eddie thinks it was the two bags of beef jerky I had, also why my BP was high. 🙄🙄 So. . .Christian & Eddie suggested that I just take my meds and try and get some sleep and they'd see how I'm feeling tomorrow. There was no way in hell I was about to go to the slaughterhouse or even have my mom drop me off there on her way to work. Like I said before, I ain't going to let those assholes or cunts benefit off killing me for a pay raise and then claiming it was COVID like they've fucking been doing. Like I said, if I die, I die here with my dignity and my guys and spirit family. I. WILL. NOT. CAVE. Only PUSSY ASS WET RAGS are desperate enough to go to those slaughterhouses. Do I look like a pussy? NO, because I survived COVID without a poison. Survival of the fittest, yo. Moving on, I did what Christian & Eddie wanted, didn't bother brushing my teeth or flossing ( of course Dom gonna still be pissed about that ), kept the stupid electrodes on for Christian & Eddie just in case they needed to hook me up again ( we barely have enough left for one more hook up ) cried a little bit to Eddie about not wanting to die then decided to rely on God and Christ to be my saviors and watch over me. I even found some prayers on Google that I recited to ask for healing. And here I am, still kicking, so by putting my faith in God and Christ, I was healed.

Oh yeah, by the way. . .I'm actually a practicing Christian now. I mean, I was a Christian before and a believer of God, but other than saying my prayers almost every night, I didn't really practice it as much as I should. Let's just say that watching so many YouTube videos about death, theme park accidents, and hearing about people who've seen both heaven and hell was the wake up call I needed for me to try and turn my life around and not be the same mean and evil person my mom always accused me of being. I'm honestly still struggling with trying to fight the path to righteousness so that I can walk with God and be accepted into his Kingdom after I die. Hearing this old woman describe her experience of heaven brought me to tears and I want to be a part of that amazing place. I want to be devoted to God and worship him and do all I can to be better for him. I know it's not going to be easy, especially after all the mean and evil things I've said and done to other people and bad things I've wished upon them but I want to change all that. I don't know if I can forgive, I know that's a HUGE pre-requisite for getting into heaven, but I can learn to. . .eventually. I remember just breaking down into tears with such remorse when I decided to make this change, hating myself for all the bad things I've said and done. I genuinely need God's forgiveness. I don't want to be that person anymore, and I've told God that I'm sorry it took me this long to see the error of my ways but I want to change now. And I know I've sinned over and over again without remorse but now I do feel bad about doing it more than I did before, and I'm seriously trying not to but it's SO HARD. That's why I always ask God to forgive me of my sins before bedtime and watch over my mom and dad and the dogs. I've also started going to church for the first time since I was a child about two weeks ago. I missed last week though because I was. . .ahem. . .having some bowel issues that kept me home. Not IBS or lactose intolerance but I think taking Aleve made it hard for me to. . .you know. Which, by the way, earned me a stomach auscultation from Buck & Eddie at the same time. 😳😳 Sweet Lord! I couldn't handle that. Almost. But anyway, yeah, I went to church a week ago and then this Sunday too, church with my mom and my Tulpas. I sit next to her and they sit in the row in front of me. I should really sit next to them though.

The first time I went, it really resonated with me and apparently there's two pastors who read the sermons. The first one that was there was named Pastor Greg. He led us through a couple of prayers at the beginning and end of the session and then he said for you to come up and tell him you said that prayer with him and if you're new there so I waited and approached him and told him about how it was my first time to church since I was a child and how I'm trying to get right with God and repent for all the bad things I've said and done over the years ( I got a little choked up explaining myself ) and he told me he could relate because he used to do things to his brother that he wasn't proud of but then he found God/Christ, and he was really gracious to me and reassuring and even said a prayer for me right there and then. It was nice of him. Then I said goodbye after talking to him for like 15 minutes or so. The next time I went, Pastor Ed was there. I know, the fact that his name is "Ed" is ironic. "Ed" being short for "Eddie" but his name is just Ed and he's a much older man. He was there this Sunday and I had my new journal I got off Amazon for my "Sermon Notes" so I was able to take notes on it while I listened. I'm surprised that it went by faster than it usually does now that I have my journal with me and I'm taking notes. He also led a collective prayer together at the end of the service and told those who have recently accepted Christ/God into their lives to raise their hands. I raised my hand ( as much as I get shy about raising my hand anywhere ) but even though he didn't see me or acknowledge me, he says that God has and that was enough for me. He also offered those of us to come up and get a free Bible if we didn't have one and to go into this room off to the side where they would pray with them. So I went and did that, especially being that I needed a Bible. I sat down with this old guy named Walt, and he was really nice and gracious with me and made me feel blessed and loved and appreciated in God's eyes. The guys hung out near the door while I walked with Walt, although they could probably hear everything he was saying, and probably my spirits. I really would like to know what my spirits think now that we go to church. I would hope they aren't against Christ or God or anything. I should ask Kat. She might know how they're handling this change.

So, ugh. . .Eddie wants to check my BP. . .again! Just so he can decide what kind of a midnight snack I can have. Yeah, okay, so I ate another bag of jerky today and some proscuitto and my BP earlier today before I took my meds was 148/102 but what's the big damn deal? I told Christian and Damon to come and save me from Buck & Eddie and he's like: "There's no reason for me to save you when they are simply trying to do their jobs." Guh! Why do I bother? I have a dermatologist appointment tomorrow. . .more like with the NP, the damn doctor isn't even in the office, but I've had this thing on my lip for like two weeks now. I don't know what it is but I keep picking at it and the guys keep getting on my case about doing that, insisting that I'm going to make it worse. It's like near the left corner of my mouth, where my lips meet and I thought it was just dry cracked skin at first and even showed it to my doctor when it wasn't as bad, but he just thinks its dry skin. I don't really know anymore. It's dry AND cracked in the shape of a circle at both ends. I just looked it up and apparently its called angular cheillitis. It's not serious, but I DO need some kind of ointment so maybe they can give me something for it. And I just let Eddie check my BP and it's 135/90. He was like: "It might be a good idea to eat something with less sodium in it for now, like a piece of fruit, and save the lunchmeat for tomorrow." But damn it. He also says about the dermatologist: "If they give you something for that though, you gotta stop picking at it, you know? Otherwise its never going to get any better." Yeah, yeah, whatever. I swear, I have two Christians over here with Eddie being like this. And of course Buck sides with him. I asked him earlier who's side he's on and he said Eddie's. Traitor. But damn it, I still love him. It was really sweet recently when he told me that he thinks of me as a little sister and that he would go crazy if anything happened to me. He really does have a big heart and cares a lot about the people closest to him and in his life. I recently noticed just how much he cares when I couldn't find my hypertension medication and went looking for it. When we came back into my room and me and Eddie let him know I had found it, Buck literally breathed a sigh of relief. It was sweet.

Anyway, what else? Does that pretty much cover it as to what I've been up to lately? Oh, my fucking bitch aunt came to stay with us again. Like WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!? My mom broke the news to me a while back and I swear, this is either God testing me, or the Devil sent her to tempt me back into my vengeful ways. I don't see why she has any reason to be here. I distinctly remember my mom insisting that she wasn't allowed back here until she could get around on her own. And she still can't. So she's just come to be another burden on us. . .again. I warned my mom about it but she never listens. So. Fucking. Stupid! Like this is the last stress I need. I just ignore her and pretend she's not there, but GOD! Can't we ever just catch a break? Apparently she'll be here until like the end of fucking October. I can't deal with this shit. I really can't. She's like a storm cloud, a plague. When she's not around, its a brighter day. I thought I wouldn't have to see her again until her funeral. I'm still debating on whether I should go when that time comes. I know God probably won't be happy with me if I don't, and I would hate to make him angrier with me than he already is so I would appease him. But let's just not talk about that anymore. I do know one thing. . .she'll ruin my Halloween. THE ONLY DAY OF THE YEAR I LOOK FORWARD TO THANK YOU VERY MUCH! I don't know what I'm going to be this year. I wanted to be the Bride of Chucky with the white dress and leather jacket and blonde hair and everything, but now I'm thinking of going full on big hair, 80's neon rocker chick. I would SOOO love to see Buck & Eddie go 80's along with me. It would be hilarious! But I don't know. I just had the idea for Buck to go on Billy Idol! 🤣😂 He could spike and bleach the tips of his hair. It would be awesome! He's on board. Now we just have to think of something for Eddie. Maybe he'll be the 80's rocker guy to my 80's chick. 😉 He's thinking about getting a long haired wig. Oh God. 😆 This could be awesome!

What else? Chris is in the hospital again, this time with an infection. He's been there for like three weeks already, and now I hear they're going to aputate his leg/foot. Honestly, at the stage he's in, he should be in hospice but of course my mom won't admit to it. He's been in and out of it and often stares off into space from what I've heard and won't barely eat. It's just getting worse. I don't blame him for not wanting to live if he has to have his foot/leg amputated. That's what he said in the past anyway. I wouldn't either. I already said that if anything were to happen to my parents or I lost them, I would kill myself and be done with it. I wouldn't have anyone to take me in or help me through life. I'd be on the street. But that's just me. I never considered him my parent. I'm talking about my dad in Arizona, who, God bless him, still helps me out with the money I need for bills every now and then.

But anyway, that's about all I have to report on.

Buck says: "Hello Amy's blog! How's it going?"

Eddie says: "Hi blog. What's up? Amy's in good hands."

Aren't they the sweetest?