Category Archives: Broken Head

Aug 04 2014
3 Comments
Broken Head, Completely retarded families, Emotions, Everyone needs a blowup Doll!, GIVE ME AN STD!, I NEED A PROSTATE, I NEED AN STD!, If you stole my phone.., My gift to you, My sadness is no weakness., My teapot kicks your teapot in the ass., Over emotional, Randumb, Support group needed, We need a mail order slut, Yo.

You better watch it, or she’ll deck you.

(For the record, I haven’t actually decked anyone in a long time. I think.)

 

Do you remember the Humpy-the-Post-office-Guy? (if not, click here)  Wellllll……I went into the post office the other day. (HAHHAH.) It’s too bad there was only a few people in there. So I get up to the counter, and the Teller points at me and says something to the other tellers that I didn’t catch.  (I by the way, had forgotten about Humpy, momentarily) All the tellers get this HUGE smile on their faces and BURST into laughter. One of them yells “You better not stand too close, or she’ll deck you.” This went right over my head:

Me -Huh?

Teller – You don’t remember that?

Me –Threatening to deck someone? No. 

Teller – That guy the other day. 

Me –OH. That guy. Yeah. He was humping my leg. 

 

By this time one of the Tellers disappeared and reappeared with the Post Master who was laughing so hard I thought he was going to split.his.pants. 

 

PM –You know you were the talk of the whole office. 

Me –Oh?

PM -Yeah! But, really that guy is hard of hearing.

Me –Um, ok, but he was standing so close to me I could feel his gender. 

PM & Tellers – OHHHHHHHH we didn’t know that. 

Me –Uh, yeah, and I had moved away several times, even offered for him to cut me in line, yet he continued. 

PM – OH we had no idea. 

Me –  Yeah, and I am pretty sure him leaning in to whisper in my ear, so close that he is touching me, has nothing to do with his deafness. 

PM & Tellers – OH! (weird silence)

Me – Yeah. Anyway, I’ll see you guys soon, and we will see who else I can yell at!

The entire post office erupts in laughter. 

 

BTW – a woman in line butted in to say how she would have kicked his ass. UM, NO. We don’t beat on the elderly. We reprimand them. Stupid chick.

Hell, when I’m that old, I will be copping a feel. I just hope I will still have the ability to acknowledge a hint at that age.

 

Photo dump time!

Theses are from the other day. I went for a really long walk.

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Have I mentioned I like abandoned buildings ?

 

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Catriona

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Jul 30 2014
10 Comments
Broken Head, Emotions, Everyone needs a blowup Doll!, GIVE ME AN STD!, I NEED A PROSTATE, I NEED AN STD!, I never cry, If you stole my phone.., My sadness is no weakness., My teapot kicks your teapot in the ass., Over emotional, Randumb, Support group needed, We need a mail order slut, Yo.

STOP HUMPING MY FRIGGEN LEG.

So, while in the Post Office, standing in line with about 15 people in front on me, I feel and hear a whisper in my ear “you need to move forward”.  Now this guy was so close to me, he was just about touching my neck. I moved forward, said something about him not having to be so close to me, and continued filling out my label. Not even 30 second later he was right up against me again. Soooo, again, I moved a bit forward trying not to crowd the woman in front of me. Annnnnd again he moved so close to me  that he could have been humping my leg if he twitched even in the slightest way. So, I am sure we all know what I did next.  I causes a ruckus. I’m damn good at causing a scene.

I yelled something about him “humping my Fucking leg” and “I’ve moved three times because of it, you do NOT need to be that close to me!”

Small USPS store means the whole office, patrons, and all the tellers heard.  The guy put both of his hands on the counter as if he was used to being made to account for his hands, and said not a word more.

I went to the next teller, and as always asked how his grandbabies were while everyone stared are the freak behind me. Snarl.

UGH.

 

Anyway. I have a photo dump for you all. These are from the last few days.

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One of the loves in my life.

Walking around the last few days to clear my head.

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Also, while in the store I found some Spotted Dick – I’m VERY familiar with that. But, what the hell is Treacle (in a can)? And, is it just me, or does it look wayyyyy worse next to the Spotted Dick?

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On my way home yesterday this was on the sidewalk of a construction site:

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Hope you are all well.

XOXOXO

Catriona

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Jul 02 2014
15 Comments
Because it's illegal to set people on fire, Broken Head, Completely retarded families, Crap I don't want to talk about, Emotions, Everyone needs a blowup Doll!, GIVE ME AN STD!, I NEED AN STD!, If you stole my phone.., My gift to you, My sadness is no weakness., My teapot kicks your teapot in the ass., Warning: was made in a facility that uses clowns, We need a mail order slut, Yo., You thought I was kidding.

Who do I have to sleep with…. (NSFW).. and um, Clown. I think.

to get some damn Horseradish Cheese?! Seriously.

I am serious, who?

I have no idea what I’m going to write about, and yet I can already tell I am going to need to add a NSFW disclaimer. Although.. I am SURE if you have been paying any amount of attention – that probably should go without saying. Haha. But, just in case we have any newbies ..let me just slap that up there..alright annnnnd we are good.

It seems I’ve been coming to write here less and less. I should knock that off.  So MANY things have happen in the last 6 months. Terribly bad things, and some incredibly enjoyable (and then some). So I think we should play “Catriona Catch up”, which for the record, is waaaaay different than “Catriona Ketchup”. That’s just a friendly FYI if you didn’t already know.

Alright, on with the Recap of how fucked Catriona’s life is! Hahahah.  It’s not going to be very detailed, for the most part. I just feel we should all be on the same page here. lol.

So if you have been following me, and there are a lot of you that do (I see you), you know the month of February was life altering annnnnnnd I lost my face. And my head, and some other things I really need. My son’s other parent went into the ICU at the same time as one of my closest friends. Both were close to death.  (Oh and my sister committed the ultimate betrayal.)

Then the months kind of blend together. Hell lived in my house, and my heart.

My friend went from losing a leg, to having two heart attacks, and several other potentially life ending situations, to a nursing home. It continues to be a “Fresh Hell” rollercoaster every day for him (and those who love him).

In April, April? Yeah April, no. Maybe May? I have no idea. Anyway, one of those months brought my mother the gift of Cancer, again.  I was still on my face from February.   

I dropped some weight. Lost my boobs. If anyone locates them, please return to the address labeled.

Also in June -I traveled to see my mother. She is dying. We’ve become closer than ever. She’s a mess, but we are dealing with it.

What else, what else…oh yeah…

OH, I threw my son a Minion party. It was a blast.

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I wrapped water bottles in duct tape and made, sigh, twinkie (gack) minions. hahha. It was held outdoors. You know you did something right when every child goes home covered in mud from head to toe. lmao. My son love it.

hmmm what else happened in the last few months…

I learned the truth about bananas:

nana

I think that’s all I got.

I think you are all caught up.. WAIT NO. THIS HAPPENED TO ME:

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I, um. I love clowns I do. BUT WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!

FUCK. Now I have to go put up a Clown warning. .

Alright, I think we are done with the recap. HAHAHAH!

Also, I’m just going to leave this here: 

hahahha

Hope you all are well, LMAO.

Catriona

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May 26 2014
10 Comments
ASK CATRIONA, Broken Head

To answer your questions

My other half did survive. I’m not sure I did.

It’s a struggle every day. There was permanent damage, still recovering. May never recover.

I am a single parent again, taking care of 3 people on one income. My poor son was diagnosed with PTSD last week, too. The whole house is damaged.

The universe and I are fighting.

My son, for the first time in his life has asked for a big Birthday party with his whole class and just one gift. It just so happens that the gift is very expensive. This is a kid that never asks for anything, so I am struggling to make these things happen. Sigh, I’m failing at the moment, and on a time crunch. Friggen’ Time, I wish I could stop it. I may actually take up standing on the corner, lol.  I was asking for an STD a while back so this is fitting, don’t you think?  haha.

I know I haven’t responded to anyone, I will, I’m just a wreck. I will tho, when I find my head, or an STD.

Catriona

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Apr 21 2014
2 Comments
Broken Head, My gift to you

Perfectly Primed for a Downward Spiral 

You guys never cease to amaze me. Thank you for all the messages and E-mails. I will respond, I will. I truly would hug each of you, and I’m not a hugger. 

I’m just a hot mess right now. You know, like the kind you see in Walmart. You know what I’m talkin’ about. Kidding. Kinda. Maybe.

It’s been 4 years this April since Oliver jumped off the planet, wow. 

I just wanted to let you all know I was still around. Whatever that even means any more. lol

So, while I am here – Photo Dump:

 

 

 

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nothing

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And my personal favorite:

wash your

Catriona

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Mar 21 2014
19 Comments
Broken Head

Broken head and the sunset

Life has been so horrifying these days. I’ve been officially diagnosed with PTSD. Not that it needed to be official, I’m displaying symptoms so apparent even the mail man is looking at me funny. Not the one that heard the STD convo, unfortunately. That was at Grams house.

I was starting to really think I was psychotic. Really. But both “specialists”  assure me this is “normal”, ha. I can’t deal with friends, I can’t look at photos, I can’t handle crowds even if there are vintage items involved. Simple inanimate objects trigger a fight or flight response that is just not rational. I just want to be alone. I feel better when I’m alone. I’m not dealing well with anything. I can’t do the things I love, I don’t even know if I love them any more. The spaces in my brain that used to be filled will endless knowledge are filled with the same file I just cannot delete.  It’s like my brain and senses are stuck on an endless loop of emotional terrorism. I live with earbuds flooding my brain with the loudest, most complicated music I can find,  in order  to keep the file from taking over my head completely.

It’s gotten so bad that I walk for hours on end, blasting music, like some how if I keep moving it will keep the darkness away.

I understood PTSD before, but I really didn’t. I hope none of you ever, ever do.

Under the BUnder a bridge.

on the bridgeStanding on the same bridge days later.

pt tripping 3I’ve been walking the canals a lot.

Catriona

 

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Mar 09 2014
2 Comments
Broken Head

The Man Behind The Crotch

Isn’t he beautiful? Don Quixote. Hand carved, even his crotch.

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That’s all I got, hand carved crotch.

Catriona

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Mar 08 2014
10 Comments
Broken Head

Name That Crotch!

I want to personally thank each and every one of you that has reached out to me these last weeks. Even you creepers. Thank you. It means more than you know. I will answer each of your messages and comments. I will, when I can.

And to show my love right back, I have something for you.

 

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Lets play

Name That Crotch!

 

Catriona

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Mar 01 2014
13 Comments
Broken Head

Enter Title here

Usually when I fall on my face, I’m back on my feet just as fast. No beats skipped. Usually, I brush myself off, shake out my hair (Yes, I whip my hair back and forth), scoop up my kid and keep going. I back down to no one, nothing. Nothing.

However, that doesn’t seem to be the case this time. I remember the exact moment I felt my brain unravel. It was like the moment of impact in a fatal car accident. But I wasn’t in a car, I was in my bedroom. From the moment I heard myself say “No way” on Feb 8th, I’ve felt as though I have completely lost my mind.

I keep being told that time will fix it – “You just need time to get back on your feet.” Bitch, I don’t even know where my feet are. Do I even have feet? Can YOU even see my feet at this point? Have they been stolen? They’ve been fucking stolen! Feet, ha. I’ve been down on my face for weeks. Every time I even lift my head, the Universe delivers yet another kick to the gut.

I feel everything and nothing, all at the same time. I’m on auto pilot. What’s worse is I’m pretty sure this auto pilot program was written by a drunken crackhead. I want nothing to do with anyone. Not even people I love. My son being the only exception. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want anything to do with any type of social connections. I’m not capable of handling other people’s emotions, at all.  The people I usually run to, I’m hiding from. I just want them all to stay over there. Over there, where I can keep an eye on you, but you can’t get to me. I feel nothing for them. Nothing. I know I love them. I know I do. I just can’t feel it. At all. Seems to be the more I care the thicker the brick wall I’m constructing. I know it’s unfair, I know it’s hurtful, I know it makes no sense to most. But, at the moment it seems to be what I need.. Lest I open my mouth and burn bridges I constructed in love. I feel poisonous. You should hear all the hurtful things I don’t say. I know why my brain is constructing such hurtful sentences. It would only take one or two to get you all to permanently leave me alone. My brain wants you all to go away and never look back. But logic (is it logic? Maybe it’s the fragments of my heart) is what keeps my mouth clamped shut. If I just keep you all over there, I won’t set you all on fire, my brain can’t get to you, and I won’t cause permanent damage to the things I love.

I’ve got two funerals to attend in the next two weeks, and next Tuesday is my first day back to work since the 8th. I can’t even function, but I’ve somehow got to pretend to be normal and not the complete lunatic I now am. Catriona was crazy, and I owned it. I loved it. But I don’t know what this is, I don’t know what I am any more.

Catriona

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Feb 21 2014
14 Comments
Broken Head

Dear Universe

You’ve broken my heart, and my head. Smashed them.

I feel like you’re punishing me for something. You are, aren’t you? I’m not sure what I’ve done, or how to repent, but you’re killing me. I feel like you don’t even notice. Do you even care?

You keep dropping me to my face, and gleefully kicking me while I’m down.

Two weeks ago I found myself clutching the phone with my head and shoulder while pulling the lifeless body of the person my son considers to be his other parent from the bed to the floor, for resuscitation. I found myself in the ICU for days; the noises of life support filling my ears.

This week I found myself in a different hospital looking down at one of my closest friends as he showed me how the surgery went. They took his leg to save his life. He’s not a candidate for prosthesis, he’s wheelchair bound, and elderly. And I’m so helpless it’s killing me.

Also this week -I found myself in a room hearing things like “PTSD”, “Time”, “Brave”, and “you should really resume writing”.  Resume writing? I don’t know how to resume anything, let alone writing.

That’s just this month. I’m so broken Universe, can you see this? I’m destroyed in places I didn’t even know existed. I don’t even feel human anymore. I feel poisonous.

What have I done to you? How do I fix it?

Catriona

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