Warning the second: TMI often occurs. Read at your own risk. Feel free to laugh at my expense (I know I do!).
Warning the third: I suppose I should just put a general Trigger Warning here. I talk about mental illness (Anxiety, panic disorder, depression, social shit), abuse (rarely), and my fucked up relationship with food. And...other things. Actually, just consider this a general warning: If you might be triggered by things, you probably should read no further.
Friday, November 22, 2013
MY AUNTIE MAME BOUGHT ME TICKETS TO GO SEE DAY OF THE DOCTOR IN 3D ON MONDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I may post an actual update later when I've stopped flailing.
Thursday, October 24, 2013
I cannot express how desperately I need to be living in the city. I'm driving 150 miles a day and it's completely wringing me out. I feel like I could accomplish so much more if I didn't have that commute. It's not just the time it takes (just shy of 3 hours), it's the energy it sucks out of me. I want to be exercising now that I can go days without painkiller. But I'm so exhausted that I'm usually resting for two of the three days I don't have class. I'm consuming romance novels at an INSANE rate to counteract the stress.
Oh, the stress. If I don't get a job soon there is a damn good chance I won't be able to attend next semester. If I'm lucky I'll be able to take ONE class and beg family for gas money to get to it. 150 miles takes a shit-ton of gas. (that would be the technical term, of course) Plus the drama of living with two people who seriously need to talk to a mental health professional about past issues. SERIOUSLY. I can't even fully express how much they need to.
I dream of having my own place. Do you know, I've never lived solo in my entire life? I've always lived with SOMEONE. Except for one winter that the ex spent pulling down drywall at his parent's house. It was two rooms, not enough for a winter. I kind of liked it, aside from the lack of a working heater in a shit-tastic old RV. I dream of not having people fighting and waking me up. Or constantly asking me to turn stuff down (that is not, by the way, turned up all that loud) when they have stuff playing loudly late into school nights. I can't complain because they're letting me live there rent-free...well, except for the babysitting when I watch their baby for 6-12 hours at a stretch. Just to have my own space where I could walk around naked if I wanted. Where I could watch what I liked. Just...UGH.
I'm actually not in the horrible mood this post makes me sound like. I'm writing an EXCEEDINGLY entertaining Regency Romance retelling of beauty and the beast that has me giggling (purposeful humour on the author's part, to be clear). I'm also slowly starting to get to know cool folks in my classes. Maybe I'll be lucky and stay in contact after the semester ends. We'll see.
I'm stressed, and I NEED A FUCKING JOB, but in spite of that life isn't too bad.
Friday, September 27, 2013
I'd been making strides, I really had! I'd gotten to the point where I was basically eating three meals a day. I even ate in public! In the student center. Sometimes. And by sometimes I mean rarely, but STILL. Progress had been made. I was eating, then I was starting to eat healthier, and...things were looking up. I felt so hopeful.
Flash forward to the present...
It's the partially the financial stress, but part of it is seeing so few obese people on campus. I'm surrounded by people a decade younger than me and half my size. I have not had any of the past bad experiences happen to me yet, but I've also not given them an opportunity to happen.
Yesterday I would have gone the whole day (on a long day I'm awake between 3.30 and 4 and leave by 5 AM, not to get home til around 9 PM) having eaten nothing but a small piece of chicken, a peppermint and an energy drink (I do not include water intake because caloric value). I ended up being hungry, which shouldn't be surprising but was. I can usually submerge those feelings quite successfully. I had no money to spare, because honestly the caffeine necessary to ensure that I don't die a fiery death on the freeway was more important. What's a girl to do? Start bitching fruitlessly on the internet of course! I didn't think there was anything to be done and...I'm a whiner at times. I really am.
An amusing conversation developed on Twitter which ended up becoming about mechs. Hilarity was had by all. Hardy har. One friend suggested mooching food off someone, but even if someone had been eating that would have been impossible. I can only mooch off of people I've shared food with in the past. Another suggested I mug someone for food, which was appealing simply for the entertainment value.
Meanwhile, on Facebook, I was messaging with one of my "internet girlfriends" and bitching there. Little did I know that she was being proactive. Shortly she messaged me, informing me that not eating for 12 hours was unacceptable and that she was going to buy me dinner via online ordering. Dinner was delicious and she was duly declared the best "internet girlfriend". But...
It made me realize that I've been pulling stunts like that for a month. Do I eat that little all the time? NO. Have I been starving my body of nutrients because of anxiety over finances and insecurity around strangers? YES. Even when I'm at home I'm guilty of this, because I am uncomfortable with the fact that my friends are feeding and housing me for free when they have so little money to spare.
So in a nutshell what's going on? I have fantastic friends and my brain is fucked.
Friday, September 20, 2013
I'm stressed. So stressed. I have no job. I had an interview for Amazon for a job that I was under the impression was flexibly scheduled. Which it rather is...as soon as you get through the month of training on a 7 AM to 4 PM schedule. I would not have wasted so much time if I'd know. Le sigh.
So now I look for a job. And look. And look. And apply. And look. I have received no replies, which is both frightening and disheartening. Which gets my crazysauce all up in a tizzy telling me "WHO THE FUCK WOULD HIRE YOU. YOU ARE EXHAUSTED. EVEN IF YOU GET A JOB YOU'LL LOSE IT BECAUSE YOU HAVE NO FUCKING ENERGY." Day in, day out, with the mental screaming. No many how many times I tell it to shut the fuck up. This is why I need booze.
You see, I'm a happy drunk. It makes me feel better. It helps with physical pain too (OH that's the other thing, the area in which I am living HATES MY SINUSES. Don't worry, fibro's still doing pretty good). It's just...a relief. Which is part of the reason I don't drink much because I've already put such a load on my liver with the painkillers that I don't want to kill it with booze. Because it would be quite easy to become a functioning alcoholic. I also refrain because I don't have the money to be a functioning alcoholic. Sigh.
But I wish I had a bottle of something deliciously alcoholic. You know, the kind of stuff that has you drunk before you even start tasting the booze. I wish I had that bottle all to myself. I would huddle in my room and get drunk and giggle and possibly flirt on the internet. Or maybe just giggle on the internet. I would feel better for a time, and more importantly it would be a release valve for the pressure I feel myself under.
Alas. I have not the money nor the irresponsibility to booze it up.
Oh woe is me.
I'd say AJA AJA FIGHTING, but I'd rather have the booze *pout*.
Friday, September 13, 2013
So. Romance. I've made it very clear that I am actively avoiding it currently. Right now actively avoiding it has just meant making clear to my dear matchmaking friend that I really want her to NOT set me up. At school it's not an issue because there's still only about five people on campus I'm comfortable talking to. Well, students, I mean. Obviously I have to talk to my teachers and their TAs. While that would not necessarily be an impediment (we'll ignore my views on what college boys who are too young for me (can't sing the inspector gadget theme song? you're out of luck! ;) ) are probably attracted by), I'm currently in the habit of NEVER making eye contact whilst traveling between classes. So. Yeah. Actively avoiding romance.
I feel so envious right now though. I know I'm not in a healthy place for a relationship, because I haven't figured out why I pick the people I do nor have I figured out how to change that behaviour. But...*whine* I miss cuddling and twitterpation. The complicated crush, remember him? Anyways, he has been very successful lately on the romance front. I know other people who have been too, but I'm more aware of how he acts in those situations than I am of friends where there is not that complicated history. He and I are also alike in certain ways, so... It's just really easy for me to imagine what life is like right now for him. And...it makes me melancholy. Not because he's happy, or because of some kind of twisted jealousy, but...because...I want that even while I don't.
I don't want to deal with a relationship right now because I do NOT have the emotional energy. I don't want to be in a relationship right now, because I don't think I would choose a healthy one. I have a lot of reasons for wanting to remain single. But I still miss the emotional and physical closeness of being in a relationship. Not so much the sex (which is another issue I have to deal with) but more the affection. I'm just kind of lonely in that respect...and yet I treasure my solitude. It's just fucked up.
Okay, I'll write about the other because it's less depressing. SO...yeah...okay...um...right. I have been writing what Tyler calls "vignettes" of a romance story. Well, I mean, it's kind of two in my head but I've only actively worked on one of them because the second depends on the first. I am frustrated because I kind of have writer's block. It's not exactly that I don't know what I want to write, it's more that I cannot write more without a better mental image of one of the main characters. I've got two very solidly in mind, I can visualize them. No problem. The third is pretty solid, but I have a little bit of trouble because that's the one that is involved with the troublesome one. The fourth is just...UGH. I can't figure her out. I have only one bit of a scene written with her in it and it's phone dialogue. I can't see her as a person so I have the scenes that I sort of plotted out, but I can't write them because I can't fully visualize her reactions and dialogue. I know where the scene will end up, I have an idea of how the other characters would react, I know how it feeds into the larger plot, but I can't write because I don't know what she'll do.
So those are my two romance problems. There's not much that I've been able to figure out for either one, but, fuck, life happens right. I'm doing a lot of AJA AJA FIGHTING because I'm tired and it helps.
Monday, September 9, 2013
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
I got lost two and a half times yesterday and ended up wandering for (accumulated) hours. I had to stay home today because I wrecked my body a bit. Not as bad as it would have been in the Puget Sound, but I also have blood blisters on my left foot (as well as regular blisters on both feet). I know where my classes are now though, so that's something *sigh*.
My crazysauce is having trouble with the amount of people at the university. But I think I can manage...hopefully. It should only be a problem at one point during the day. I get to my first class super early and there aren't a whole lot of people out and about on campus at that time. Then I leave to eat and stay at the library for a few hours (theoretically doing homework). When I get back to campus I am going to park near my last class of the day, then walk to the second class...that's the tough one. The simple route (that won't get me lost) is both long and goes through "the mall" which is super busy and full of students. After that class is over I backtrack, but there are fewer students (though still a shit ton) out at that point. Leaving my last class I can walk out the back and get to my car with minimal social interaction. This is two days a week. The other two days are simple in and outs. So it's doable. Still stressful, but doable.
I ended up walking in front of sorority girls twice and shamelessly eavesdropped. It was kind of boring, but still kind of funny. Though mad props to the girl who has a boyfriend who's thinking marriage. Why? Because she doesn't want to support him. Way to break stereotypes chica! Seriously, she's a young thing who definitely has a grasp of what she wants from life. I have no idea what she looks like, I thought it might be creepy to turn around and look.
I am too tired to be funny right now. Insert your own joke here.
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
My brain is dwelling and flitting about. I'm mopey about the fact that so few people helped. I know that a lot of people are dead broke, but it hurts that they couldn't even spare five dollars. Silly, I know, but there you are. I would say a handful of people helped, either through signal boosting or contributing, so that's something anyways. And some continually boosted the signal, which made me feel good.
Then I come across stuff I missed due to crazysauce. Like that solidarity is for white women or something hashtag? I felt kind of lost because, as always, I just don't realize what white women don't know. They really don't know that the color gap is bigger than the gender gap when it comes to wages? How is that even possible? I mean, this facts keep popping up ALL OVER THE INTERNET. The internet that they are using. Just...HOW?!? And then I found out how shitty parts of the feminist movement are and I think to myself "Thanks, I'll stick with the old-school feminists who care about motherfucking equality regardless of race, religion, or lifestyle kthnsbye." I mean, those are the white feminists I think of when you put those two terms together.It makes me sad that there's another kind.
It made something pop to the top of my head again. I've pondered a lot about why I'm more comfortable with non-white folk, but less so for why I'm uncomfortable with a lot of white folk. The fact is that they have expectations that not only can I not fulfill, but that I don't even comprehend. There's some sort of white code that I just never got the book for. So I walk into an interaction with an unknown white person EXPECTING that one or both of us is going to be uncomfortable. Self-perpetuating thingamajig.
I'm excited for school, I'm excited for the potential of ACTUALLY getting to see Pacific Rim on the big screen without murdering my budget, and most of all I'm excited for change. Scared out of my wits, but excited.
Monday, August 5, 2013
I got to go to her wedding. It wasn't the official ceremony, that had happened awhile before. But this was her grand shindig wedding. It was Doctor Who themed and I took my two closest international student friends with me. We helped set up. I helped her mother-in-law maker her bouquet. I suggested making a bouquet for her husband, and that ended up happening. When it came to the pertinent part of the ceremony I joined in with everyone else "Mawwiage...Mawwiage is what bwings us togethwa today..."
She never found out who the Twelfth Doctor was, and that makes me sad. I think the fact that he played the Angel Islington in Neverwhere would have made her giggle. I never got to have that conversation with her. I'll never send her another dirty meme, or pretty dress, or geeky song. I'll never cheer for her when something awesome happens. I'll never be able to tell her I miss her again.
I don't know if we'd be called close friends, but we were GOOD friends.
I am far from the only person feeling this loss. You'd have to have known her to understand. She was just...light in the darkness. No matter how low she got, she would always fight her way back to the light. She'd often credit her friends for her success, but so much of it was just her. She had this grin that just sucked you in, a mischievous spirit that just made you want to cause trouble with her, a joie de vivre that was just captivating. Knowing she was in the world made it a better place.
I feel like I should be more like her now. I mean, in some ways we were a lot alike, that's why we got along. But...I lack her willingness to take chances on people romantically. I lack her ability to accept that kind of love. It scares me. It would take a whole lot of therapy to get me even halfway there. So I guess that's motivation. I can never be her, but I can embrace and accept more fully the things that we shared. I can learn to be more confident by remembering her delight in herself. Perhaps I can follow her example in health. I can use her as the impetus to FOCUS more on getting fit. I don't know. I just feel like...I just feel like I want to do something to make her presence remain.
Friday, August 2, 2013
Never pity me, even though I often pity you.
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
SO. Yeah. Financial Aid? Not so much this semester. I got 2500 over the basic federal funding and still needed another ten grand. That didn't happen. So I started crunching numbers like mad and...fall semester is probably going to happen, but I won't be full time (nor will I be living on campus, yaaaay hour plus commute. One way.). It's kind of frustrating because I'm losing half my pell grant and I'm only going to be 2 or 3 credits away from the full time that will give me the full amount. *sigh* BUT, I have managed to figure out how to attend this fall, and I have a lead on a seasonal job (which, as always, could lead to regular employment) that would allow me to save up enough to go full time Spring semester. I've got plans up the wazoo and am currently running a fundraiser to help me get the hardware I need for that seasonal job. https://fundrazr.com/campaigns/9ZJo8 (shameless plug)
So this is great, right? I've solved the problems in advance so there should be no problems, right? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA...ha...yeah no. My crazysauce is in such full force right now that I almost had a panic attack standing in line at the library. THE LIBRARY. AKA the one place I never have them which is why I was initially considering getting a Library Science degree. Yeah, that is so not a good sign. My heart was pounding, my chest hurt, I could barely breathe. Just...crap. I'm holed up in the room my friends have so graciously provided for me and pop out for less than an hour at a time in an effort NOT to be a complete anti-social leach. I'm freaking out on so many fronts.
First- My mind is both humiliated and unconvinced by my fundraiser. I'm embarrassed to ask for help and in my heart of hearts I can't really believe I'm going to raise the money which leads to
Second- Crazysauce says I can't get a job, keep a job, or in any way make enough money for school.
Third-I'm staying with friends who really grok the mental illness thing. Which, of course, means they're crazy too which means we can get into vicious cycles of crazy.
Fourth-My crazysauce is so ascendant right now that I cannot help but be fearful for my performance in school.
Fifth-I'm fucking CRAZY y'all.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
You know how some people become first time parents and there's like this amazing flowering of personal growth because having a child has pulled them outside of their own minds and you're just like "WOW, you're actually a worthwhile human being! Who knew?!?" Okay, now think of the opposite of that.
He's fucking lucky to be alive. It's a wonder his body wasn't found in a ditch on the way here (here being Kentucky).
I am sympathetic, because some of his behaviour has to do with the shitty relationship he was in before. She was a piece of work...in the bad way. She fucked him up, over, and under. She was also a skunt. BUT...if my brainmath is correct, it's been over two years now. His new wife (the wonderful Wendy who has her own problems from a previous relationship but is a LOT more aware of that) is NOTHING like the old one. Serious upgrade. His family agrees. I would submit that continuing to react to her like she was his ex is a fucking insult.
IN ANY CASE. While some of his reactions are because of the former and I can understand that...there's a line. And he keeps crossing it.
He also is failing at parenting because he can't stop panicking. Here he is with a teething baby in his arms, a crying teething baby, and what is his reaction? YELL. When his wife (who has two much older children and thus experience) asks him to stop yelling? He continues yelling that he's sorry, he's not mad, he just doesn't know what to do. At which point she tells him AGAIN to stop yelling. Somehow he can't seem to clue in that a baby doesn't understand that he's not yelling because he's mad, a baby just knows that she's in pain and now her daddy is being LOUD AND YELLY. He also can't understand why his defensive behaviour and inability to take constructive criticism might piss wifey off. Tempers fray. Muchly. and now we segue.
I was asked to tag along so I could help Tom bring home malted shakes for everyone. Fine. His adorkable niece ends up tagging along. Great. He goes around supposedly making a list of what malts people want so he's all organized (theoretically). Reasonable. He keeps repeatedly asking me if I'm going and when I say "sure" snaps at me to get ready to go...repeat this step over a period of twenty minutes to half an hour. Eyetwitch. Niece and I have been goofing off and harassing each other all day, he asks us to cut it out in the car, as this is a reasonable request we comply. We get to the store and get in line. He has forgotten the list in the car. Niece and I step aside and goof off (she was bopping my nose and trying to keep me from bopping hers). He comes back in and orders. Great. We continue goofing off. He bites our fucking heads off. At this point I am thinking "okay, that's legit, I can understand how the immaturity would get annoying. I will accept this even though his tone is completely out of line." He screws up his order. People get in line behind us. He screws up his order again. And again. And again. We (niece and I) try to help keep him calm and figuring out the order. This is not a rewarding experience. After umpteen order changes (I felt so bad for the guys working and the people in line behind him) we finally end up with an 8 malt order. 5 chocolate, 2 cherry, and a cookie dough. If you couldn't guess I KEPT HEARING THIS FUCKING ORDER. While talking to us he keeps screwing up what's in his order. So when the guy says "Here's cookie dough and 2 chocolate" and tom responds with a comment that sound an awful lot like he thinks that's all the chocolate he's getting I let loose with a flippant and dramatic "BUT WAIT, there's more!" He starts going off on me, and as it seems like it has to do with the order takers I think it's reasonable. So I politely say that I'm sorry, that's not what I intended I just meant that there were more chocolate malts coming. HE FLIPS THE FUCK OUT AND ORDERS ME TO GO STAND OUTSIDE AND WAIT BY HIS CAR. He's six fucking years older than me. I won't let my own MOTHER talk to me in that tone, and she went through three days of labour for me! This does not fucking fly. I don't know if my eye was twitching, but I must have had a murderous gleam in my eye as I stared him down. I think I said something like "Oh, WE can TAKE this outside." He starts apologizing and trying to blame his alcoholic consumption of the night before, or the fact that his wife is cranky (because he wouldn't stop fucking yelling around their teething and vomiting 6 month old baby), or that they didn't get enough sleep OR OR OR. All that's going through my head is how many times he has lashed out at me over the past month and apologized for it. People don't realize it, but I have a pretty potent temper. I made the decision to leave before I lost my shit in public. As I turn and go towards the door he says "No, you don't have to wait outside." I informed him that I thought it would be a good idea and leave to go pace behind the car. I think it made him uncomfortable because he ended up bringing his keys out to the car. When he and Niece come out with the order he apologizes, stating it's nothing personal. "It never is," I reply. I also ratted him out to his wife (and feel no guilt about that) and he apologized again.
I should add that the man does have PTSD. Which is why I have endured a LOT more bullshit from him than I would normally consider acceptable. A LOT. Because the asshole thinks it's okay to dish out teasing and shit on me, but if I reciprocate (or, heaven forbid, aid his WIFE in teasing or shenanigans) he flips the fuck out. I keep telling him "Don't dish it if you can't take it" and he keeps insisting he can.
You can just IMAGINE how much I'm looking forward to the trip back :/
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
I thought the trip would trigger my crazy more. I mean, I've always been bad with change, and with plans falling through, or schedules going kaput, but...I was okay. We ended up getting to our first night's stopping point about 4 or 5 hours later than we intended, I didn't get to see my friend in Austin, TX, the food plan was NOT followed, which meant that the budget was NOT followed...and I survived pretty damn well. I managed not to panic too much, and I think I've managed the new people okay. Under the circumstances it's hard not to pull the kicked puppy act "likemelikemelikemepleaselikeme" but I think I'm doing...okay. Not perfect by any stretch, but okay.
I will freely admit that I am concerned for our trip back, because Tom is bad with money and he won't have my extra that got us the last little way gaswise. But...we'll figure things out. Somehow.
Less clear is what the HELL I'm going to do if the other half of my financial aid doesn't come through. I love Tom and Wendy, but living with them long term is not an option. Well, okay, it's an option, but it's not one I'm comfortable with. The deal was that I'd stay with them on holidays and breaks, not long term. Also, if I lived with them long term I'd have to sleep somewhere else a couple times a month because of lease things.
But...I'm still cool. I'm still good. I took a flying leap of faith outside my comfort zone and I'm pretty happy with it. I've been severely limiting my social interaction in AZ, but that's just acclimation. And common sense. I'm having a blast with Tom's family and they respect my space.
I am kind of tired right now, so even though there's more that I could write about I don't think I'm going to. Suffice to say that change is scary and my comfort zones have been supremely stretched...and I couldn't be happier.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
While I know this is crazysauce, it's still bewildering. How can I care so much for someone that I would take a bullet for them and at the same time so easily walk away? I think about people who are no longer in my life, but it's kind of like...out of sight, out of mind. When I think about my ex (which is not all that frequent) I don't really care about him. I'm not happy with the way I was treated, but I...just don't care. I don't wish him ill (unless I'm really cranky ;) ), I just...don't care. Don't they say the opposite of love is indifference? I guess that's true.
I guess that's true of friend-love as well too. It bothered my ex that I could so thoroughly lose people from my life. Is it strange to reach the point of "no more" and walk away without a second thought? Most of the time I don't think so, partially because I will stay dedicated to someone faaaaaaaaaaaaaar past the point I should (and I'm not just referring to my ex-husband). But when I get these moments where I feel so incredibly detached from my life...well...the moments in question are strange enough that even while I'm experiencing them I question them. I also question anything that resembles them. Like my ability to wipe someone from my life.
I don't know. I'm tired, not feeling great, and yet again bewildered by my bizarro emotions. Definitely need to see about therapy if I can get all this finaid stuff sorted. I just need an impartial source to tell me what's healthy and what's not :/.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
I'm still finding my footing here in other respects. I am staying with friends who are awesome and both understand and respect my issues and decisions.
There were a lot of "and"s in that sentence.
I'm feeling a bit awkward though, because they're being really generous with their space and food and stuff and I...feel uncomfortable that I don't have a job to contribute. Which is why, broke as I am, I am paying for pizza for me and Tom tonight. Even though pizza inevitably disagrees with me. I feel uncomfortable with letting go of cash for a frivolous reason, but I feel more uncomfortable with being a leech, and...*flails* Overall, the situation right now is REALLY good for me, but I can't help the crazysauce in my head whispering doubts, uncertainties, possible future disasters, and insecurities. I also can't help the extreme anxiety over money. I've gotten to the point where I have a smidge over half of the financial aid I need for university. I have very little wiggle room when it comes to money. Like... VERY little. There's shit all I can do about any of that, so I feel adrift at the same time that I feel I have made serious positive changes in my life.
So, basically, I am in a really really good place right now, but my CRAZY thinks everything is a disaster waiting to explode. Which is frustrating as fuck. What's also frustrating is the fact that my crazy is coming up with somewhat plausible scenarios for disaster. It's like...it's like, when it's teh zombie shit my brain is hitting me with, it can be crippling but overall it's so over the top and ridiculous that it's easier to deal with. Whereas anything "real world"ish my brain comes up with...my crazy just latches onto to it and it's incredibly hard to get it to let go.
Not to say I'm not "aja!aja! fighting!" for all I'm worth, it's just...a pain in the ass.
Friday, June 7, 2013
That's not what's hurting my heart the most though. I keep thinking about her family. Her two older kids? Their bio-dad is an ass and they had such a great relationship with their mother. How could they not? She was awesome. Her younger boy with her second husband (the one she was married to for ten years before getting all the paperwork squared away for her church wedding) is so young and vibrant and...he's just a great kid. He has to be hurting so bad now. But her husband is honestly the one I'm hurting the most for. I didn't know him that well, but I know that he has a great sense of humour, is a loving father to all the children, is generous, and positively adored Connie. And I also know that when they married he was a widower. I'm so glad that he's the man he is, because I don't know how he and his family would survive otherwise.
So why the title of this post? Because not too long before Connie died, good news was heard from another source. I'm really hoping that Connie was told about it before she passed, because I think it would have made her happy. Another dear coworker from the same place I knew Connie, well, she's had a tough life. Shortly before I left that area it was discovered that her son had a brain tumour, and it was right on the ocular nerve. This has been something that she's been dealing with for the past two years (with lots of drama involving her ex). Well, her son celebrated his last day of chemo last month. So this four year old has had his vision saved and the growth of a tumour halted by some truly fantastic doctors and nurses. I'm so glad, he's such a funny (and adorable kid).
So sometimes cancer wins, and sometimes it gets its ass kicked.
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Thou doth enter my life and
The ease with which I formerly navigated
Vanishes with a wave of thy capricious hand!
Not that that drabble has any sort of rhyme or meter or what have you, but it made me giggle to write it.
So...yeah. Remember the person with which I would dearly love to have a higher degree of intimacy with? Well, they have thus far proved that the trust was not misplaced. Respect is sexy. Which is why life is even MORE frustrating than before!
Here's the rundown: Went over to said friend's for a movie/cuddle night. We watched movies from 4pm til 1 am. Much cuddling was had. In the middle of our movies he made a frustrated comment that I cannot relate in its entirety but was along the lines of "You would probably be my girlfriend right now if it weren't for the chaos of life". All I could respond with was "I concur". So yeah. We ended up cuddling all night in his bed where he respected all boundaries (though twitching fingers told me it was not without using a good bit of self-control). It's a good thing that I'm moving, because if I were staying I would not be able to hold to my decision of "Celibacy and no dating until I get through some therapy for all my shit" if he were to ask me out.
I will freely admit that the above paragraph was copy and pasted from another conversation elsewhere, because going over things makes me want to headdesk to the extreme. Because... He's respecting my boundaries, and ,while he doesn't know specifics, he is respecting my choices too. Which makes those boundaries and choices, however wise and important I feel them to be, incredibly frustrating. And annoying. And aggravating.
I don't know how I would deal with sexual intimacy with him, because I can never predict what my wonky libido will do. I do know that being with him makes my heart warm. I don't just mean being around him makes me happy, I mean that it literally feels like this glorious, sun-drenched warmth in my chest cavity when I'm with him. And you know that funny, but good, feeling you get in your stomach when you're at the perfect level of intoxication? When you've had just enough alcohol to feel good, but aren't into the "oh shit" territory of drunkenness? Yeah, thinking about him makes me feel that way. He's the best cuddler I know, and we fit perfectly. He makes me feel that who I am is okay, more than okay, desirable. He thinks I'm beautiful, and I think he's one of the most wonderful people I know. I don't know if handsome is the right word, but I like his face. Seeing his face makes me happy, and talking to him makes me happier. It doesn't take much to picture my future with him in it (which was a struggle with my ex (which probably should have clued me in)).
I'm falling for him in the worst (or best) way. I'm not sure why it took so long (I met him about 5 years ago), but I have some theories. By the time we became friends (as opposed to acquaintances who found each other nifty) he was firmly in the 'unavailable' box, because his then wife had asked him to close the relationship. I respect boundaries. Then when he was out of the 'unavailable' box, I was trying to save a failing marriage (even if I didn't realise it) and he was too far away geographically. He respects boundaries. Right now we're both technically in the 'available' box for the first time in our friendship and it's like my heart went "Ding!". Unfortunately it went "Ding!" without consulting the common sense that decided that it's not fair to a potential partner for me to have these undealt with (and volatile) "issues". Add in the fact that I'm moving some 1500 miles away from him and you'll understand why I'm letting out a big ol' "FUCK YOU" to the Universe, Life, and Everything.
Friday, May 24, 2013
I'm alone. I'm sitting at a table all alone and I only know one person in the entire room.
Friday, May 17, 2013
Well, I mean I don't have a god of fucking, and I'm not sure how God as an incorporeal entity *could* fuck.
But I digress.
I'm walking the knife's edge lately. There's so much to do in such a short period of time and all of it involves change. Change is scary. Good, but scary. I'm looking at less than a month before making an incredibly HUGE life change. Seriously, I've never lived outside the Pacific Northwest. I just have no real concept of what this is going to be like. And it's a really important change because it's going to give me the chance to acquire the skills and training required for my dreams.
But it's so stressful. The stress is effecting and affecting everything. I say both effect and affect because my brain is so fried and drained that I can't remember which is proper to use in this instance.
While I've had reassurance from my teachers that I *WILL* be passing my classes (and thus getting my associate's degree), I can't help stressing. And I've also got a move to plan. And financial aid for out-of-state university tuition to worry about. And feelings. And people. And changes. I sometimes can't focus for more than a minute at a time, except for my trashy romances. And even the trashy romances have trouble holding my attention. Even writing this post has taken way longer than it should because I can't just stay in this window and right. I've checked three social networking sites and followed links from all of them, all while "writing" this.
I'm a mess. Such a mess.
Friday, May 3, 2013
I appreciate that my well-meaning friend was wanting to share progress in something that has very directly affected me. I do. But at the same time...Just because I've shared something like that with you doesn't mean I want to talk about it. I probably *should* talk about it, but I really really really don't want to. I'm exhausted, I have so much to do currently. I canNOT deal with the emotional fallout of dealing with this shit. I really can't. I know I have to. I do understand that. But I don't want to.
It's been great lately. Physically I've been kind of crap, and my brain has fluctuated the levels of crazysauce periodically, but I have not ended up in crazytown for awhile. I've been really happy. But... I don't know. I think I'm getting some not-so-subtle hints from God that I really need to deal with this shit. Yes, I said from God. I sometimes flippantly say the universe is trying to tell me something, but this is different. I'm being nudged quite strongly. And I know he's right.
Side note: I do not believe God has a gender, I've just been culturally conditioned to use the male pronoun. I acknowledge this. Moving on.
There are some really wonderful people in my life who I could be pursuing "something" with if I weren't so petrified. Because I finally realized that I am. Petrified that is. I'm scared of intimacy. I'm scared that I'll be okay with it up to a certain point then panic and call a screeching halt to it. Based on past experience (yes, with my ex, yes,I realize the fucked upedness of it), I expect that the response will be far from pleasant. Recriminations, guilt, names, and...I don't know. I know that wonderful people won't do that, but my judgement has been bad before. I've trusted the wrong people and had boundaries breached that were never open for negotiation.
I can be kind of casual with my breasts. A grope isn't a big deal to me, as long as I know the person and permission has been granted. A grope is different than fondling though. Groping my breast is also far different than trying to slide one's hands up my inner thigh to FORBIDDEN TERRITORY when I am in such a sleep-deprived state that I am basically intoxicated. Yes, this is a specific instance and yes it was someone I thought knew me and respected my boundaries. No, I have never confronted this person. Yes, I cut them out of my life.
I have someone in my life that I would love to trust more. I'd love to loosen my boundaries somewhat. Not necessarily to the point of intercourse, but I would like to have a slightly higher level of intimacy with them. But I can't. Because I am scared that either I am wrong in my judgement of them, or that I will panic and fuck up a solid friendship. I don't think this person even knows that I feel this way, because apparently I'm actually pretty good at hiding this particular type of thing. I think it's because my boundaries are so different than other people's. In any case, I've been kind of grateful for my busyness lately, because it's allowed me a legitimate excuse to avoid the subject.
I'm kind of ashamed of my cowardice, but I know if someone else came to me in this same situation I wouldn't judge them a coward. I'd tell them they were rightfully cautious and help them talk it through. But I feel like a coward. And I don't want to talk things through and figure things out because I'm going to be leaving soon.
I have plans to get counseling whilst at university, so long as I can get student insurance figured out. But that doesn't help me now. And my emotions are all up in a heaval now. And I hate that a friend's kindly wish to inform me of the spousal rape stuff is what cued this in my brain. Because I don't want to associate wonderful with bad. And it confuses the issue. And...
I just want someone to cuddle and hold me and let me ramble and rant and maybe cry. I just want to heal.
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Is my obesity a security blanket? I'm not sure what quite cued this in my head, but...Is it? I was thinking the other day, and while I'm really hoping to get healthier when I get down to AZ...I'm not sure I'm all that enthused about losing weight. On the other hand, no matter how much I try to downplay it the fact is that being overweight makes me feel hideous. So I guess the question is...do I *WANT* to be hideous? Is that one of the reasons I haven't lost the weight?
But when I look at it from another angle I wonder something else ENTIRELY. Yes, being fat makes me feel hideous...but it wasn't until I tipped over into the "obese" category (from the merely "overweight" one) that I started getting hit on. I wasn't treated as sexually desirable until I got fat, or, at least, not blatantly so. Perhaps there were those who thought I was attractive when I was skinny, but they never said anything. So am I fat because of vanity?
I don't quite understand this weird ambivalence about weight loss in my head. Because it's like a teeter-totter "Feel ugly, want to lose weight. Don't want to lose weight, it makes me nervous. Lose weight, people think I'm a loser. Don't lose weight,...for what reason?" I just don't understand myself.
I wondered if I gained some of the weight because of the rape. Was I gaining weight to try and make the husband I was still "in love" with back off? I just don't know. I really really don't know.
There's a third hand too, and that third hand has a lot to do with my temper. Am I staying fat to spite the people who have a problem with my weight? Am I staying fat to punish my mother for all of her well-intentioned and hurtful advice and comments over the years? Am I just digging my heels in because GODDAMNIT I shouldn't have to change to make you happy? Do I want those bitches who make snarky comments about me and my eating habits (snarky and inaccurate) to have to have my fat ass inflicted on their poor skinny-ass psyches? I don't fucking know.
It's times like these where I really feel the need for health insurance and a mental health professional. I mean, I do a LOT for myself. But I don't know if I can psychoanalyze myself out of this one. I want to be healthy, I want to be fit. I'm tired of being tired, and I thinking losing weight would help that. I don't know if I'm keeping the weight on out of stubbornness, fear, or vanity. I don't think I can get as healthy as I want if I can't figure this out. Which is frustrating. SO FUCKING FRUSTRATING.
Sunday, April 7, 2013
I was struck by a few things during, and because of, that conversation. The least consequential is that I didn't realize how much of a fibro fog I've been in lately. I was talking to my friend when I jolted and realized I had no idea what I'd just been saying or what the purpose was. Fortunately my friend is used to deciphering my "unique" conversational style, so nothing bad happened. But it made me realize that maybe I'm not doing as well physically as I thought. Which is a minor minor thing, but still a realisation.
The other was that I'm really really really the wrong person to talk to if you want someone to convince you NOT to hurt yourself. Because (and I know how fucked up this is) I truly believe self-injury is a completely acceptable coping mechanism. As long as you know how to patch yourself up...All I care about is if you feel better. If it doesn't make you feel better, don't do it. This extends to all forms of self-medication really. As long as you're not hurting anyone else and it makes you feel better, then I'm not going to pressure you to change. I call full halt when it hurts someone else, and if it starts to hurt you then we're going to start having conversations about it.
But the things is...who the fuck am I to judge? I've self-medicated in different ways. I go through periods where I hurt myself. I don't cut, but that's only because I have a problem with the sight of my own blood (well, not completely, but I'm not into extensive explanation right now). I probably will hurt myself periodically for the rest of my life. Because, guess what? It makes me feel better and does no lasting damage. Which will frustrate every mental health practitioner I ever meet probably.
Anyways, after I got off the phone with my friend sitting back from the ledge, I started messaging another friend on Facebook. He's my BFAM and he helps me put things into perspective by his very existence. Like....I can talk to him about anything, but I don't have to. I can just message him and knowing he's there if I need him makes things better. It's the willingness to listen that helps.
I'm getting off-track from what I wanted to talk about. Again. As always.
I have two viewpoints on friendship that work well for me. One I learned from a dear friend who said that friends are like investments, dump the ones who don't give good returns. It took me a long time to figure out how to utilise that advice in a way that worked for me. In my case it rarely means I just drop the person, ne'er to be seen again. I usually stop making an effort or including them in my life. The other viewpoint I couldn't really put into words, until last night. Talking to my bfam clarified it for me. I'm going to copy and paste what I wrote because I want to hang on to it.
"The one thing I always needed was to be accepted for who I am, broken bits and all, so it would be hypocritical of me not to accept others, y'know?
I'll never be done growing, because that is a silly way to live. But I feel like...I don't know...like my roots are firmly planted in the soil I want, that I can grow in the direction I want, and I have room enough to spread out to soak up the proverbial sun and rain.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
I acknowledge that many people have had a hand in shaping my skewed self-image. It was all unintentional. Of that I'm confident. I have an odd perspective on life and always have had. It means that I don't react to things the way people expect (which has its pros and cons). I've been working on this shit for a few years, but the last year of freedom has been the most successful. Leaps and bounds, m'dears, leaps and bounds.
So what am I rambling on about tonight? Well, o voiceless internet, I'll tell you. I'm pondering the fact that they were right...to a certain degree. Strange realisation to come to when these observations have fucked over my self-esteem, but still...They were.
I must seem narcissistic at times, staring at my pictures or in a mirror. But the fact is that I'm trying to understand. I'm trying to understand what attracts and repels people about me, and so I study myself. I study my face, my body, my mannerisms. I dissect my behaviour, reactions, and interactions. Of everything in the world that I want to understand, right now I am my most important field of study. And sometimes understanding seems so close, almost within my grasp. Like tonight.
I was randomly looking through pictures of myself on facebook, when I stopped on one that has caught my interest lately. I don't know why, but I've been staring at it for weeks. It's like it cues something on the tip of my brain and I keep almost catching it. I don't know that I've caught it complete, but a little comprehension crept in. I have a pretty face.
I don't mean that I'm some Helen of Troy or what have you, nothing like that. But... I honestly do have a pretty face. I don't know what it is about this picture as opposed to all the others that have been taken of me, but for some reason...in this picture I can see the face that has had its admirers. I stared and stared at the picture and I saw it...and it baffled me. I still don't understand what makes my face pretty. I don't know why this picture says to me "Yes, you are pretty." but...it does.
Then I started thinking of the "You'd be such a pretty girl, if you'd only..." and realised some of those were kindly meant as well. It's hard for people to understand what it was like to blossom at an early age (I was the first girl amongst my "friends" to wear a training bra). It wasn't just the discomfort with my body, little girls with envy are jealous little cunts. Bitches is too nice a word for how a lot of them behaved. Add to this the fact that my mom's a double-a cup and...well... Self-conscious is a mild descriptor. I just wanted to hide my body. So sometimes I seemed larger than I was, and sometimes I was just a frustrating person to deal with. Seriously frustrating. The dear people in my life who told me how pretty I'd be if I just "made a little effort" were trying so hard to help, while failing so VERY miserably.
Note to any parents out there: This phrase is guaranteed to cause problems.
I've struggled with this shit for so many years that this sudden epiphany is kind of hard to deal with. I've resented the people who said that shit for so many years, that it's kind of hard for me to realise that I have to forgive them. They never really knew how much I resented them, so it'd be a quiet forgiveness. But it's a forgiveness I need to grant for my own sake. Their intentions were good and they weren't totally wrong.
Growing up is hard. But lately it has seemed worth it. Figures I'd wait til I was almost 30 to catch on ;).
Saturday, March 16, 2013
I've still got all my normal problems, I just... I am in a better place mentally and emotionally than I can ever remember being before in my life. It's not that my anxiety (& co.) have disappeared, it's all still very much present. It's... I don't know how to explain precisely. I've never completely lost hope, not that I can think of. So it's not that I've rediscovered hope. I just... I feel so much more ABLE than I ever have before. Able to succeed, able to thrive, able to dream, able to seek out what I want in life and grab on with both hands.
And I'm happy right now. I'm going through a nerve-wracking waiting game to hear back from the University of Arizona, but... Even there I'm feeling ABLE. If I don't get in I'll try New Mexico or Nevada or other universities in Arizona or (if I must) Southern California. I will find somewhere in the southwest, I will find respite from my pain, and I will get my education. It's not "I should", "I'll try", "Maybe I...", no. I WILL.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Monday, March 4, 2013
I continue to make progress on my "I want" list. :-) I attended Emerald City ComiCon and it was everything I had hoped. I went with my two geek buddies from school and we enjoyed ourselves thoroughly before , after, and during the con. We got there a couple hours early and still weren't at the front of the line! Pretty near though ;-). The important part for me was that I managed myself well with the crowds. I'm not saying set it was perfect for that I was. But it's important to me and means a lot but I did manage to control my anxiety and fear and stuff enough to make it to work during an event that was just *filled* with people. I think I did good. Of course the tension from the crowds and being pressed up against a complete stranger whilst attending two panels in a row left me with pained shoulders and back, but... I still rocked it and sang manamana with a couple complete strangers. I guess I will always be the charming social butterfly with social anxiety. I'm okay with that, as long as I can still get the social interaction that I crave on my own terms. I seem to be more certain that it's possible lately. I'm happy.
Saturday, February 23, 2013
It's been an odd realisation, as this is not something I've had the greatest problem with in the past. I mean, I've often been an "one of the guys" girl. Some of the best friends I have had were heterosexual males. I'm the one who always calls bullshit when people say that a woman can't be friends with a heterosexual male. THEY'RE PEOPLE JUST LIKE US.
God...I have no idea where that last bit came from. Forgive me.
It was REALLY strange to realize that. I just keep coming up with these realisations and I'm honestly too stressed to deal with them. My mind is turtling lately because of stress, I DO NOT NEED ADDED SELF-REALIZATIONS.
I have to wonder if this discomfort is temporary. I mean, if it is temporary and recent (as in, the reason I didn't realize it before was because it didn't exist) I can think of what caused it. And when removed from that cause I could hope for it to disappear. Because I need it to disappear if I want to be able to play Shadowrun again. I can't just AVOID straight guys, particularly not in the kinda insular gaming community. I enjoy being part of the community when I'm in a position to do so. I enjoy hanging out with straight guys. I don't want to lose that because of stupid brain-chemistry stuff.
There are two reasons I can think of that I'm feeling like this. One is that recently I have been put into the middle of some heterosexual "feelings" drama(s). If that's the reason, then I'm thinking this is a temporary thing brought on by the stress of dealing with it. A temporary thing that will go away. The other reason...is going to require a lot more work.
The other reason is another realization I had not too long ago. One that I sort of already knew, but hadn't really pondered the consequences of dealing with. I mean...I knew about it, but hadn't really thought through how it was going to effect me. So, big reveal coupled with trigger warning. If you've ever been sexually assaulted or abused in any way READ NO FURTHER if you can't handle the topic.
A couple of months after my marriage my now ex-husband celebrated his 21st birthday by getting drunker than I have EVER seen him. To the very best of my knowledge he has no clear memory of that evening. He sexually assaulted me. I said no. A bunch. He had sex with me. At no point did I give consent. After he started, I clenched my fists and tried to dissociate myself from what was happening to me. I had never thought something like that COULD happen to me. A year or two later when we finally talked about it (I had told him something happened, but never the details) he got very angry with my having ever dared say he forced me. Because apparently I could have stopped him. He was always bigger and stronger than me, which we both knew was why I was attracted to him, but somehow I could have physically stopped him. I stayed married to him for seven years. I let him convince me that it wasn't REAL rape. I can even understand why he did it, I mean...what man wants to think of himself as a rapist? Particularly when it concerns a woman he loves. But in his ignorant youth he did us both a great GREAT disservice. One that he no longer has to deal with. But I do.
The fact is that I cannot know if my unique sex drive is a simple matter of brain chemistry or one of emotional scarring. Another fact is that a romantic relationship is almost ALWAYS going to be one about sex. Which brings me to the fact the third: I cannot in good conscience have a romantic relationship until I deal with this shit. And fact the fourth: While I LOVE women and find them beautiful and attractive, I cannot A) know that I'm not going to have the same issues with sex and B) do women in general the disservice of dating them because I can't emotionally handle dating a man. That would be a bullshit thing to do, so I'm not doing it.
This has been a really bad time for these kinds of realizations. I'm applying to university. I KEEP getting sick and am falling behind in my homework. I have love drama happening all around me. I have the stress of living with a family that has an issue with an integral part of who I am. I'm glad that I came to these realizations, I just wish that the timing had been better. I also really wish I had a cuddle buddy handy, because I could use the comfort of being held by someone who loves me enough to cuddle without the expectation of sex. I could really use that right now.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
We were wrong.
It turns out he's DESPERATE for a girlfriend. Like...REALLY desperate. As in I have it on good authority that he "doesn't care if she's fat or ugly or old" he just wants a girlfriend.
This has cast everything in a new light. I don't think I'm uncomfortable with him anymore, but I don't think I'm going to communicate my pity either. I mean, he's like...23 or 24 years old. That seems WAY too young to me to be THAT fucking desperate. I understand the whole cultural differences thing but....seriously dude? I mean, I suppose it could be that he cares more about inner beauty and all, but how this has been conveyed to me by a third party I have no reason to doubt *runs out of breath*. Ahem, based on what I've heard it has nothing to do with inner beauty and everything to do with "MUST HAVE GIRLFRIEND".
Anyways, I am fighting off a stomach bug and stressing about the future so au revoir.
Saturday, February 2, 2013
My fibro is flaring. Like...ALL the time. It's the hazard of living where I am. I am on the edge of exhaustion constantly. I have to be careful driving home, because I'm half-afraid I'll fall asleep at the wheel. And I'm taking a foreign language class. Online. This is the class that is suffering the most from my current state, the others require less of me or something IDK. But Korean? GOOD GOD it is suffering. My teacher is extremely nice, but being nice can't help me in forcing my brain to kick into gear. I just stare at my homework and go duuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. I took this class because I really WANTED to (and I wanted to before I started getting back into kdramas and such), so the fact that I currently feel so apathetic about it is frustrating.
But I was talking about escapism. Which is related.
So this year I took up the Goodreads reading challenge. I said I'd read 500 books, which is TOTALLY doable with the way I read. I figured I'd fall behind during the quarter and catch up on break. That's not what happened. It's during the quarter and I'm six books ahead on my reading goal. Because all my brain (and body) wants to do is curl up in bed and read, only shifting for the pain. So I'm catching all my math up at the last minute, BSing my way through a 200 level communications class, and totally fucking up my Korean class.
Considering I'm trying to get into a decent university and one of the majors I'm going for is Linguistics...This is discouraging. I know it's not that I'm not interested in the language, I still like it. I know it's not because I'm lazy because I'm working my ass off. I'm doing classes and conversation again, only now conversation includes four partners (one is more theoretical, but that's a whole 'nother rant) and two conversation groups. A week. I'm maintaining okay, but I'm fast getting to the point where I can't pretend anymore in Korean. I just can't think.
And right now? I hurt. I hurt and I want to crawl into bed and into a brain candy book that will give my brain cavities. I have to memorize two dialogues and learn all the Sino-Korean numbers, something I couldn't manage last quarter at all. I have to do this by Tuesday. *opens romance novel*
Saturday, January 26, 2013
So there's a new international student. Well, okay, there's more than one new one, but there's one in particular that I have an inexplicable problem with. He makes me uncomfortable. I don't know why. In a group setting it's not too bad, but when I'm alone with him I feel...uncomfortable. I cannot get more specific than that, and I've tried. I'm not scared, I don't think he's untrustworthy. I just am not comfortable being alone with the guy.
I thought maybe it was because he was kind of aggressive about introducing himself. I mean, not aggressive in a violent way or...I don't know. Not aggressive in a physical way. I suppose insistent would be a better word. Which is why I shoved that to the wayside. I don't think it's his insistence, or at least, not JUST his insistence.
My brother was like "Maybe you like him!" but I don't think that's the case. I mean, I've liked people before and it didn't feel like this. I could feel uncomfortable around them, but it was more my awkwardness than anything to do with them. And this definitely has to do with him.
The trouble I'm having is this: Is this a rational or irrational thing? I mean, I don't want to ignore my instincts if they're trying to tell me something, but I also don't want to give someone a bum rap because they've triggered something in my wonky chemistry. The thing is...even when it IS an irrational feeling, it's based somewhat on a rational trigger. Like past experience, y'know? If a person reminds me of another person I had a really bad experience with then my brain will send up red flags without telling me why. Then I figure it out and it's fine. But I honestly can't in this case. And it's frustrating.
I guess I mostly just wanted to moan and complain about not knowing why I feel the way I do sometimes >-<.
Friday, January 18, 2013
I did not go to a bar for karaoke. But I did go to karaoke. I was in a small room with 13 other people and I sang my heart out as well as "encouraging" (FINE "bullying") a couple non-participants into doing one song.
I went to a bar with a friend for some live music. It was fantastic. I didn't join in the dancing because FIBROSUCKS, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.
I've danced in public at a part TWICE. In fact, I got the party going when no one else would get on the dance floor. That's right, I started dancing (with enthusiasm, not skill) and when no one joined me I started dragging friends on the dance floor. It was followed by a rather uncomfortable almost-lapdance, but even that gave me a new funny story to tell.
I'm making plans to go to Emerald City ComiCon in a couple months with at least one friend, probably two. I've decided that I don't care if I ever go to a convention alone, because life is more fun with friends.
One of those friends and I are planning a bit of an ultimate cosplay. It may not work out, but the planning is a blast.
Another friend and I are going to a comedy show by one of my fave stand-up guys in April. Not maybe, ARE. As in she's buying my ticket as a birthday present :).
I've been getting bunches of 4.0s at school.
I have made new friends. I have made new plans. I am conquering my world one obstacle at a time.
Thursday, January 10, 2013
This quarter is better, because, even though I'm still having mopey days, I pretty much only have to deal with the fibro. I'm not up and rabidly cheerful, but I'm far from depressed. I'm able to go out the door with waaaay less fear than last quarter. I'm really tired tho, because the fibro is not subsiding. And my mouth hurts because of the dental surgery I need and can't afford. And my lower body hurts because I have to keep walking on it even tho it hurts. And my back hurts because it's an asshole.
I started to vlog about the fibro stuff, but it was just too goddamn depressing. Who wants to get online just to say "Guess what? Life still sucks!"
Well, it doesn't suck that bad. Could be a lot worse. There's a lot going right. But my physical well-being is not one of the things going right. It's one of the things going crap.
I think I can still keep my grades up. I just need to make sure I don't over extend myself.
Since my mental state is better I'm trying to cut out (or at least down on) the energy drinks. If I'm going to save up to go to Arizona I need to shave off extra expenditure wherever I can. And since it's looking like I won't need to self-medicate with excessive amounts of caffeine... Looks like it's me and oolong to get me through the day. *sigh* I really wish coffee didn't bother my digestive tract the way it does.
Trying to be better about taking food with me. As in better food. That might actually have some nutritional value. I'm trying to keep small servings that fit into my bag easily, because this quarter going to my car between classes just is not that easy. Maybe I'll learn to make bento boxes.
Vaguely worried about wearing out my welcome with friends, but I think that's more that I'm just uncomfortable in general about asking people for help. Hopefully this doesn't back fire.
I'm going to try and get to sleep now. My anxiety and depression is a lot better, but getting the crap out of my brain and onto digital paper always does me a world of good. Crossing my fingers for sweet, restful dreams.
Sunday, January 6, 2013
I'd intended to study Korean during the break. That did not happen. At all. Instead I soaked in the comfortable waters of escapism. I've attempted to read nothing but brain candy. Well, really, my brain demanded it and who was I to deny its pleas? That sentence looks off for some reason.
So I'm anxious for the new quarter. I'm anxious for my university application (when I make it). I'm anxious about gas money. I'm anxious about financial aid for university. I'm anxious about my schedule for conversation group and so on. I'm anxious about dealing with my family...
In spite of all the things I am anxious for I'm content. Probably because my brain is in a figurative sugar coma from all the brain candy it has been consuming. My brain is also trying to get me to write a romance novel. I blame the brain candy.
It's not that I've never had that urge before when in brain candy mode; every time I'm in brain candy mode my brain says "Duuuuuuuuuude, we should totally write a romance novel! It'll be fuuuuuuuuuun!!" So, okay, maybe the brain candy is less candy and more pot...or something...I don't know enough about drugs to know that. So we'll stick with "candy". But, yeah, my brain usually *does* do that when in brain candy mode, but this time is different. As in kept me up at night different. I've managed to put my brain off by writing out character descriptions. Then edited them. Then wrote a new one...but the fact remains that writing romance is probably beyond me. I mean...sex scenes? o.O
I don't know why I'm blogging. I fell asleep around seven or eight and woke up at two am. So there's that. I ramblerambleramble on.
I also plot. But blogging about plotting is best left for coherent times.
I want macaroni and cheese.