Beginnings

So I've had my first couple of classes and HOLY SHIT THIS UNIVERSITY IS INTIMIDATINGLY LARGE. As in the number of attendees is a couple hundred more than the population of the CITY my community college was in. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. I kind of was aware of this, but being aware and suddenly realizing how many people are actually there is a whoooooole 'nother ballgame.
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.

Oh the places your brain will go

My fundraiser ( https://fundrazr.com/stories/d4mRzc ) has been distressingly disappointing. If it weren't for the girlfriend of a friend I would be screwed. Thankfully, in spite of a lack of money or caring (guess which one the crazysauce tends towards thinking it is?) I have still got the most expensive part covered. She gave me a desktop computer and monitor that she is no longer using and he gave me a new keyboard and mouse. I don't have the money for some of the other things I REALLY need for this potential job (Like, y'know, a PHONE for the dedicated phone line.) but I have the desktop. And that is good. I don't know for sure that I'll get this job, but I fulfill all but one of their preferred qualifications, so I'm hopeful.
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.

Grief

Someone I know died yesterday. She was 36. I don't know if I would say we were really close friends, but we were comfortable talking to each other about most anything. I was there to cheer her up through divorce, custody battle, and just life in general. And she always made me smile. We shared a pretty awesome taste in friends. We were Whovians together, and whenever I saw a cute Tardis dress I'd send her link. I don't know who I'll send it to now.
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.

Pondering crazy

My crazy swells and falls, waxes and wanes. It's a constant part of my thoughts, mind, soul, identity. It's an integral part of how I interact with the world around me, for both good and ill. My crazy allows me to experience life in a unique fashion that only my fellow crazies can hope to comprehend. But even my fellow crazies cannot fully understand what it means to me. The ecstasy of being is incomprehensible, unknowable, infinite, awe inspiring, beyond words, beyond thought, beyond reason, even were we able to exchange thoughts I would not be able to fully convey it. Because it just...is. Every moment of my life, every breath, it is all...imperfect perfection. It's not easy, it is in fact very hard (that's what she said). But how would I trade it for a stunted way of living? For that's what normality would be for me, barren. I've only ever lived in this state of bizarrity, of otherness, if I were to suddenly be sane my world would be empty. The universes inside my mind create a pleasing border that encompasses the world around me. Others hear me speak of snippets of experience, and perhaps it's bad, unsettling, panic inducing at the time, but when they express sympathy...When they express sympathy I have to admit that, in my heart of hearts, the depths of my mind, all that goes through it is "You feel sorry for me? Oh, sweetie, you don't know what life is until you've embraced it fully because you don't know what the next moment may bring!" Yes, sometimes my brain thinks it's being chased by zombies, or serial killers, or evil of one stripe or another. And yes, that can be frightening. Extremely. But in the midst of those moments I can laugh at the insanity of my own brain, and when the crazy passes I take a breath of the most invigorating air, figurative or otherwise, that can be experienced. Adrenaline junkies might have a chance of understanding me, or poets who glimpse the divine. But all I can tell you is that even in the midst of panic, anxiety, depression, I know that my moment of bliss is coming. I know that I will wake up one morning, blink, and realize that the bad has subsided and I will breathe deeply, freely, joyfully...and I will live so completely in that moment that I will experience heaven.
Never pity me, even though I often pity you.

Oh Life, why are you so...you?

It's been awhile since I last posted. We had a looooong drive back from Kentucky and the friendship managed to survive. We didn't have internet for a bit and just got it back today. So that's a yay. What's not such a yay is my brain. Yay.
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.

Resisting the urge to maim

Tom is lucky to be alive.
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.
Bullshit.
You can just IMAGINE how much I'm looking forward to the trip back :/

Comfort zones are overrated

I'm in Kentucky right now. My Tom and Wendy, their five month old (teething) daughter, Wendy's 12 year old daughter, their smaller dog, and myself drove from SW Arizona to NE Kentucky in 2 days. We are not sane. It was a tough drive and there were actually a fair number of triggers thrown around for ALL of us, but we survived. It was a close shave for Tom (so many places to hide the body on a trip like this), but he still survived.
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.