And a new one on the horizon, about to begin.
Okay, well in approximately 12 hours and 20 minutes, give or take (my time of course).
I've contemplated what to do with this blog.
It's that time where I think, maybe I should archive it.
Well, archive all the posts and start fresh.
Then I think, no...leave this and start a whole new one.
Then I think how attached I am to this one and do I really want to put it in a box.
Yes, no, maybe....I dunno.
I go through this phase every so often.
I mean, after all, I've had this blog for ten years!
It's seen me through some shit, and then some.
No, I can't part with it. And I don't think I can archive the posts.
But at the same time, I want something fresh. So maybe I'll just redo the layout or theme.
I haven't decided, my brain is still too muddle with "the plague".
Yep, I've been down for a week now. The creeping crud that I managed to dodge from
everyone finally caught up with me on Christmas Eve.
I skipped going to see the lights so that I could hopefully recuperate for the next day.
But that didn't happen. I was pretty much down and out. I went to see the kiddos open
gifts and then came back home and went promptly to bed. Where I stayed for the next couple of days.
I've finally managed to come out of the cave (my room) the last couple of days.
But the cough just won't quit, which is exhausting.
I'll give it a few more days, then I'll think about going to the doctor.
There's not much to be done, I don't think.
Fluids and fluids and rest and more fluids. Which I am already doing.
I've been thinking about my Word of the Year for a bit now.
I decided early on that for the first time I am keeping my word for a second year.
I had chosen SACRED as my word for 2019, and I didn't follow with it as I had hoped to.
And so I am going to carry it into 2020.
BUT....
I am choosing a second word.
This one came to me while reading a promo email for some class/workshop thing.
You know the ones....throw your money at me because I have all the answers and take my class
so I can show you all my secrets kinda thing.
I skimmed over the email, as one does with these types of things that I don't have money to
spend on anyway.
But one word kept jumping out at me.
ALIGN(MENT).
I toyed with it. Mulled it over.
Chewed on it. Thought some more.
It seems right. It seems a good second word.
To align with the Sacred.
To align with my desires.
To come into Sacred Alignment with:
*Myself
*My Art
*My Writing
*My Path in life
*My Photography
*My Beliefs
*My Wants, Desires, Needs.
It sounds good in theory.
But putting it into practice, well...that's another story.
I haven't come up with a plan yet.
I had intended to, but the "Plague" had other plans and derailed me temporarily.
I want 2020 to be different.
I don't want to keep repeating the same patterns over and over.
I don't want to keep falling into the same traps.
So here's to new ways and new things, new thoughts and new adventures.
May we all have a happy, healthy, and prosperous new year.
TO 2020!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tuesday, December 31, 2019
Sunday, December 22, 2019
Solstice and Yule Blessings
I was torn between posting yesterday or today.
Of course, I could have done both...but ya know.
Yesterday was the Winter Solstice
I had the greatest intentions, but instead all I made was a batch of
dough for Kolachy.
Today, as I understand it, is the beginning of the Yule season.
I spent it trying to wrap up the last bits of Christmas prep.
We've whittled the festivities of the day down to gathering earlier in
the day to exchange gifts for just the kiddos. We have a light fare of
snacks and sandwiches. Which then leaves everyone to go off and
do their thing with extended family or just be with their own. And
then the littles get the rest of the day to have fun with their gifts.
I'll be tossing together a meal in the crockpot to cook whilst we
are exchanging gifts for us to have that evening. A new to me
recipe, but it sounds good and easy enough that I can't mess it up.
I'll try to remember to take pictures.
We're also keeping this christmas on the short side because Sister #3's
pupper was hit by a car a couple of weeks ago and is in the process of
recovering from a break in his spine. It was touch and go that weekend
but the guy's a fighter and pulled through. He is on as much bed rest that
you can limit a dog to. He can't walk right now, his back legs are still out
of service. But the vet was hopeful that with rest he might regain use of them.
The fucktard that hit him, didn't even stop. They had to have hit him on purpose
because of where he was at the time and he landed in a drainage ditch.
By the time Sister got out the door and crossed the front yard, the car was well
down the road. The had to know they hit him, he's no little dog! I hope they
meet up with Karma one day and she gives them hell for what they did.
The saddest part is that the poor boy doesn't understand why he can't wag
his tail. He looks at it like, "my wiggles is broken." He has only managed to
move it once since the accident.
So if you could spare Poe some good vibes, it would be deeply appreciated.
I was going to write about my word of the year and things of that nature too,
but I think I'll leave that for later this week.
Blessings to you and yours!
Of course, I could have done both...but ya know.
Yesterday was the Winter Solstice
I had the greatest intentions, but instead all I made was a batch of
dough for Kolachy.
Today, as I understand it, is the beginning of the Yule season.
I spent it trying to wrap up the last bits of Christmas prep.
We've whittled the festivities of the day down to gathering earlier in
the day to exchange gifts for just the kiddos. We have a light fare of
snacks and sandwiches. Which then leaves everyone to go off and
do their thing with extended family or just be with their own. And
then the littles get the rest of the day to have fun with their gifts.
I'll be tossing together a meal in the crockpot to cook whilst we
are exchanging gifts for us to have that evening. A new to me
recipe, but it sounds good and easy enough that I can't mess it up.
I'll try to remember to take pictures.
We're also keeping this christmas on the short side because Sister #3's
pupper was hit by a car a couple of weeks ago and is in the process of
recovering from a break in his spine. It was touch and go that weekend
but the guy's a fighter and pulled through. He is on as much bed rest that
you can limit a dog to. He can't walk right now, his back legs are still out
of service. But the vet was hopeful that with rest he might regain use of them.
The fucktard that hit him, didn't even stop. They had to have hit him on purpose
because of where he was at the time and he landed in a drainage ditch.
By the time Sister got out the door and crossed the front yard, the car was well
down the road. The had to know they hit him, he's no little dog! I hope they
meet up with Karma one day and she gives them hell for what they did.
The saddest part is that the poor boy doesn't understand why he can't wag
his tail. He looks at it like, "my wiggles is broken." He has only managed to
move it once since the accident.
So if you could spare Poe some good vibes, it would be deeply appreciated.
I was going to write about my word of the year and things of that nature too,
but I think I'll leave that for later this week.
Blessings to you and yours!
Monday, December 16, 2019
Where Did The Year Go?
Never mind the year!
Where did the decade go???
I'm having a hell of a time grasping that it is the end of another decade.
It just doesn't seem possible.
So much has changed in the last ten years.
So much is different.
I can't even say if anything is the same as it was.
If you would have told me ten years that I would find myself flying
2200 miles away from a life I was slowly drowning in because of a man
who slowly whittled away my self esteem and self worth. That I would find
the courage to pick myself and try to find myself. (I'm still working on the finding
myself. Lots of shit to unlearn and weed through.)
I would have told you that you were crazy as fuck!
But I did leave.
Much to my own surprise.
And I'm sure the surprise of others.
They probably have deemed me crazy because of it.
At the very least, they've been judging me ever since even if I haven't heard about it.
How could they not? It's what people do.
Well...now I'm at a point in my life where I say if that's what floats your boat, go for it.
Unless you've been in my shoes, you don't get to have a say really. But if you're going
to, I can't stop you.
I'm still trying to wrap my head around that Christmas is in 9 days.
The new year in 15/16 days.
I've never been good at that counting days until crap.
I guess it's NYE in 15 days?
Either way, I can't grasp it. It seems unreal.
It just doesn't seem possible.
But here we are.
Where did the decade go???
I'm having a hell of a time grasping that it is the end of another decade.
It just doesn't seem possible.
So much has changed in the last ten years.
So much is different.
I can't even say if anything is the same as it was.
If you would have told me ten years that I would find myself flying
2200 miles away from a life I was slowly drowning in because of a man
who slowly whittled away my self esteem and self worth. That I would find
the courage to pick myself and try to find myself. (I'm still working on the finding
myself. Lots of shit to unlearn and weed through.)
I would have told you that you were crazy as fuck!
But I did leave.
Much to my own surprise.
And I'm sure the surprise of others.
They probably have deemed me crazy because of it.
At the very least, they've been judging me ever since even if I haven't heard about it.
How could they not? It's what people do.
Well...now I'm at a point in my life where I say if that's what floats your boat, go for it.
Unless you've been in my shoes, you don't get to have a say really. But if you're going
to, I can't stop you.
I'm still trying to wrap my head around that Christmas is in 9 days.
The new year in 15/16 days.
I've never been good at that counting days until crap.
I guess it's NYE in 15 days?
Either way, I can't grasp it. It seems unreal.
It just doesn't seem possible.
But here we are.
Friday, December 6, 2019
December Reflections
Maybe it's a little too early to be doing a reflections type post.
I mean it is only the 6th after all.
But here I am doing it, and here it is.
Looking back somewhat over this year and realizing all the shit I didn't do
once again. The intentions were there, but they just didn't manifest the
way I had intended.
Take for example my idea to do 50 x 50. 50 paintings, by my 50th birthday.
When I was slapped with the inspiration stick to do that, I had about 88 days or
so to do it in. Then the next thing I knew, my birthday was around the corner and
I was behind before I even got started. Feels like an EPIC fail!
I intended to commit to writing more this year.
I intended to commit to painting and art journaling more this year.
I intended to commit to working more with my camera this year.
And some where in there, I intended to work through my yarn stash. Complete unfinished
projects. Use up the odd skein here and there. Also out the window was the Granny Square
a day thing. Or was that last year? I think that was last year. Maybe I was intending to revive
that this year? I dunno, but it didn't happen either.
I have personal pillows I was supposed to make for the littles. The material is still sitting
unopened! I have one that I was supposed to make (it's at least pinned) 8 years ago for someone who is now 16! I'm not sure she'll even want it now.
I intended to create everyday or near enough to everyday. AND..........that didn't happen either.
I feel like I have just plain failed all around.
AND why? WHY do I feel like that?
I'll tell you.
GUILT!
Yep, guilt.
I feel guilty for wanting to paint, write, crochet, (insert creative thing here).
I feel guilty for wanting to take the time to do the things.
I feel like if I do those things, people will get mad at me for doing them and not doing
something else or what they think I should be doing.
Then there is fear.
Fear of making crap.
Fear of writing crap.
Fear of making or writing something good.
Fear that others will get mad at me for doing the things I love.
And then, there is doubt.
Doubt that anything I make or do is good enough.
Whenever I set out to do a creative thing, I immediately begin to feel guilty for doing it.
The fear and doubt are always lingering there somewhere.
But it's that guilt....OH BOY!
It comes in like "Who the fuck do you think you are? Painting and shit. Or Writing and shit.
There's other things you should be doing." Not really, but you know how that goes.
And so I end up doing nothing because I get so overwhelmed by guilt, fear, and doubt.
I can't keep going on like that.
I want to have a creative life.
I want to paint and write, and do other things that make me happy.
So I really need to overcome this guilt shit.
One thing I'm thinking of is since I failed the 50x50, is to maybe do 50 in 50.
Do 50 paintings before I turn 51. It can be done, I mean I have like ten months. Right?
I want to try being more committed to getting my story out of my head and onto paper.
So I want to write more often than just April, July, and November.
Photography, well...part of that is I need to get out of my head in thinking I can't do anything
good with the lens I have. I have to learn to work with the one I've got.
With all of these things, I really need to get out of my own damn head and out of my own way.
I have to learn to make do with what I have and use what I have on hand.
I don't know if or when I'll ever have a "studio space". So I have to learn to make do with
my little corner in my bedroom dedicated to creating.
When I am in my space and in the zone, I'd really like to not have my bubble invaded but
I can't always have what I want. I have trouble with setting and keeping boundaries. Maybe if I can
invent a "studio time" where I am at the easel or at the art table, that I am not interrupted just for the sake of "whatcha doin'?"
I have to learn to carve out and set "studio time" and stick to it.
Unless I am going out during that time or have an appointment, or should happen to be under the weather, then the time would be rescheduled. Otherwise, I need to pick the time when I want to
do my art and go do it during that time segment.
This all sounds great in theory. It's the implementation that is tricky.
Cuz you know, feeling guilty and shit.
I think I have some more reflecting to do and some planning to do as well.
I need to figure out how to live this creative life I want so badly.
I mean it is only the 6th after all.
But here I am doing it, and here it is.
Looking back somewhat over this year and realizing all the shit I didn't do
once again. The intentions were there, but they just didn't manifest the
way I had intended.
Take for example my idea to do 50 x 50. 50 paintings, by my 50th birthday.
When I was slapped with the inspiration stick to do that, I had about 88 days or
so to do it in. Then the next thing I knew, my birthday was around the corner and
I was behind before I even got started. Feels like an EPIC fail!
I intended to commit to writing more this year.
I intended to commit to painting and art journaling more this year.
I intended to commit to working more with my camera this year.
And some where in there, I intended to work through my yarn stash. Complete unfinished
projects. Use up the odd skein here and there. Also out the window was the Granny Square
a day thing. Or was that last year? I think that was last year. Maybe I was intending to revive
that this year? I dunno, but it didn't happen either.
I have personal pillows I was supposed to make for the littles. The material is still sitting
unopened! I have one that I was supposed to make (it's at least pinned) 8 years ago for someone who is now 16! I'm not sure she'll even want it now.
I intended to create everyday or near enough to everyday. AND..........that didn't happen either.
I feel like I have just plain failed all around.
AND why? WHY do I feel like that?
I'll tell you.
GUILT!
Yep, guilt.
I feel guilty for wanting to paint, write, crochet, (insert creative thing here).
I feel guilty for wanting to take the time to do the things.
I feel like if I do those things, people will get mad at me for doing them and not doing
something else or what they think I should be doing.
Then there is fear.
Fear of making crap.
Fear of writing crap.
Fear of making or writing something good.
Fear that others will get mad at me for doing the things I love.
And then, there is doubt.
Doubt that anything I make or do is good enough.
Whenever I set out to do a creative thing, I immediately begin to feel guilty for doing it.
The fear and doubt are always lingering there somewhere.
But it's that guilt....OH BOY!
It comes in like "Who the fuck do you think you are? Painting and shit. Or Writing and shit.
There's other things you should be doing." Not really, but you know how that goes.
And so I end up doing nothing because I get so overwhelmed by guilt, fear, and doubt.
I can't keep going on like that.
I want to have a creative life.
I want to paint and write, and do other things that make me happy.
So I really need to overcome this guilt shit.
One thing I'm thinking of is since I failed the 50x50, is to maybe do 50 in 50.
Do 50 paintings before I turn 51. It can be done, I mean I have like ten months. Right?
I want to try being more committed to getting my story out of my head and onto paper.
So I want to write more often than just April, July, and November.
Photography, well...part of that is I need to get out of my head in thinking I can't do anything
good with the lens I have. I have to learn to work with the one I've got.
With all of these things, I really need to get out of my own damn head and out of my own way.
I have to learn to make do with what I have and use what I have on hand.
I don't know if or when I'll ever have a "studio space". So I have to learn to make do with
my little corner in my bedroom dedicated to creating.
When I am in my space and in the zone, I'd really like to not have my bubble invaded but
I can't always have what I want. I have trouble with setting and keeping boundaries. Maybe if I can
invent a "studio time" where I am at the easel or at the art table, that I am not interrupted just for the sake of "whatcha doin'?"
I have to learn to carve out and set "studio time" and stick to it.
Unless I am going out during that time or have an appointment, or should happen to be under the weather, then the time would be rescheduled. Otherwise, I need to pick the time when I want to
do my art and go do it during that time segment.
This all sounds great in theory. It's the implementation that is tricky.
Cuz you know, feeling guilty and shit.
I think I have some more reflecting to do and some planning to do as well.
I need to figure out how to live this creative life I want so badly.
Sunday, December 1, 2019
Hello December!
So
December is here.
AND
We are FINALLY getting the snow we've bee promised.
Fourth storm is the charm I guess.
We've got about almost 2 inches and counting I'd say.
The magpies are visiting still.
One is up on what's left of the fallen tree eating the suet, while that other is coming in for a landing. There's about
6 or 8 of them out there rotating. Funny how they won't share the spot.
The snow is also falling again. We could possibly see up to
six inches they say. But, I will believe that when I see it,
Family gathering went well.
It was a peaceful gathering, which was a good thing.
Food was good.
Even the kids did well, until almost the end. But they were getting tired and it was expected.
In other news....
I pushed really hard on Friday to write as much as I could.
I really wanted to breathe yesterday, and not have to worry about writing if I could avoid it.
I knew I would be totally wiped out after everyone finally went home. My body was aching all over by they time every thing was cleaned up, put away, and everyone gone home.
I only needed 4822 words. So I pushed hard all day on Friday to reach it. And I made it!
Ended NaNo this year with 50483 words.
Neither story is near done. The fantasy one is just barely getting started.
But I won my 3rd NaNo, my 14th year of doing it.
Going to take today to recuperate from yesterday.
Drink tea, eat left overs.
And enjoy watching the magpies and the snow.
Happy First Day of December!
December is here.
AND
We are FINALLY getting the snow we've bee promised.
Fourth storm is the charm I guess.
We've got about almost 2 inches and counting I'd say.
The magpies are visiting still.
One is up on what's left of the fallen tree eating the suet, while that other is coming in for a landing. There's about
6 or 8 of them out there rotating. Funny how they won't share the spot.
The snow is also falling again. We could possibly see up to
six inches they say. But, I will believe that when I see it,
Family gathering went well.
It was a peaceful gathering, which was a good thing.
Food was good.
Even the kids did well, until almost the end. But they were getting tired and it was expected.
In other news....
I pushed really hard on Friday to write as much as I could.
I really wanted to breathe yesterday, and not have to worry about writing if I could avoid it.
I knew I would be totally wiped out after everyone finally went home. My body was aching all over by they time every thing was cleaned up, put away, and everyone gone home.
I only needed 4822 words. So I pushed hard all day on Friday to reach it. And I made it!
Ended NaNo this year with 50483 words.
Neither story is near done. The fantasy one is just barely getting started.
But I won my 3rd NaNo, my 14th year of doing it.
Going to take today to recuperate from yesterday.
Drink tea, eat left overs.
And enjoy watching the magpies and the snow.
Happy First Day of December!
Friday, November 29, 2019
So Close, I Can Taste It!
The finish line.
It is "RIGHT THERE"!!
So damn close, but still seemingly so far away.
It can come to a screeching halt without warning.
And that is what I am afraid of.
That the words will not come.
There are two days left to NaNo.
Today and Tomorrow.
Tomorrow morning is tied with getting ready for our feast
Tomorrow afternoon is tied up with eating and *gasp* socializing.
That leaves me with tomorrow evening if I do not finish or get close to
finishing today.
I only need 4822 words total. Or if I do half and half, then 2411 today
and the same tomorrow.
I was excited to write some new stuff for the novel last night.
I want to create a gnome or some gnomes that become blade smiths.
By Gnomes, think World of Warcraft types as far as appearance goes.
Though, a Garden Gnome being a master blade smith would be rather
amusing. .OOH new thought, the Garden Gnome is the trainer who teaches
my WOW type Gnome how to do the craft. That would be hilarious I think.
Well it would to me anyway.
This is all something that I was not planning on. Another one of those ideas
that came out of the blue that I was trying to hash out. Do you know, if you
Google "bladesmith gnomes or some combination string of the like", you end up
with either nothing relateable OR you get dwarves. Dwarves, I had not planned
on either, but apparently they are going to at least get a mention for right now.
I love the new ideas, but they are so far from my original idea oh so many years ago.
Not a bad thing, evolving is good. In this case. I think.
It just means more research and exploring down the line.
I do not want to get too heavily wrapped in the research rabbit hole because
that will just blow my writing words right out of the water. And I can't have that.
Not now.
My biggest concern after reaching my end goal for November, is that I will
fall right back into the trap I have every year and that is that come December,
I stop writing. Then it just sits on the back burner, forgotten until Camp NaNo
comes around in April. Then forgotten again until July. Rinse and repeat into
the following November. If I can sit my ass down and write shitty words
every day for a month, why then can't I keep going? That has been my dilemma
since 2005. Only back then, there was no Camp NaNo.
Back then though, the problem was the nagging from the not yet ex. That and the
why are you writing that when you should be writing this instead. I think that
was more my pit fall than anything else. He was "supportive" in an undermining
sort of way. I do not have that now.
Now it is dogs and cats. And The Little Monster or the Little Bug or both at the same
time. It is errands and life that has to be lived during the day where distractions run
amok. Sometimes it is the pain is too bad to do much, though other than my hands and my
hips or lower back, it has been deal - with - able. I know I could have just said tolerable.
But my brain paused and could not find that word in that moment lol.
Today writing will be interrupted by pre prepping foods for tomorrow.
There is the five layer salad to make.
And some other salad. Apple pie is baking. There might be some
pumpkin banana bread to make still, if there is enough pumpkin left over.
Prep the sweet potato casserole. And the green bean casserole, leaving off
the fried onions until tomorrow. It is not "a lot" by any means, but it is
enough to cause pause in writing.
But when all that is done, I think I will find another ambient video on
You Tube and put on my headphones and get some of those words done.
If you are braving the roads and the crowds today for those sales,
Please Please do be careful out there.
It is "RIGHT THERE"!!
So damn close, but still seemingly so far away.
It can come to a screeching halt without warning.
And that is what I am afraid of.
That the words will not come.
There are two days left to NaNo.
Today and Tomorrow.
Tomorrow morning is tied with getting ready for our feast
Tomorrow afternoon is tied up with eating and *gasp* socializing.
That leaves me with tomorrow evening if I do not finish or get close to
finishing today.
I only need 4822 words total. Or if I do half and half, then 2411 today
and the same tomorrow.
I was excited to write some new stuff for the novel last night.
I want to create a gnome or some gnomes that become blade smiths.
By Gnomes, think World of Warcraft types as far as appearance goes.
Though, a Garden Gnome being a master blade smith would be rather
amusing. .OOH new thought, the Garden Gnome is the trainer who teaches
my WOW type Gnome how to do the craft. That would be hilarious I think.
Well it would to me anyway.
This is all something that I was not planning on. Another one of those ideas
that came out of the blue that I was trying to hash out. Do you know, if you
Google "bladesmith gnomes or some combination string of the like", you end up
with either nothing relateable OR you get dwarves. Dwarves, I had not planned
on either, but apparently they are going to at least get a mention for right now.
I love the new ideas, but they are so far from my original idea oh so many years ago.
Not a bad thing, evolving is good. In this case. I think.
It just means more research and exploring down the line.
I do not want to get too heavily wrapped in the research rabbit hole because
that will just blow my writing words right out of the water. And I can't have that.
Not now.
My biggest concern after reaching my end goal for November, is that I will
fall right back into the trap I have every year and that is that come December,
I stop writing. Then it just sits on the back burner, forgotten until Camp NaNo
comes around in April. Then forgotten again until July. Rinse and repeat into
the following November. If I can sit my ass down and write shitty words
every day for a month, why then can't I keep going? That has been my dilemma
since 2005. Only back then, there was no Camp NaNo.
Back then though, the problem was the nagging from the not yet ex. That and the
why are you writing that when you should be writing this instead. I think that
was more my pit fall than anything else. He was "supportive" in an undermining
sort of way. I do not have that now.
Now it is dogs and cats. And The Little Monster or the Little Bug or both at the same
time. It is errands and life that has to be lived during the day where distractions run
amok. Sometimes it is the pain is too bad to do much, though other than my hands and my
hips or lower back, it has been deal - with - able. I know I could have just said tolerable.
But my brain paused and could not find that word in that moment lol.
Today writing will be interrupted by pre prepping foods for tomorrow.
There is the five layer salad to make.
And some other salad. Apple pie is baking. There might be some
pumpkin banana bread to make still, if there is enough pumpkin left over.
Prep the sweet potato casserole. And the green bean casserole, leaving off
the fried onions until tomorrow. It is not "a lot" by any means, but it is
enough to cause pause in writing.
But when all that is done, I think I will find another ambient video on
You Tube and put on my headphones and get some of those words done.
If you are braving the roads and the crowds today for those sales,
Please Please do be careful out there.
Thursday, November 28, 2019
Happy Thanksgiving And Other Stuffs
Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!
Hope your day is going well and that tummies are full.
Our celebratory dinner will be on Saturday. That is when everyone is
off of work collectively. Today and tomorrow we will be prepping pies and a few
side dishes. Someone else cooks the turkey and brings it, so that frees up a lot of
room in our oven. Though I do miss making a turkey.....Sometimes lol
Still plugging away at the writing. As of this moment, I need about 8500 words to win.
To make it easier for my math skills, I will round it to say 9000, which means 3000 words
a day for the next three days. I can do it, if I really push myself and use a lot of run on sentences lol.
I made my first chicken soup of the season and boy was it good!
I am usually pretty picky about how I make it and how it tastes.
I have been trying to make Polish chicken soup for a long time now and
I fail every time at it. My broth, even though it might taste really good, turns out not as
clear as it should for that type. Yesterday was the closest I ever came to a clear broth.
Then I shredded the chicken and suddenly there was not enough broth. Damn it!
That is almost always my other problem. Never enough broth. Oh well it was tasty and that is
what was most important.
We are currently awaiting the third of the snow storms they have predicted.
So far for us here, the storms have fizzled out and were duds.
We barely got a dusting that was gone by about ten o'clock.
We heard for the first time the other day that it is the Owyhee Mountains that
is actually keeping us from getting the two or more inches we were said to get.
They act like a barrier and so when the storm hits them, it slows it way down or it
fizzles out.
I am disappointed because I was actually looking forward to some snow.
It is getting really hard to sit by and say nothing about that situation I wrote about the other day.
Every day is something new. For example, the person I care about came down with a terrible
migraine and what was a possible sinus infection. So they went to the doctor to make sure and thankfully there is no infection. Just a combination sinus pressure headache and migraine. They were made to feel guilty for not picking up baby afterwards to take care of her.
Baby's daddy had minor surgery last week, but he said he and baby were doing fine.
He understood about the migraine and was not about to impose. Baby's momma was not
so understanding. Then there was some shit she bitched about yesterday that was
unnecessary as well. Again making this person feel like crap.
I swear, I do not know how much longer I can hold my tongue here.
If she says shit on Saturday, I just might go off.
I might burn some bridges in the process, but something needs to be said.
It is like she is the only one with problems, No one else can have anything going
on in their life. No one can get sick or feel under the weather but her.
Her life is perfection and every one else's life is shit and boring, in her opinion.
She finds fault with everything and everyone. It is exhausting and frustrating.
I have lived this before. I have been on the receiving end. It sucks.
I also have taken it laying down because I did not feel like I could
stand up for myself or fight back. I know how this feels.
I want so badly to fix it. The Scorpio in me wants so badly to call
them out on their bullshit. But I have to repeat over and over,
"Not my circus, not my monkeys." So I will stay quiet for as long as I can.
Maybe it will just blow over, but I doubt it.
Well, I guess I should see what is next on the prepping list to do.
If it is something that can wait a few, I should get to some writing.
Have safe holiday, and be careful tomorrow if you go brave the stores.
Hope your day is going well and that tummies are full.
Our celebratory dinner will be on Saturday. That is when everyone is
off of work collectively. Today and tomorrow we will be prepping pies and a few
side dishes. Someone else cooks the turkey and brings it, so that frees up a lot of
room in our oven. Though I do miss making a turkey.....Sometimes lol
Still plugging away at the writing. As of this moment, I need about 8500 words to win.
To make it easier for my math skills, I will round it to say 9000, which means 3000 words
a day for the next three days. I can do it, if I really push myself and use a lot of run on sentences lol.
I made my first chicken soup of the season and boy was it good!
I am usually pretty picky about how I make it and how it tastes.
I have been trying to make Polish chicken soup for a long time now and
I fail every time at it. My broth, even though it might taste really good, turns out not as
clear as it should for that type. Yesterday was the closest I ever came to a clear broth.
Then I shredded the chicken and suddenly there was not enough broth. Damn it!
That is almost always my other problem. Never enough broth. Oh well it was tasty and that is
what was most important.
We are currently awaiting the third of the snow storms they have predicted.
So far for us here, the storms have fizzled out and were duds.
We barely got a dusting that was gone by about ten o'clock.
We heard for the first time the other day that it is the Owyhee Mountains that
is actually keeping us from getting the two or more inches we were said to get.
They act like a barrier and so when the storm hits them, it slows it way down or it
fizzles out.
I am disappointed because I was actually looking forward to some snow.
It is getting really hard to sit by and say nothing about that situation I wrote about the other day.
Every day is something new. For example, the person I care about came down with a terrible
migraine and what was a possible sinus infection. So they went to the doctor to make sure and thankfully there is no infection. Just a combination sinus pressure headache and migraine. They were made to feel guilty for not picking up baby afterwards to take care of her.
Baby's daddy had minor surgery last week, but he said he and baby were doing fine.
He understood about the migraine and was not about to impose. Baby's momma was not
so understanding. Then there was some shit she bitched about yesterday that was
unnecessary as well. Again making this person feel like crap.
I swear, I do not know how much longer I can hold my tongue here.
If she says shit on Saturday, I just might go off.
I might burn some bridges in the process, but something needs to be said.
It is like she is the only one with problems, No one else can have anything going
on in their life. No one can get sick or feel under the weather but her.
Her life is perfection and every one else's life is shit and boring, in her opinion.
She finds fault with everything and everyone. It is exhausting and frustrating.
I have lived this before. I have been on the receiving end. It sucks.
I also have taken it laying down because I did not feel like I could
stand up for myself or fight back. I know how this feels.
I want so badly to fix it. The Scorpio in me wants so badly to call
them out on their bullshit. But I have to repeat over and over,
"Not my circus, not my monkeys." So I will stay quiet for as long as I can.
Maybe it will just blow over, but I doubt it.
Well, I guess I should see what is next on the prepping list to do.
If it is something that can wait a few, I should get to some writing.
Have safe holiday, and be careful tomorrow if you go brave the stores.
Tuesday, November 26, 2019
When People Expect More Than You Can Give
It really pains me to have to sit back and silently watch as
people take advantage of and put such demands on some one I care for.
This person already gives and gives and gives so much.
And yet for some people, it is not enough and they want, no they demand more from
this person.
Having to sit here and bite my tongue as they say is really wearing me thin.
I think part of that is because I see myself letting others take advantage of me.
When I was not allowed to have boundaries. Even now, I find it extremely
difficult to enforce my boundaries because I am so conditioned to not enforce them.
This person is expected to care for the other person's child whether they are sick
or injured or just plain exhausted. It does not matter what the person might have going
on in their life. They are just supposed to arrange their life and their schedule around
this other person's demands. And if they try to say they can't, the other person lays a
guilt trip so thick it's like you are wading knee deep in bullshit.
And then you have another person who comes and says they wish the person was
more like this other gal's mom because she takes her grandkid for like three days a week,
including nights.
I mean if you choose to have a kid or many, is it not your responsibility to make sure
you can take care of them? And if you choose to work, is it not your responsibility to
make sure you have childcare and back up care if one falls through for some reason?
Is this how it is?
Is this the reality of things?
That people having kids have these unreasonable expectations
of their extended family.
I mean, maybe I am just jaded or something.
When I had kids, I did it all alone.
Doctors appointments, shopping, caring for them.
I did not expect anyone to do anything for me or them.
Well except their father and apparently even that was unreasonable.
Because he worked you know. How dare I want him to help with his
off spring when he came home or on the weekend.
I never expected anyone to drop everything to go anywhere with me.
Or to do anything for me.
If I was sick or injured, I had to manage.
Maybe it is because I had no family around me, immediate or extended
when I had my kids. Maybe it is because I grew up knowing there was no
expectation of someone else to take care of me.
My mother was A LOT of things. And my mother fucked me royally.
But the one thing my mother did not do is expect anyone else to
take care of me. She may have resented me and hated that I existed, but
still in her own way, she took care of me. She might have been a sick
and twisted bitch, but she made sure I was taken care of and not pawned
off on the nearest family member.
I think it was a matter of I do not want her, but no one else can have her either.
Seeing people unreasonable expect another to give and give until there is nothing
left and then expect them to give some more. Seeing people give so much to
please other people and make them happy and as a result lose themselves and
are falling apart. It hurts. And the people doing the taking do not care that the one they are
taking from is hurting or ill or lost. They just take and take and take
because they feel like they are entitled to it.
And when asked do you not care how you making someone else feel with their
behavior. They say they do not care, it is how they are and people need to just
deal with it. The whole yeah I am a bitch and I know and I do not care who
I am hurting attitude sucks and is fucking cruel.
All I can do is sit by and watch because it is not my battle.
I can listen when this person needs me to. I can offer words if they want me to.
But I can't stand up for them. They have to set those boundaries themselves.
They are not mine to set.
I know, I am not really one to talk.
I still have great difficulty setting and keeping my own boundaries.
I still struggle with that. People make you feel guilty and say you are selfish for
setting boundaries and trying to stick to them.
But gods forbid you accidentally breach their boundaries, then all hell breaks loose.
I can go round and round on this with no solution.
So I think I will end my rant here.
people take advantage of and put such demands on some one I care for.
This person already gives and gives and gives so much.
And yet for some people, it is not enough and they want, no they demand more from
this person.
Having to sit here and bite my tongue as they say is really wearing me thin.
I think part of that is because I see myself letting others take advantage of me.
When I was not allowed to have boundaries. Even now, I find it extremely
difficult to enforce my boundaries because I am so conditioned to not enforce them.
This person is expected to care for the other person's child whether they are sick
or injured or just plain exhausted. It does not matter what the person might have going
on in their life. They are just supposed to arrange their life and their schedule around
this other person's demands. And if they try to say they can't, the other person lays a
guilt trip so thick it's like you are wading knee deep in bullshit.
And then you have another person who comes and says they wish the person was
more like this other gal's mom because she takes her grandkid for like three days a week,
including nights.
I mean if you choose to have a kid or many, is it not your responsibility to make sure
you can take care of them? And if you choose to work, is it not your responsibility to
make sure you have childcare and back up care if one falls through for some reason?
Is this how it is?
Is this the reality of things?
That people having kids have these unreasonable expectations
of their extended family.
I mean, maybe I am just jaded or something.
When I had kids, I did it all alone.
Doctors appointments, shopping, caring for them.
I did not expect anyone to do anything for me or them.
Well except their father and apparently even that was unreasonable.
Because he worked you know. How dare I want him to help with his
off spring when he came home or on the weekend.
I never expected anyone to drop everything to go anywhere with me.
Or to do anything for me.
If I was sick or injured, I had to manage.
Maybe it is because I had no family around me, immediate or extended
when I had my kids. Maybe it is because I grew up knowing there was no
expectation of someone else to take care of me.
My mother was A LOT of things. And my mother fucked me royally.
But the one thing my mother did not do is expect anyone else to
take care of me. She may have resented me and hated that I existed, but
still in her own way, she took care of me. She might have been a sick
and twisted bitch, but she made sure I was taken care of and not pawned
off on the nearest family member.
I think it was a matter of I do not want her, but no one else can have her either.
Seeing people unreasonable expect another to give and give until there is nothing
left and then expect them to give some more. Seeing people give so much to
please other people and make them happy and as a result lose themselves and
are falling apart. It hurts. And the people doing the taking do not care that the one they are
taking from is hurting or ill or lost. They just take and take and take
because they feel like they are entitled to it.
And when asked do you not care how you making someone else feel with their
behavior. They say they do not care, it is how they are and people need to just
deal with it. The whole yeah I am a bitch and I know and I do not care who
I am hurting attitude sucks and is fucking cruel.
All I can do is sit by and watch because it is not my battle.
I can listen when this person needs me to. I can offer words if they want me to.
But I can't stand up for them. They have to set those boundaries themselves.
They are not mine to set.
I know, I am not really one to talk.
I still have great difficulty setting and keeping my own boundaries.
I still struggle with that. People make you feel guilty and say you are selfish for
setting boundaries and trying to stick to them.
But gods forbid you accidentally breach their boundaries, then all hell breaks loose.
I can go round and round on this with no solution.
So I think I will end my rant here.
Monday, November 25, 2019
I Might Not Win This One
I have not even broken 40,000 yet.
I am getting a little bummed that I might not make it, I might not win this NaNo.
It will be close if I miss the mark I think.
These last few days of writing, even though going well are not making the numbers I need.
I need about 2500 words a day for the rest of the month to win. Not an impossibility by any means.
I did write almost 3400 the other day. It is just timing. During the day, it is not always easy to get my writing done. Most times it is the couple of hours before I go to bed where I do best. Unless I
am tired or hurting, then it cuts into my word count.
Either way, it is better than no words at all.
So how ever it ends, I am okay with it.
In other news...
I got new glasses.
My first pair in ten years.
And my eyes have changed.
A LOT!
How did they eye doctor put it? Mother Nature caught up with me and beat me with her stick. LOL.
This eye doctor is great. He has such a sense of humor.
The up side, he said my eyes and all the vessels and such were very healthy.
I passed the new test that they offer that checks peripheral vision. Not an easy test I can tell ya.
But my vision is bad enough that he recommended progressive lenses.
They are interesting to wear. That is for sure!
I picked them up today, but I need to take them back to have the frames tweaked a hair.
Otherwise they are good so far. I was worried I would not get used to them.
But I think I will be okay with them.
Oh, did I mention that I will be getting to check another thing off my bucket list?
So um...in April.
I will be going to see CHER in concert!
Oh.......My........Gosh!!!!!!!!!!
We are expecting snow for Thanksgiving.
We are actually in a Winter Weather Watch and a High Wind Watch.
I am not too thrilled about the wind one at all!
And to the fact that the high winds are supposed to hit over night tomorrow.
UGH!!!
Hopefully the wind will not be awful.
I am getting a little bummed that I might not make it, I might not win this NaNo.
It will be close if I miss the mark I think.
These last few days of writing, even though going well are not making the numbers I need.
I need about 2500 words a day for the rest of the month to win. Not an impossibility by any means.
I did write almost 3400 the other day. It is just timing. During the day, it is not always easy to get my writing done. Most times it is the couple of hours before I go to bed where I do best. Unless I
am tired or hurting, then it cuts into my word count.
Either way, it is better than no words at all.
So how ever it ends, I am okay with it.
In other news...
I got new glasses.
My first pair in ten years.
And my eyes have changed.
A LOT!
How did they eye doctor put it? Mother Nature caught up with me and beat me with her stick. LOL.
This eye doctor is great. He has such a sense of humor.
The up side, he said my eyes and all the vessels and such were very healthy.
I passed the new test that they offer that checks peripheral vision. Not an easy test I can tell ya.
But my vision is bad enough that he recommended progressive lenses.
They are interesting to wear. That is for sure!
I picked them up today, but I need to take them back to have the frames tweaked a hair.
Otherwise they are good so far. I was worried I would not get used to them.
But I think I will be okay with them.
Oh, did I mention that I will be getting to check another thing off my bucket list?
So um...in April.
I will be going to see CHER in concert!
Oh.......My........Gosh!!!!!!!!!!
We are expecting snow for Thanksgiving.
We are actually in a Winter Weather Watch and a High Wind Watch.
I am not too thrilled about the wind one at all!
And to the fact that the high winds are supposed to hit over night tomorrow.
UGH!!!
Hopefully the wind will not be awful.
Friday, November 22, 2019
Nine Days Left To NaNoWriMo
Well....
I am sitting at 29,228 out 50,000 words so far. I am supposed to be after today, at 36,667. I am a "little bit" behind still. Okay okay, maybe a lot. I took the remaining words needed between now and the end of the month and if I do about 2350 a day, I will make it.
As I said in another post, I shifted gears a bit and began working on something else.
Not because I am not loving my fantasy novel, because I am. I am really curious to see where it all goes. But I have some things to work on in my head and now I have some Gnomes that want to be a part of the story. I mean...hell if I am going to pause the writing, it might as well be for Gnomes. Every fantasy story always has stuff that includes elves, dwarves, men or humans of course, maybe some Hobbit like race. Dragons, naturally. But what about the Gnomes?? I do not mean the garden variety type. Not that they are not cute or anything because they are and I love them. I am thinking something more along the lines of those in the Warcraft universe. I have not worked it out yet, nor have I begun to do some research yet. But I might try to do that this weekend.
I mainly have not gotten too much done there because thanksgiving is coming. And I have to help with the Little Bug during the week when ever we have her. So I do not like to dive too deeply into a rabbit hole when she is around.
I have been working on my memories story. And it is bringing stuff up for me, which I am okay with since I am trying to remember things. Which I have been. But there is still so much I can't remember or that is blocked.
Debra made a good point in her comment to my other post. It is something that I never even considered. I never thought of my father as the actor type, or showing different sides to different people. Most of the stories of my dad before I was born gave me the impression that he was timid, perhaps shy, or dare I say weak. I do not know how to describe what I mean by weak. Maybe it is because I never saw him as one who would stand up for himself. I never saw him be physically abusive until I was in my teens.
I always felt like his drinking was his liquid courage to stand up to my mother. To say things to her he would never have the balls to say while he was sober.
But then, I think about when I was a freshman in high school. I was missing a lot of days of school. A concerned teacher talked to me one day and brought me to a counselor in the school. We had a program called SPARK. It was a safe place that us kids could go to and talk about problems we might be having. Some where along the way that year, I was brought or sent to another, I think pair of counselors. They were different than the first one. They were concerned about abuse. As was I. I was not even sure if what I was living constituted as abuse. They told me I could self report to children's services. And that a caseworker would investigate. Maybe the counselors were a little surprised, but I told them to make the call.
I do not know if I was looking to give my parents a wake up call, a kick in the ass to see themselves as being toxic, or if I truly wanted to be removed from my home. Since no one else was standing up for me, I tried to stand up for myself.
And lo and behold, when the case workers came to the house to question and "investigate", these two came off as pillars of society and ideal parents. They both fooled the case workers with their bullshit. So my case was closed as unfounded. I was devastated that no one believed me again. Things had not gotten physical yet, but I did not feel safe. But I feel like I was painted as a child just looking to get back at their parents for something they did not like.
Almost two years later, my father would threaten to kill me and try to attack us with a golf club. A couple of months prior to that, my father tried to molest me not for the first time either. I do not think he was ever successful, but then I can't remember for sure. And so I wonder if that is something I blocked out.
Once again, I turned to others for help. Told them what he did or tried to do. Once again, I was not believed. Once again, I was told "Oh he would not do that. Not to you. He loves you so much." Maybe he did. Maybe he did not. But I can't remember how many times that year I was sixteen that my father said he would kill me, kill us. Then that night finally came and he tried. I think the only thing that saved us was he was drunk. My mother managed to wrestle the golf club away from him. Somehow, it ended up in my hands. My then boyfriend, who incidentally was also physically abuse to me was there and he was trying to attack or subdue my father, I can't say which it was now. I had the golf club. Both my mother and then boyfriend were wrestling on the bed with my father. I started beating my father's leg with the golf club in an effort to make him stop. It is a wonder I did not break his shin bone or ankle. It was bruised pretty good though afterwards. I can't say how many times I hit him before he stopped fighting with them.
I think the police ended up coming and made him leave. Or maybe, he left on his own at that point. We tried to lock him out of the house, but the landlady moved the ironing board my mother used to bar the downstairs door. Some how we kept him from coming into the apartment. Or maybe he was just too drunk to work the key in that lock. He kept going on about needing the bathroom and ended up pissing through the door into the foyer. Then he slept on the landing a bit, I heard him snoring. It was a long night. I think he must have got up for work in the morning because he was gone.
The next morning or day, we told my grandmother what happened. And guess what? She did not believe it. I, instead, got scolded for hitting him and bruising his leg. My father did not come home after that again. But at the same time, we were also evicted from our apartment a few months later. The landlady had said if there was another incident with police coming to the house, we would have to move. Apparently too, my mother stopped paying the rent. With her pay check, we could not pay rent, utilities, and get groceries. My then boy friend started living with us and he did not help with the bills.
Maybe my father just did not remember doing what he did. Maybe that is why it was easy for him to deny it. I would not have ever hit him if I was not trying to defend myself or was afraid for my life.
I question though, if could do that then, why did I not defend myself against the physically abusive boyfriend. Why did I allow that to go on for almost two years? And then, how did I end up in an the emotionally and mentally abusive relationship that lasted a couple of decades?
Always searching for answers I might not ever find.
I am sitting at 29,228 out 50,000 words so far. I am supposed to be after today, at 36,667. I am a "little bit" behind still. Okay okay, maybe a lot. I took the remaining words needed between now and the end of the month and if I do about 2350 a day, I will make it.
As I said in another post, I shifted gears a bit and began working on something else.
Not because I am not loving my fantasy novel, because I am. I am really curious to see where it all goes. But I have some things to work on in my head and now I have some Gnomes that want to be a part of the story. I mean...hell if I am going to pause the writing, it might as well be for Gnomes. Every fantasy story always has stuff that includes elves, dwarves, men or humans of course, maybe some Hobbit like race. Dragons, naturally. But what about the Gnomes?? I do not mean the garden variety type. Not that they are not cute or anything because they are and I love them. I am thinking something more along the lines of those in the Warcraft universe. I have not worked it out yet, nor have I begun to do some research yet. But I might try to do that this weekend.
I mainly have not gotten too much done there because thanksgiving is coming. And I have to help with the Little Bug during the week when ever we have her. So I do not like to dive too deeply into a rabbit hole when she is around.
I have been working on my memories story. And it is bringing stuff up for me, which I am okay with since I am trying to remember things. Which I have been. But there is still so much I can't remember or that is blocked.
Debra made a good point in her comment to my other post. It is something that I never even considered. I never thought of my father as the actor type, or showing different sides to different people. Most of the stories of my dad before I was born gave me the impression that he was timid, perhaps shy, or dare I say weak. I do not know how to describe what I mean by weak. Maybe it is because I never saw him as one who would stand up for himself. I never saw him be physically abusive until I was in my teens.
I always felt like his drinking was his liquid courage to stand up to my mother. To say things to her he would never have the balls to say while he was sober.
But then, I think about when I was a freshman in high school. I was missing a lot of days of school. A concerned teacher talked to me one day and brought me to a counselor in the school. We had a program called SPARK. It was a safe place that us kids could go to and talk about problems we might be having. Some where along the way that year, I was brought or sent to another, I think pair of counselors. They were different than the first one. They were concerned about abuse. As was I. I was not even sure if what I was living constituted as abuse. They told me I could self report to children's services. And that a caseworker would investigate. Maybe the counselors were a little surprised, but I told them to make the call.
I do not know if I was looking to give my parents a wake up call, a kick in the ass to see themselves as being toxic, or if I truly wanted to be removed from my home. Since no one else was standing up for me, I tried to stand up for myself.
And lo and behold, when the case workers came to the house to question and "investigate", these two came off as pillars of society and ideal parents. They both fooled the case workers with their bullshit. So my case was closed as unfounded. I was devastated that no one believed me again. Things had not gotten physical yet, but I did not feel safe. But I feel like I was painted as a child just looking to get back at their parents for something they did not like.
Almost two years later, my father would threaten to kill me and try to attack us with a golf club. A couple of months prior to that, my father tried to molest me not for the first time either. I do not think he was ever successful, but then I can't remember for sure. And so I wonder if that is something I blocked out.
Once again, I turned to others for help. Told them what he did or tried to do. Once again, I was not believed. Once again, I was told "Oh he would not do that. Not to you. He loves you so much." Maybe he did. Maybe he did not. But I can't remember how many times that year I was sixteen that my father said he would kill me, kill us. Then that night finally came and he tried. I think the only thing that saved us was he was drunk. My mother managed to wrestle the golf club away from him. Somehow, it ended up in my hands. My then boyfriend, who incidentally was also physically abuse to me was there and he was trying to attack or subdue my father, I can't say which it was now. I had the golf club. Both my mother and then boyfriend were wrestling on the bed with my father. I started beating my father's leg with the golf club in an effort to make him stop. It is a wonder I did not break his shin bone or ankle. It was bruised pretty good though afterwards. I can't say how many times I hit him before he stopped fighting with them.
I think the police ended up coming and made him leave. Or maybe, he left on his own at that point. We tried to lock him out of the house, but the landlady moved the ironing board my mother used to bar the downstairs door. Some how we kept him from coming into the apartment. Or maybe he was just too drunk to work the key in that lock. He kept going on about needing the bathroom and ended up pissing through the door into the foyer. Then he slept on the landing a bit, I heard him snoring. It was a long night. I think he must have got up for work in the morning because he was gone.
The next morning or day, we told my grandmother what happened. And guess what? She did not believe it. I, instead, got scolded for hitting him and bruising his leg. My father did not come home after that again. But at the same time, we were also evicted from our apartment a few months later. The landlady had said if there was another incident with police coming to the house, we would have to move. Apparently too, my mother stopped paying the rent. With her pay check, we could not pay rent, utilities, and get groceries. My then boy friend started living with us and he did not help with the bills.
Maybe my father just did not remember doing what he did. Maybe that is why it was easy for him to deny it. I would not have ever hit him if I was not trying to defend myself or was afraid for my life.
I question though, if could do that then, why did I not defend myself against the physically abusive boyfriend. Why did I allow that to go on for almost two years? And then, how did I end up in an the emotionally and mentally abusive relationship that lasted a couple of decades?
Always searching for answers I might not ever find.
Sunday, November 17, 2019
Hands Hurt, But I Am Still Going
I am a bit behind in the word count again. But I have not given up.
Any words are better than no words, is the motto among NaNo people.
As of last night, I was just under 25,000 words. And the goal for this point
was 26,667.
My hands hurt, well I can't quite say hurt is the right word. But flexing and
un-flexing, is uncomfortable. They are not exactly stiff, but maybe weak is the
word I am looking for. Gripping things makes it feel like I will drop something.
And late in the day or evening, my ring finger and pinkie on either or both hands
have a tendency to get stiff and - or lock up for a brief minute or so. I cannot
let this kind of stuff hold me back. Or else I will never get any writing or art done.
While I am trying to work out some kinks with the fiction stuff.
Being a Genealogy nerd, I am trying to work out the family tree for my Main Character.
I initially had one of the characters as her great grandmother, but as I was writing the
story, that turned out wrong and it became her grandmother. I still want it to be her Great
Grand so I am looking at things to figure out how I can make that happen. Though, I might
just leave it for now and work it out later, if it ends up taking too much more time.
In the mean time though, I am working on writing down memories in a diary type style.
Every evening, I try to write some of the earliest things I remember.
I have some entries with just things like "First Grade" it was an uneventful school year.
Then I try to remember things that happened that year.
Like with "Second Grade" and my Great Grandfather dying, how it was the first death
I remember. Trying to remember home life at specific points when you have blocked
things is interesting.
The other night, after I had gone to bed I recalled something I needed to write for a specific
time period, and when I got up the next day I forgot again what it was.
Yesterday, I think I remembered it. But I am not sure.
We did not have the most exciting life.
We were not jet setters or rich.
But then, that is not the point. The point was to help me remember things I had long forgotten
so I can help myself heal from things.
I am still grappling with the whole why did no body believe me when I said this or that happened.
Why, if it was known that my father was allegedly violet before I was born, did no body believe
that he had gotten violent on this or that occasion after and when I was old enough to remember and
experience it.
I was lucky in that he did not carry through on his treats. The first time was when I was twelve or so
and had to call the police because he tried to push my mother out the kitchen window.
The operator would not believe me and kept insisting that my father would not hurt my mother.
My Grandmother would not believe that he tried to do that either.
Or the time that he threatened to kill us both and came after us with a golf club.
I was sixteen. Prior to that event, by about a year maybe. He had gone after my mother in the
kitchen while she was washing dishes. He gave her a black eye. But again it was 'oh he
would not do that'. Even though there was physical proof he did.
I just do not understand how people could just sit by and act like it did not happen
or "it really is not that bad". I could understand maybe not wanting to help my mother.
Because....well....you would have to have known her to understand.
But what about me. I was just a kid and you let me go through that. I do not
fucking understand.
Anyway...that is what I am working on in between writing the fiction.
Maybe I will never understand.
Maybe I will never make sense of it all.
But maybe I can heal from it.
Any words are better than no words, is the motto among NaNo people.
As of last night, I was just under 25,000 words. And the goal for this point
was 26,667.
My hands hurt, well I can't quite say hurt is the right word. But flexing and
un-flexing, is uncomfortable. They are not exactly stiff, but maybe weak is the
word I am looking for. Gripping things makes it feel like I will drop something.
And late in the day or evening, my ring finger and pinkie on either or both hands
have a tendency to get stiff and - or lock up for a brief minute or so. I cannot
let this kind of stuff hold me back. Or else I will never get any writing or art done.
While I am trying to work out some kinks with the fiction stuff.
Being a Genealogy nerd, I am trying to work out the family tree for my Main Character.
I initially had one of the characters as her great grandmother, but as I was writing the
story, that turned out wrong and it became her grandmother. I still want it to be her Great
Grand so I am looking at things to figure out how I can make that happen. Though, I might
just leave it for now and work it out later, if it ends up taking too much more time.
In the mean time though, I am working on writing down memories in a diary type style.
Every evening, I try to write some of the earliest things I remember.
I have some entries with just things like "First Grade" it was an uneventful school year.
Then I try to remember things that happened that year.
Like with "Second Grade" and my Great Grandfather dying, how it was the first death
I remember. Trying to remember home life at specific points when you have blocked
things is interesting.
The other night, after I had gone to bed I recalled something I needed to write for a specific
time period, and when I got up the next day I forgot again what it was.
Yesterday, I think I remembered it. But I am not sure.
We did not have the most exciting life.
We were not jet setters or rich.
But then, that is not the point. The point was to help me remember things I had long forgotten
so I can help myself heal from things.
I am still grappling with the whole why did no body believe me when I said this or that happened.
Why, if it was known that my father was allegedly violet before I was born, did no body believe
that he had gotten violent on this or that occasion after and when I was old enough to remember and
experience it.
I was lucky in that he did not carry through on his treats. The first time was when I was twelve or so
and had to call the police because he tried to push my mother out the kitchen window.
The operator would not believe me and kept insisting that my father would not hurt my mother.
My Grandmother would not believe that he tried to do that either.
Or the time that he threatened to kill us both and came after us with a golf club.
I was sixteen. Prior to that event, by about a year maybe. He had gone after my mother in the
kitchen while she was washing dishes. He gave her a black eye. But again it was 'oh he
would not do that'. Even though there was physical proof he did.
I just do not understand how people could just sit by and act like it did not happen
or "it really is not that bad". I could understand maybe not wanting to help my mother.
Because....well....you would have to have known her to understand.
But what about me. I was just a kid and you let me go through that. I do not
fucking understand.
Anyway...that is what I am working on in between writing the fiction.
Maybe I will never understand.
Maybe I will never make sense of it all.
But maybe I can heal from it.
Tuesday, November 12, 2019
Clickity Clack Goes The Keyboard
I am still finding my best writing time is at night. Especially when the dogs are off to bed, the cats are more or less settled, and things are in a sense quiet. It is not necessarily the quiet that makes it easier to write. I think it is a dormant habit. It is how I started out writing what seems like forever ago. Only then, I would write until say two or three in the morning. I think I still could do that if I let myself.
I have managed to "catch up" and get back on track. I had planned to maybe even get ahead this weekend, but instead I tried catching up on some shows. I figured if during the day is not my prime writing time, I might as well watch some of my shows. But I still wrote and that is what counts. As of yesterday, I was only short 300 or so words. I am still trying to figure out character names and how this all connects together. The other thing I am wondering is how I get from this story line to my original story idea. I guess it is all just more plot fodder.
I was thinking yesterday though about the story that I do not tell. And why I do not tell it. My story, not my fiction one but the one about me. As I have been thinking on it, I am coming to the idea that it is perhaps fear. Yep, there's that word again. I am still afraid of putting it into words. I am still afraid of saying it out loud. I am afraid of what others will say. I am afraid that their are those that will say I am a liar.
I know, I know. It is my story, it is my truth and that I should just tell it as it is true to me.
I guess in some ways, I am still looking for that approval from some people.
I guess I am still looking for the acknowledgement that yes, that did happen. Validation, maybe?
I would like it without judgement or the assumption that I am seeking attention.
Then there is the whole feeling of people judging you and accusing you of airing dirty laundry.
Why did so many things have to be kept hush hush or swept under the rug or locked in the closet?
Where were those that should have stepped up or stepped in and say that is not right, stop that?
Why did people turn a blind eye and act like they did not know anything was wrong?
It probably does not even matter anymore now. I will never have the answers I want in this life time.
But, sometimes an "I believe you" would be nice.
I can still remember how when I was trying to seek help, even if just advice from certain people and all I got was silence. All I got was the feeling like I was not believed and that was making it up. Attention seeking, being dramatic, all in my head.
I have found more support and acceptance from people I never met and only know online via blogs or the "Book of Faces". And if say something on FB, I feel like I am being judged with the "oh there she goes with that bull shit again." That I am some how a "broken record".
Little by little, things are falling away and I feel like I have been in a sense released from certain things. The thing is though, these are things that I remember happening to me. So that makes them my truths. If you do not remember them that way, that does not make my experience any less real or any less valid.
So maybe for now, I will write the things as I remember them just for me. And see what healing I can get from facing them in my writing. Childhood trauma is a bitch. Domestic Violence, in any form,
is a bitch. I may never recover, but I can working on healing on day at a time.
I have managed to "catch up" and get back on track. I had planned to maybe even get ahead this weekend, but instead I tried catching up on some shows. I figured if during the day is not my prime writing time, I might as well watch some of my shows. But I still wrote and that is what counts. As of yesterday, I was only short 300 or so words. I am still trying to figure out character names and how this all connects together. The other thing I am wondering is how I get from this story line to my original story idea. I guess it is all just more plot fodder.
I was thinking yesterday though about the story that I do not tell. And why I do not tell it. My story, not my fiction one but the one about me. As I have been thinking on it, I am coming to the idea that it is perhaps fear. Yep, there's that word again. I am still afraid of putting it into words. I am still afraid of saying it out loud. I am afraid of what others will say. I am afraid that their are those that will say I am a liar.
I know, I know. It is my story, it is my truth and that I should just tell it as it is true to me.
I guess in some ways, I am still looking for that approval from some people.
I guess I am still looking for the acknowledgement that yes, that did happen. Validation, maybe?
I would like it without judgement or the assumption that I am seeking attention.
Then there is the whole feeling of people judging you and accusing you of airing dirty laundry.
Why did so many things have to be kept hush hush or swept under the rug or locked in the closet?
Where were those that should have stepped up or stepped in and say that is not right, stop that?
Why did people turn a blind eye and act like they did not know anything was wrong?
It probably does not even matter anymore now. I will never have the answers I want in this life time.
But, sometimes an "I believe you" would be nice.
I can still remember how when I was trying to seek help, even if just advice from certain people and all I got was silence. All I got was the feeling like I was not believed and that was making it up. Attention seeking, being dramatic, all in my head.
I have found more support and acceptance from people I never met and only know online via blogs or the "Book of Faces". And if say something on FB, I feel like I am being judged with the "oh there she goes with that bull shit again." That I am some how a "broken record".
Little by little, things are falling away and I feel like I have been in a sense released from certain things. The thing is though, these are things that I remember happening to me. So that makes them my truths. If you do not remember them that way, that does not make my experience any less real or any less valid.
So maybe for now, I will write the things as I remember them just for me. And see what healing I can get from facing them in my writing. Childhood trauma is a bitch. Domestic Violence, in any form,
is a bitch. I may never recover, but I can working on healing on day at a time.
Friday, November 8, 2019
Writing NaNoWriMo - The Struggle Is Real
Firstly, I have written (as of yesterday) seven days straight!
I started out strong, even ahead of the word count.
A couple of days there though, I did not even break five hundred.
I felt myself starting to falter. I felt the doubt creeping in.
Thankfully the plot twists are nagging me enough to keep coming.
Thankfully the mystery woman who should up out of the starting gate keeps talking to me.
I have also broke the ten thousand word mark. BUT, as of right now, I am about fourteen hundred words behind. I need just over three thousand to get back on track. The plan for the weekend right now anyway, is to get back on track and maybe even ahead of the count.
SO I am NOT giving up.
I was writing last night.
When I realized, old habits die hard.
I still even fifteen years after I started the original story, find it easier to write at night.
Back then, I could easily find myself still writing and researching well past two or
three in the morning.
I think I could do it again now.
But I realized something just a short bit ago.
I am holding myself back.
I can get on roll with the words. The ideas are starting to come together. And then I notice the
time. Usually only about 11:30 and I think I should stop. Or that I have to stop and so I do.
I think I am holding myself back.
What occurred to me when I was thinking about that and why I might be doing it, is that
I think it might be fear. Yep...here we go again. FEAR.
I think I am afraid of failing. That if I throw myself into this and let it just go and flow, that
it will end up being total crap and I will end up feeling like I wasted my time.
I also think I am afraid it will be really good. I am afraid if it is good, that more things will come of it.
More stories. Or dare I think of trying to publish.
Then, I am afraid that if I let myself try to publish that I will be rejected. Because now they will think it is total crap. I know rejection is part of the process. But I don't know if I could handle it.
Then there is the part of me that is okay with not being published.
That used to be "THE DREAM". Publish or bust.
Now though, I have come to be okay with just having written it for me.
Write to see if I could actually do it from start to finish. A complete story.
For no other reason than self satisfaction.
Things I need to work on:
Getting out of my head and letting myself write if the words are flowing
and not worry about the clock or what time it is.
Getting out of my head and stop worrying if it the writing is good or bad
right now and just get the words down.
Let each new plot twist or character that shows up while I am writing
be its own chapter in the draft that I can explore at will when the ideas come.
So there it is. The goals for the weekend. Now back to the writing my story.
Have a lovely weekend!
Saturday, November 2, 2019
And So It Begins.......Again
No no, nothing bad.
Madness maybe (insert evil, maniacal laugh here)
It's time for NaNoWriMo.
My 14th year? I lose count lol. Website says 15, how am I to argue.
I was trying to do some prep in October.
But there was always something and then the month was over.
My original story idea still wants to be written.
I've lost some of the vision I had for it 15 years ago.
Right now though, it seems the story has some other ideas of where it
wants to go. So I will see where it takes me.
I rebelled yesterday by editing a bit of what I had started writing for it
in July and then added to that.
Coming in at just under 3,000 words.
I'm not going to put the crazy pressure some put on themselves.
I already expect the distractions and interruptions.
It is November after all.
Nano almost never runs smoothly LOL
But I have hope.
Now all I have to do, besides write all the words is:
Madness maybe (insert evil, maniacal laugh here)
It's time for NaNoWriMo.
My 14th year? I lose count lol. Website says 15, how am I to argue.
I was trying to do some prep in October.
But there was always something and then the month was over.
My original story idea still wants to be written.
I've lost some of the vision I had for it 15 years ago.
Right now though, it seems the story has some other ideas of where it
wants to go. So I will see where it takes me.
I rebelled yesterday by editing a bit of what I had started writing for it
in July and then added to that.
Coming in at just under 3,000 words.
I'm not going to put the crazy pressure some put on themselves.
I already expect the distractions and interruptions.
It is November after all.
Nano almost never runs smoothly LOL
But I have hope.
Now all I have to do, besides write all the words is:
- Figure out who the faceless woman is
- Come up with a name for the mysterious, magical history book that suddenly come into play
- Figure out who the secret order is, what they are called, and what is there purpose
Sunday, October 27, 2019
The End....Of An Era...A Farewell To 49
I was thinking about when I was younger.
The thought of ever being 50 seemed like an eternity away,
let alone even a possibility
that one day I would, in fact, be 50.
It almost seemed impossible.
Back then, I'm sure I considered that to be old.
But here I am, on the eve of my birthday.
The last day of my 40's.
I see a lot of places I have fallen short and missed the mark
over the years. Places where my yeses should have been noes
and vice versa. Where I should have maybe stayed longer in
Brooklyn. Where I should have finished my degree or gone
further. Or where I maybe should have insisted on finishing it
in Florida. Or even Georgia. Once upon a time, I had thought
to even go back now. But to pursue what I want, I need to live in
another state. And the online schools for what I would consider
don't take financial aid. But that's okay, I'm at peace now with
not having it. I can expand my learning without paying thousands
to do it. I have come to realize that I don't need that piece of paper
for my own personal satisfaction.
I fell short of my 50 x 50 by a LONG LONG way.
I kept thinking, oh I have time. Almost three months worth.
Then, before I even knew it...here we are.
I had begun to beat myself up for it.
I made myself stop. Why? I can't undo the fact that I didn't do it.
All I can do it try to do better. Be better at honoring my
commitments to myself. If I can honor them to others, I can
honor them to myself, I just need to make ME a priority.
I look back and see where I saved myself. What and where I
escaped pain and abuse and heartache. I didn't see myself as
courageous then. Nor did I see myself as brave or as a warrior
or as a survivor. I used to see myself as a coward running in
fear. It is only now, that I realize I probably saved my life and
my sanity.
Some people, I think, see me as the toxic one. That I was to blame,
that I wasn't the victim. I'm sorry that they see it that way. But
that's on them, not me. All I can do is hope that one day, they will
realize I'm not the one at fault.
It's 2019 and people still have a "you made your bed, lie in it"
mentality. Never once thinking of what that does for the victim.
I will no longer try to convince people that my story is not some
tall tale that I made up for sympathy. Either believe me or don't.
I don't have time to prove things to anyone.
It's hard to learn and to let myself do things for me.
It's hard to learn that it's okay to live my life.
It's hard to learn that it's okay to be myself, even if I am still
figuring that out and unlearning all the things I was told that I was.
I think, unlearning the lies I've been told is one of the hardest things.
I don't want to begin 50 with believing the lies and them echoing in my ear.
It's a New Moon, this eve of my birthday.
A time of transformation. A time of letting of what no longer fits.
Side note: my drawers are full of things that don't fit.
Perhaps it is time to let those things go too.
I am, for the first time in a long time, looking forward to my birthday.
Now...don't go crazy thinking I want any big to dos. NO SIR!
But I will welcome in a year of new beginnings, a year of
creating, of the sacred, of learning my authentic voice. A new year in
my life. Here's to turning 50!
The thought of ever being 50 seemed like an eternity away,
let alone even a possibility
that one day I would, in fact, be 50.
It almost seemed impossible.
Back then, I'm sure I considered that to be old.
But here I am, on the eve of my birthday.
The last day of my 40's.
I see a lot of places I have fallen short and missed the mark
over the years. Places where my yeses should have been noes
and vice versa. Where I should have maybe stayed longer in
Brooklyn. Where I should have finished my degree or gone
further. Or where I maybe should have insisted on finishing it
in Florida. Or even Georgia. Once upon a time, I had thought
to even go back now. But to pursue what I want, I need to live in
another state. And the online schools for what I would consider
don't take financial aid. But that's okay, I'm at peace now with
not having it. I can expand my learning without paying thousands
to do it. I have come to realize that I don't need that piece of paper
for my own personal satisfaction.
I fell short of my 50 x 50 by a LONG LONG way.
I kept thinking, oh I have time. Almost three months worth.
Then, before I even knew it...here we are.
I had begun to beat myself up for it.
I made myself stop. Why? I can't undo the fact that I didn't do it.
All I can do it try to do better. Be better at honoring my
commitments to myself. If I can honor them to others, I can
honor them to myself, I just need to make ME a priority.
I look back and see where I saved myself. What and where I
escaped pain and abuse and heartache. I didn't see myself as
courageous then. Nor did I see myself as brave or as a warrior
or as a survivor. I used to see myself as a coward running in
fear. It is only now, that I realize I probably saved my life and
my sanity.
Some people, I think, see me as the toxic one. That I was to blame,
that I wasn't the victim. I'm sorry that they see it that way. But
that's on them, not me. All I can do is hope that one day, they will
realize I'm not the one at fault.
It's 2019 and people still have a "you made your bed, lie in it"
mentality. Never once thinking of what that does for the victim.
I will no longer try to convince people that my story is not some
tall tale that I made up for sympathy. Either believe me or don't.
I don't have time to prove things to anyone.
It's hard to learn and to let myself do things for me.
It's hard to learn that it's okay to live my life.
It's hard to learn that it's okay to be myself, even if I am still
figuring that out and unlearning all the things I was told that I was.
I think, unlearning the lies I've been told is one of the hardest things.
I don't want to begin 50 with believing the lies and them echoing in my ear.
It's a New Moon, this eve of my birthday.
A time of transformation. A time of letting of what no longer fits.
Side note: my drawers are full of things that don't fit.
Perhaps it is time to let those things go too.
I am, for the first time in a long time, looking forward to my birthday.
Now...don't go crazy thinking I want any big to dos. NO SIR!
But I will welcome in a year of new beginnings, a year of
creating, of the sacred, of learning my authentic voice. A new year in
my life. Here's to turning 50!
Thursday, October 10, 2019
Too Cold, Too Soon
It's been cold!
Like freeze warning cold!!
I don't like it.
Not one bit!
This morning, they said it was the lowest so far.
Here by us, it was around 25.
Some places, it was down to 10!!
This is October.
We have barely even had Fall yet.
I look out the back door and into my neighbor's field and there is ICE on the grass.
Not frost, but ice.
They are draining the water lines and so there is a slow stream from the spouts.
This is make little ice shard forests in the grass.
It looks kind of neat from the window actually.
I haven't ventured out there though.
Some places in the mountains have already had snow.
The close snowfall was about 40 miles away.
I don't think that they got a whole lot.
It's just the thought of snow in freaking October...UGH!
I've looked at 3 different almanacs and Accuweather's post the other day.
They are all different! Not one agrees with another.
One almanac says we're gonna be in for it.
Another says average.
Accuweather says mild.
I feel like we're gonna be in for it.
I don't know why. But my body has been aching in odd ways for weeks now.
Judging by how cold it is and we're not even a month into Fall....I'd be rather
surprised if we didn't have a hard winter.
I mean, all the little birds have already disappeared!
Haven't seen one since mid September.
My cousin says the East Coast is in for it again too.
I know people out that way are seeing solid black Wooly Bear catapillars.
That's a sign of a hard winter.
My cousin was saying that the birds and squirrels are putting up their stores, too.
I dread to think what it will be like.
We're trying to be some what prepared.
Or at least as much as we possibly can.
I'll be getting to go on a day trip to the mountains next week, weather permitting.
Hopefully, I'll get to see some leaves turning colors.
Definitely taking the camera!
Hoping to have something to share.
Like freeze warning cold!!
I don't like it.
Not one bit!
This morning, they said it was the lowest so far.
Here by us, it was around 25.
Some places, it was down to 10!!
This is October.
We have barely even had Fall yet.
I look out the back door and into my neighbor's field and there is ICE on the grass.
Not frost, but ice.
They are draining the water lines and so there is a slow stream from the spouts.
This is make little ice shard forests in the grass.
It looks kind of neat from the window actually.
I haven't ventured out there though.
Some places in the mountains have already had snow.
The close snowfall was about 40 miles away.
I don't think that they got a whole lot.
It's just the thought of snow in freaking October...UGH!
I've looked at 3 different almanacs and Accuweather's post the other day.
They are all different! Not one agrees with another.
One almanac says we're gonna be in for it.
Another says average.
Accuweather says mild.
I feel like we're gonna be in for it.
I don't know why. But my body has been aching in odd ways for weeks now.
Judging by how cold it is and we're not even a month into Fall....I'd be rather
surprised if we didn't have a hard winter.
I mean, all the little birds have already disappeared!
Haven't seen one since mid September.
My cousin says the East Coast is in for it again too.
I know people out that way are seeing solid black Wooly Bear catapillars.
That's a sign of a hard winter.
My cousin was saying that the birds and squirrels are putting up their stores, too.
I dread to think what it will be like.
We're trying to be some what prepared.
Or at least as much as we possibly can.
I'll be getting to go on a day trip to the mountains next week, weather permitting.
Hopefully, I'll get to see some leaves turning colors.
Definitely taking the camera!
Hoping to have something to share.
Wednesday, September 25, 2019
Trying To Remember To Breathe
My mantra today:
I AM SAFE.
I AM SAFE.
I AM SAFE.
Not really working though.
I'm trying to remember to breathe too.
While repeating as often as necessary that
I am in fact..SAFE.
If ever I doubted being abused is real because people said
"OH...it's not that bad." "It wasn't what you think".
"It's all in your head".
Today, I got flood with panic and fear.
Well, actually it started yesterday.
I smelled a smell I haven't smelled in over 30 years.
No matter how hard I tried,
I couldn't escape it.
It was all around me.
Every way I turned my head, it was there.
Even when I laid down to sleep.
It was there. But even stronger.
I bid the smell and the person it's attached to,
to be gone and leave me in peace. Then fell into
a restless sleep.
My old injury from this abuser has been flaring something fierce.
Then this smell.
Today, he pops up on FB.
Not on my wall or anything. But in connection to things from years ago.
I thought my heart was going to stop.
I had looked before, and never saw anything.
I felt...crazy but...I felt a little safer, knowing he wasn't on there.
Little did I know, he has been for 3 years. I just didn't search his nickname.
There are approximately 2507 miles between us.
But in this moment, it may as well be zero because I am that triggered.
Every noise is going to make me jump.
I will be seeing things in the shadows.
Even though, the likelihood of ever seeing him is slim.
I also know what he is capable of.
And if the not yet ex can put me in a tailspin...
This one is worse.
Worse because he has threatened my life more than once in the past.
Worse because he has held me at knife point.
Worse because he has held me at gun point.
Worse because part of the reason he spent time in jail was on account of
an outstanding bench warrant in a case of him vs me.
If I ever began to doubt if my abuse was real...
seeing his face in a photo proved otherwise.
So today, I just need to keep reminding myself that I am safe.
That everything will be okay.
PTSD....SUCKS!!!!!!
I AM SAFE.
I AM SAFE.
I AM SAFE.
Not really working though.
I'm trying to remember to breathe too.
While repeating as often as necessary that
I am in fact..SAFE.
If ever I doubted being abused is real because people said
"OH...it's not that bad." "It wasn't what you think".
"It's all in your head".
Today, I got flood with panic and fear.
Well, actually it started yesterday.
I smelled a smell I haven't smelled in over 30 years.
No matter how hard I tried,
I couldn't escape it.
It was all around me.
Every way I turned my head, it was there.
Even when I laid down to sleep.
It was there. But even stronger.
I bid the smell and the person it's attached to,
to be gone and leave me in peace. Then fell into
a restless sleep.
My old injury from this abuser has been flaring something fierce.
Then this smell.
Today, he pops up on FB.
Not on my wall or anything. But in connection to things from years ago.
I thought my heart was going to stop.
I had looked before, and never saw anything.
I felt...crazy but...I felt a little safer, knowing he wasn't on there.
Little did I know, he has been for 3 years. I just didn't search his nickname.
There are approximately 2507 miles between us.
But in this moment, it may as well be zero because I am that triggered.
Every noise is going to make me jump.
I will be seeing things in the shadows.
Even though, the likelihood of ever seeing him is slim.
I also know what he is capable of.
And if the not yet ex can put me in a tailspin...
This one is worse.
Worse because he has threatened my life more than once in the past.
Worse because he has held me at knife point.
Worse because he has held me at gun point.
Worse because part of the reason he spent time in jail was on account of
an outstanding bench warrant in a case of him vs me.
If I ever began to doubt if my abuse was real...
seeing his face in a photo proved otherwise.
So today, I just need to keep reminding myself that I am safe.
That everything will be okay.
PTSD....SUCKS!!!!!!
Tuesday, September 17, 2019
Failing Miserably
I have this list, usually a mental list.
Of things I want to be doing.
Of things I feel like I SHOULD be doing.
And I am failing.
Miserably!
At doing any of it.
Remember that 50x50 idea I had.
Yeah.
Not going so well.
I've only gotten 4, maybe 5 done.
And one is still a WIP.
I sign up for these free online summit things.
And then, I never get around to listening or watching.
Or...Doing.
Again...
failing....
miserably.
And it always comes back to the same ole reason.
GUILT!
I feel guilty for wanting to do a thing.
I feel guilty for trying to do a thing.
I feel guilty for needing stuff to do said things.
I feel guilty for actually doing a thing.
And well, to be honest it's not just the guilt.
It is the whole impostor syndrome thing.
It is the whole not good enough thing.
It is the whole why should I bother, no one will care thing.
Never mind how much joy it might bring me though.
Oh no, because me being happy doesn't matter. Dontcha know.
Or at least that's what the gremlins tell me.
I was doing good there for awhile, fending them off.
But, somewhere along the way the managed to gain the upper hand
and are winning again.
Well....with having that bout of the dizzies, I wasn't up to fighting
anything at all. But they gained the upper hand even before that, I think.
The dizzies have passed.
THANKFULLY!
Though, I am continuing the Ginko and the B12.
I mean, it can't hurt.
I've not noticed an improvement over the foggy brain, but it's only been
two maybe three weeks, or there abouts.
So there it is.
Me failing.
Yet again.
I can probably still make it if I put my mind to doing the 50x50.
But do I even try??
Of things I want to be doing.
Of things I feel like I SHOULD be doing.
And I am failing.
Miserably!
At doing any of it.
Remember that 50x50 idea I had.
Yeah.
Not going so well.
I've only gotten 4, maybe 5 done.
And one is still a WIP.
I sign up for these free online summit things.
And then, I never get around to listening or watching.
Or...Doing.
Again...
failing....
miserably.
And it always comes back to the same ole reason.
GUILT!
I feel guilty for wanting to do a thing.
I feel guilty for trying to do a thing.
I feel guilty for needing stuff to do said things.
I feel guilty for actually doing a thing.
And well, to be honest it's not just the guilt.
It is the whole impostor syndrome thing.
It is the whole not good enough thing.
It is the whole why should I bother, no one will care thing.
Never mind how much joy it might bring me though.
Oh no, because me being happy doesn't matter. Dontcha know.
Or at least that's what the gremlins tell me.
I was doing good there for awhile, fending them off.
But, somewhere along the way the managed to gain the upper hand
and are winning again.
Well....with having that bout of the dizzies, I wasn't up to fighting
anything at all. But they gained the upper hand even before that, I think.
The dizzies have passed.
THANKFULLY!
Though, I am continuing the Ginko and the B12.
I mean, it can't hurt.
I've not noticed an improvement over the foggy brain, but it's only been
two maybe three weeks, or there abouts.
So there it is.
Me failing.
Yet again.
I can probably still make it if I put my mind to doing the 50x50.
But do I even try??
Wednesday, September 11, 2019
Forever In My Memory
Today like, for most New Yorkers and those who lost friends and loved ones was a somber day.
I tried to fill my day with distractions, unsuccessfully.
I still can't bring myself to watch a memorial on TV.
After 18 years, I just can't.
There were little things today that brought certain moments to the front of my mind.
There was a post I read on Facebook today that said something along the lines of:
9/11 is the JFK moment of this generation.
And it hit me as to how right she was.
I can remember as a child, my mother or grandmother talking about where they were
or what they were doing when JFK died.
And that is exactly what my generation is doing today.
My feed was filled with "Where were you when" posts about that fateful day.
I won't reiterate the details of my experience.
I've posted it before.
I used to think writing it every year was helpful.
Now, I'm not so sure.
If nothing else, it keeps it fresh in my mind.
The sad thing is, for all the remembering done today.
Life will go on as usual tomorrow, as if today never happened.
Those that hung up their hate for today, will don the cloak of it
tomorrow and go about their ways.
Or maybe I'm just being cynical? Is that the right word?
Can't we all just fucking get along and live in peace?!
But that might be a post for another day. Eh?
I tried to fill my day with distractions, unsuccessfully.
I still can't bring myself to watch a memorial on TV.
After 18 years, I just can't.
There were little things today that brought certain moments to the front of my mind.
There was a post I read on Facebook today that said something along the lines of:
9/11 is the JFK moment of this generation.
And it hit me as to how right she was.
I can remember as a child, my mother or grandmother talking about where they were
or what they were doing when JFK died.
And that is exactly what my generation is doing today.
My feed was filled with "Where were you when" posts about that fateful day.
I won't reiterate the details of my experience.
I've posted it before.
I used to think writing it every year was helpful.
Now, I'm not so sure.
If nothing else, it keeps it fresh in my mind.
The sad thing is, for all the remembering done today.
Life will go on as usual tomorrow, as if today never happened.
Those that hung up their hate for today, will don the cloak of it
tomorrow and go about their ways.
Or maybe I'm just being cynical? Is that the right word?
Can't we all just fucking get along and live in peace?!
But that might be a post for another day. Eh?
Tuesday, September 10, 2019
Fall Weather Is Here, For Now
We were about 90 on Saturday, and mostly 90s all week before that.
Then, Sunday it dropped a good 30 degrees.
70-ish yesterday, and about the same today.
I'll take it!!
Jeans
Sweatshirts
HELL YEAH!
80s it looks like later this week
But that's okay, it won't be swampy and sweltering.
Dizzies are improving for the most part.
I don't feel like I'm on a boat constantly.
Though, moving too fast or bending over doesn't feel too good.
Neck still feels weird.
I'm thinking it's more spurs.
But up in my neck. It makes sense.
I have them in my lower back already.
I'll keep up with the Ginko and B12, or try to at least.
I tend to forget sometimes. But so far, so good.
I might add the "other" Dramamine in, just to see.
Trying to avoid ibuprofen unless the pain really flairs.
I know, not ideal.
But if I take it too often it's hard on the tummy.
Oh...another thing about it finally feeling like Fall......
I can sleep with my heating pad!!!!!!!!!
Silly? Probably. But it's cozy and comforting.
Need to top off the coffee and take my stuff before I forget.
Have a lovely day!
Then, Sunday it dropped a good 30 degrees.
70-ish yesterday, and about the same today.
I'll take it!!
Jeans
Sweatshirts
HELL YEAH!
80s it looks like later this week
But that's okay, it won't be swampy and sweltering.
Dizzies are improving for the most part.
I don't feel like I'm on a boat constantly.
Though, moving too fast or bending over doesn't feel too good.
Neck still feels weird.
I'm thinking it's more spurs.
But up in my neck. It makes sense.
I have them in my lower back already.
I'll keep up with the Ginko and B12, or try to at least.
I tend to forget sometimes. But so far, so good.
I might add the "other" Dramamine in, just to see.
Trying to avoid ibuprofen unless the pain really flairs.
I know, not ideal.
But if I take it too often it's hard on the tummy.
Oh...another thing about it finally feeling like Fall......
I can sleep with my heating pad!!!!!!!!!
Silly? Probably. But it's cozy and comforting.
Need to top off the coffee and take my stuff before I forget.
Have a lovely day!
Monday, September 2, 2019
Temporarily Down For The Count
I have no idea what it is or what caused it, or if it might be this weird bug going around.
BUT...I've been down for the count since Friday.
Woke up okay, and then I started feeling dizzy.
Which started making me feel nauseous.
I brushed it off and just a passing thing or maybe just my blood sugar dropping too low
since I hadn't had any breakfast. I'm not much of a breakfast person.
I sucked on a hard candy until I could get something to drink and nibble on.
That usually works, and when it didn't I started to wonder what the hell.
I barely made it through the Dollar Tree. But I did grab a drink and some crackers.
They didn't help.
"Mom" made the executive decision to just go back home and finish errands later.
We only got a couple of miles before all my coffee made a return trip.
UGH! But once that was over with, I felt slightly better.
Eventually, I started to feel a hair better but went back to bed and laid there awhile.
That was all the vomiting I did, and the nausea went away for the most part.
But the world wouldn't stop spinning.
So we're thinking I some how developed vertigo.
I think it's some how related to my neck.
Trying some home remedies to see if I can shake it.
I managed to go out after all on Saturday afternoon. Made it through mostly with only
mild dizziness. But on the way home, since it was hotter it started to get a little worse.
At least not Friday worse though.
I picked up some Ginko and some Dramamine.
Both are supposed to help with vertigo, if that's what it is.
If it's the weird bug going around, then at least the Dramamine will help with the
dizziness and nausea. Added some B12 in there too.
It was a little better yesterday and today is so so, not worse but I'm not at 100% either.
It feels somewhat like I'm on a boat.
If I move my head too fast, then things really spin for a minute.
If by the end of the week it's not better or gone, I'll probably go to the doctor.
In the meantime, I am mostly just sitting and doing not much of anything.
BUT...I've been down for the count since Friday.
Woke up okay, and then I started feeling dizzy.
Which started making me feel nauseous.
I brushed it off and just a passing thing or maybe just my blood sugar dropping too low
since I hadn't had any breakfast. I'm not much of a breakfast person.
I sucked on a hard candy until I could get something to drink and nibble on.
That usually works, and when it didn't I started to wonder what the hell.
I barely made it through the Dollar Tree. But I did grab a drink and some crackers.
They didn't help.
"Mom" made the executive decision to just go back home and finish errands later.
We only got a couple of miles before all my coffee made a return trip.
UGH! But once that was over with, I felt slightly better.
Eventually, I started to feel a hair better but went back to bed and laid there awhile.
That was all the vomiting I did, and the nausea went away for the most part.
But the world wouldn't stop spinning.
So we're thinking I some how developed vertigo.
I think it's some how related to my neck.
Trying some home remedies to see if I can shake it.
I managed to go out after all on Saturday afternoon. Made it through mostly with only
mild dizziness. But on the way home, since it was hotter it started to get a little worse.
At least not Friday worse though.
I picked up some Ginko and some Dramamine.
Both are supposed to help with vertigo, if that's what it is.
If it's the weird bug going around, then at least the Dramamine will help with the
dizziness and nausea. Added some B12 in there too.
It was a little better yesterday and today is so so, not worse but I'm not at 100% either.
It feels somewhat like I'm on a boat.
If I move my head too fast, then things really spin for a minute.
If by the end of the week it's not better or gone, I'll probably go to the doctor.
In the meantime, I am mostly just sitting and doing not much of anything.
Sunday, August 25, 2019
Old Habits, Die Hard
Isn't that the saying?
If not, I'm sure it's close.
I find myself doing it again.
Falling back into old patterns.
Listening to the same old excuses in my head
telling my why I can't or shouldn't do a thing.
Forget the painting, you suck.
Forget it, the paint isn't cooperating.
Oh look, you messed up that spot.....AGAIN.
Ha, you've had that tube so long the paint's
almost too old to use. (Nevermind that I've
had issues with this brand before on a brand
new tube...but those gremlins........ya know)
Or, well if you haven't completed a book by now,
goodness knows you never will.
How many of these "stories" have you started and
abandoned? You suck you know.
That one site says your blog posts are like it was
written by a 7th grader. What happened to that
college level writing you used to do? Yep, you suck!
Or now the new additions about photography.
How all my pictures suck.
How almost all of them have some sort of
"shake" in them.
Or how I only have one lens and will probably
never have enough to be even close to good.
Oh.My.Gods.......do they ever shut the fuck up?!
I finally watched "The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel
Pie Society" movie last night. One, I immediately loved
it the moment I saw five people from Downton Abbey
in it. I knew "Rose" and "Isobel" and "Henry" were in it.
But why I saw "Sybil"...that cinched it for me.
What I didn't realize, was that the main character "Juliette"
was an author and that it was partly a "writing movie".
This is going on my list of movies to watch again and again.
Right up there with "Julie and Julia" and "Eat, Pray, Love".
But I need more. I need more inspiration movies like this.
Once again, while watching Potato Peel, I found myself
thinking about my love of words and writing. I found myself
longing for a typewriter.....again.
I started thinking about how I got one for Christmas when I was
a kid. I remember going into a store called Darlings. They were
a neighborhood store that sold toys and baby stuff like cribs and
such. It was blue and white. It was a fully functioning toy
typewriter. I remember my mother buying and saying
something like I'd have to wait until Christmas for it.
I'm not entirely sure I realized it was for me or understood why she
bought it with me there.
But I was just as excited when I unwrapped it a few days later.
I don't know what happened to that. I don't recall it being thrown
away or breaking. My next typewriter was a big heavy lug of a
thing that "HE" brought home from his office. I used it for college
reports and the like. I was supposed to be his office secretary, when
he moved the office to the apartment. I don't know what happened to
that one either.
I can't say that I had another after that one. Or at least, I don't
remember having one. I've always wanted another though.
While electric is great, the idea of a manual is so romantic. I might have
to keep my eyes open for ones at a thrift store or yard sale.
All I know is I used to be like most kids...artistic in that I always wanted
to color and I always wanted to use the cheap try of kiddy watercolor paints.
I was always told I was doing it wrong or ruining it, whether the crayons, the
paints, or the coloring books. After awhile, you just stop wanting it.
I've always been interested in the camera. But once again, it was one of
those things that my mother was sure I'd ruin so I wasn't permitted to
use her little 110 Kodak.
And writing.........once I found a love for reading, I wanted to write.
I wanted to be Laura Ingalls or V.C. Andrews. Goodness knows how
many stories I abandoned as a kid. How many "It was a dark and stormy
night" I left unfinished or barely started.
The very first story I think tried to write was something like "Letters From
My Sister". I fantasized about receiving letters from her after I found out
she existed. I my mind, I named her Barbara for some reason. I don't think
I got very far with that story. I didn't know what a 22 year old would write
a 12 year old.
I think I am doing a hair better fighting the art demons.
I went to the canvas yesterday and picked up the brush despite the voices.
I am already finding myself thinking about NaNo in November, wondering
if it is too early to start preparing for it.
And, I have been actively looking into learning how use the lens that I have
so I can get good photos out of it.
I saw something earlier that said something like "If you can't walk away
from writing, then you ARE a writer."
Well then........
I can't put the brush down.
I can't put the pen down.
I can't put the camera down.
So I guess that makes me all those things I dream of.
If not, I'm sure it's close.
I find myself doing it again.
Falling back into old patterns.
Listening to the same old excuses in my head
telling my why I can't or shouldn't do a thing.
Forget the painting, you suck.
Forget it, the paint isn't cooperating.
Oh look, you messed up that spot.....AGAIN.
Ha, you've had that tube so long the paint's
almost too old to use. (Nevermind that I've
had issues with this brand before on a brand
new tube...but those gremlins........ya know)
Or, well if you haven't completed a book by now,
goodness knows you never will.
How many of these "stories" have you started and
abandoned? You suck you know.
That one site says your blog posts are like it was
written by a 7th grader. What happened to that
college level writing you used to do? Yep, you suck!
Or now the new additions about photography.
How all my pictures suck.
How almost all of them have some sort of
"shake" in them.
Or how I only have one lens and will probably
never have enough to be even close to good.
Oh.My.Gods.......do they ever shut the fuck up?!
I finally watched "The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel
Pie Society" movie last night. One, I immediately loved
it the moment I saw five people from Downton Abbey
in it. I knew "Rose" and "Isobel" and "Henry" were in it.
But why I saw "Sybil"...that cinched it for me.
What I didn't realize, was that the main character "Juliette"
was an author and that it was partly a "writing movie".
This is going on my list of movies to watch again and again.
Right up there with "Julie and Julia" and "Eat, Pray, Love".
But I need more. I need more inspiration movies like this.
Once again, while watching Potato Peel, I found myself
thinking about my love of words and writing. I found myself
longing for a typewriter.....again.
I started thinking about how I got one for Christmas when I was
a kid. I remember going into a store called Darlings. They were
a neighborhood store that sold toys and baby stuff like cribs and
such. It was blue and white. It was a fully functioning toy
typewriter. I remember my mother buying and saying
something like I'd have to wait until Christmas for it.
I'm not entirely sure I realized it was for me or understood why she
bought it with me there.
But I was just as excited when I unwrapped it a few days later.
I don't know what happened to that. I don't recall it being thrown
away or breaking. My next typewriter was a big heavy lug of a
thing that "HE" brought home from his office. I used it for college
reports and the like. I was supposed to be his office secretary, when
he moved the office to the apartment. I don't know what happened to
that one either.
I can't say that I had another after that one. Or at least, I don't
remember having one. I've always wanted another though.
While electric is great, the idea of a manual is so romantic. I might have
to keep my eyes open for ones at a thrift store or yard sale.
All I know is I used to be like most kids...artistic in that I always wanted
to color and I always wanted to use the cheap try of kiddy watercolor paints.
I was always told I was doing it wrong or ruining it, whether the crayons, the
paints, or the coloring books. After awhile, you just stop wanting it.
I've always been interested in the camera. But once again, it was one of
those things that my mother was sure I'd ruin so I wasn't permitted to
use her little 110 Kodak.
And writing.........once I found a love for reading, I wanted to write.
I wanted to be Laura Ingalls or V.C. Andrews. Goodness knows how
many stories I abandoned as a kid. How many "It was a dark and stormy
night" I left unfinished or barely started.
The very first story I think tried to write was something like "Letters From
My Sister". I fantasized about receiving letters from her after I found out
she existed. I my mind, I named her Barbara for some reason. I don't think
I got very far with that story. I didn't know what a 22 year old would write
a 12 year old.
I think I am doing a hair better fighting the art demons.
I went to the canvas yesterday and picked up the brush despite the voices.
I am already finding myself thinking about NaNo in November, wondering
if it is too early to start preparing for it.
And, I have been actively looking into learning how use the lens that I have
so I can get good photos out of it.
I saw something earlier that said something like "If you can't walk away
from writing, then you ARE a writer."
Well then........
I can't put the brush down.
I can't put the pen down.
I can't put the camera down.
So I guess that makes me all those things I dream of.
Thursday, August 15, 2019
Who Do You Say You Are?
I've already written about this topic on my WP blog. But I wanted to come here and write something as well. This is still "home" for me, where my blog journey began. Before I dive in though.....
Full Moon Blessings!!
We're out of the Mercury Retrograde and it's shadow phase? I think they call it.
There seems to be some talk of this moon bringing about things coming to an end, releasing, etc.
Yet I feel like I hear that every other full moon too.
I am sad. I found out via FB that my oldest aunt passed away. Others knew hours before I did, but no one let me know. It was by luck I saw my cousin's post. If anything made me feel less a part of my family, it was probably this.
My Aunt J was my second god mother, meaning she was my sponsor at my Confirmation. It was at her house that I spent about two weeks every summer with my parents. She is the one who taught me how to crochet. It is from her that I get my love of crafting. I wish I had learned more from her, especially the finer points of crochet. I used to marvel at how she didn't even have to watch her stitches. She used to just watch TV and hook away. It was like magic. She was 94.
Maybe I'm over reacting. Maybe I'm being too sensitive. Maybe it's that I never felt like I was a part of the family, like I was an outsider. I don't know. I'm not making a stink over it or a fuss....hell I this is the first I'm even saying anything about it. I don't feel saying anything would be useful. So I let it all go, I release it.
Full Moon Blessings!!
We're out of the Mercury Retrograde and it's shadow phase? I think they call it.
There seems to be some talk of this moon bringing about things coming to an end, releasing, etc.
Yet I feel like I hear that every other full moon too.
I am sad. I found out via FB that my oldest aunt passed away. Others knew hours before I did, but no one let me know. It was by luck I saw my cousin's post. If anything made me feel less a part of my family, it was probably this.
My Aunt J was my second god mother, meaning she was my sponsor at my Confirmation. It was at her house that I spent about two weeks every summer with my parents. She is the one who taught me how to crochet. It is from her that I get my love of crafting. I wish I had learned more from her, especially the finer points of crochet. I used to marvel at how she didn't even have to watch her stitches. She used to just watch TV and hook away. It was like magic. She was 94.
Maybe I'm over reacting. Maybe I'm being too sensitive. Maybe it's that I never felt like I was a part of the family, like I was an outsider. I don't know. I'm not making a stink over it or a fuss....hell I this is the first I'm even saying anything about it. I don't feel saying anything would be useful. So I let it all go, I release it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alrighty....so........that question.......
It was posed by a lovely lady named Cynthia Lee.
I saw the question come up last night in my feed.
And it was like a light bulb. Or a slap in the face...like a "hey you! wake up!"
If you have followed along here for awhile, then you more or less know my story.
I grew being told I wasn't enough. That I was an accident and shouldn't have been born.
My father believed that my mother tried to "loose" me in her pregnancy but having
"accidents". I've been told I'm stubborn, and I must be to some extent because I'm here, she
couldn't get rid of me if his beliefs were true. I've been told I'm stupid and gullible. That I'm
not good enough, that no one would ever want me.
Move onto my marriage where I was also told I wasn't good enough. No one would ever want
me. That I was crazy, lazy, and stupid. That I didn't do things the right way because they weren't
his way or how his mother did them. That everything was my fault, even when it wasn't.
So this question, to me is asking me "WHO DO I THINK I AM?"
I have struggled with this for some time. I always try to push to the back corner of my mind and
try to ignore it. I don't have the confidence to answer it with conviction.
Whenever someone asks me what do you do. I will notice myself shrinking. I'll kind of bow my
head and look around at the ground or away from the person. I won't make eye contact at this point.
Then in a small voice, I might say "I'm an artist" or "I'm a writer." And immediately, I feel guilty and like I am a fraud. How dare I claim those titles?
I struggle and flounder when I call myself a survivor or try to think of myself as a warrior.
I find it near impossible to call myself an advocate or think of myself as a potential one.
I mean how many times have I been told or implied that what I went through is nothing. That
others experienced way worse than I did. Basically they fall short of saying that any of what I've
been through was any form of abuse. I'm usually considered to be over reacting. Making a mountain
out of a mole hill.
I feel like I have block so much out of my memory, there is so much I can't remember. And then, there will be vivid snippets of things. I think people think that I'm not a survivor because of the
numerous times I went back to my physical abuser. And people that know the not yet ex, find it
impossible to believe that he was emotionally and psychologically abusive. Around others, he's such a charmer. Even when he'd make remarks to me, they laugh at it and act like it wasn't anything.
But they had no idea what it was doing to me. When I finally understood myself that it was abuse, I tried to open up to people I thought I could be open with. But my cries for help fell on deaf ears. I got the "you made your bed, you lie in it" vibe.
In the last year, as I've gotten closer to turning 50...I feel like I am shifting.
All my life, I've been told who and what I am. And I let that define me and be my story.
But those things aren't true. They are lies I was told.
I've been trying to find the path to what my true story is. Who am I without what I was told I am?
All my life, I did what was expected of me. Have a "real" job, get married, have kids, have a house.
The time in church tried to make me believe I was to be obedient and submissive. Tried to tell me who to be friends with and who not to. What I should and should not believe. Don't question the pastor.
I was made to feel less than because I didn't finish college. I was made to feel less than because I enjoyed working in fast food over working in an office or even retail.
I was made to feel less than because I have dental problems and am paralyzingly terrified to get it taken care (besides being unable to even afford it).
I was made to feel less than because I didn't fix up my hair and put on make up or because I didn't dress a certain way.
I think I have finally made it to the point where I can say FUCK IT!
No, I don't usually wear make up. I prefer not to. But on an occasion, I'll put some on.
I'm tired of dressing how I'm supposed to or to please someone. I like my black clothing!
I like my dark colors. But I also like things flow-y, almost hippy or peasant like. I've never been
comfortable showing off my goods so to speak.
I would rather where my hair up in a messy bun or in braids.
I'm not quite to where I can boldly speak my truth or what is on my mind.
I feel guilty whenever I do and second guess for days or weeks. But I'm working on it.
I am working on confidently calling myself an artist, a writer, and a budding photographer.
These will take time, and hopefully eventually I will become more comfortable and confident in calling myself these things.
I often shy away from calling myself Pagan because people automatically assume you worship Satan and sacrifice things. I've considered just telling people I'm Catholic and leaving it there.
I'm struggling to find balance in what my path actually is.
I'm a wanna be Druid, who has eclectic witchy leanings, who wants to worship the Goddess, but yet honor Mary and Mary Magdalene. Talk about pot luck, eh?
I know my path and my beliefs are my own, and I owe no one any explanations.
It's hard unlearning all the things you were ingrained with that broke you.
But I think, little by little I am evolving into the person I was meant to be.
So...in a rather shaky voice...I say that I am a survivor, a warrior, a healer, an artist, a writer, a Nature lover, a budding photographer, an aspiring Druidess, a Goddess loving worshiper, a Mary and Mary Magdalene honorer, and so much more that I have yet to discover.
Monday, July 29, 2019
Trying To Find A Happy Medium
I'm still trying to find that happy place with my bedroom.
UGH! What a pain in the ass that is.
I want my creative space by the window, but the cats won't
allow for that. So it's still in the corner by the window.
Even if I switch it all around, there's no guarantee I'll be
satisfied lol.
My two short walls are a closet on one and the window in
the middle of the other. Then I have two long walls, one shorter
because of the doorway to the hall and it has the heating vent.
Even if I just flip the bed and dresser, I'm sort of in the same
pickle, just a mirror image. If I put the bed by the window then
the room becomes super narrow with the dresser and I'll
more than likely have no room for my art corner.
I think ideally I need a new dresser or two. Instead of one long one
I should have two tall ones. I think my art corner should probably
be more of a corner type desk, instead of the drop leaf table that it is.
I can drop the sides but then I have almost no work space.
I just moved out a smaller three drawer piece I was using for art
supplies. But the poor thing was so warped and swelled from
having been outside, it was getting unusable. I thought that
when I painted it, it would help the wood but that
didn't happen. And so, as much as I love how it turned out...
it just isn't practical.
I know things would be easier to figure out if I had my
art shed. But that is still just in the planning phase. Trying to
figure out what supplies I would need and how much of it.
Trying to determine the best size and location on the property for
it. Is it better to buy a premade or kit or is it better to just
build it ourselves? Then I thought maybe it would be better
and cheaper to just get an old camper trailer. Could remodel
the inside some or just change up the coloring, new carpeting,
new curtains and seat covers. That is an option. But there's the
trick of getting it here and it not costing a fortune.
If/when I have that, then I'd have some more space to play with
in my bedroom and maybe then I could find some happy medium
with it.
Or maybe I'm just using this all as excuse to distract my mind
from things I should be doing. By dwelling on this, I'm not
doing or making anything. Then again, it's been too damn hot
to even breathe.
Ah well, I'm sure I'll figure it out eventually.
UGH! What a pain in the ass that is.
I want my creative space by the window, but the cats won't
allow for that. So it's still in the corner by the window.
Even if I switch it all around, there's no guarantee I'll be
satisfied lol.
My two short walls are a closet on one and the window in
the middle of the other. Then I have two long walls, one shorter
because of the doorway to the hall and it has the heating vent.
Even if I just flip the bed and dresser, I'm sort of in the same
pickle, just a mirror image. If I put the bed by the window then
the room becomes super narrow with the dresser and I'll
more than likely have no room for my art corner.
I think ideally I need a new dresser or two. Instead of one long one
I should have two tall ones. I think my art corner should probably
be more of a corner type desk, instead of the drop leaf table that it is.
I can drop the sides but then I have almost no work space.
I just moved out a smaller three drawer piece I was using for art
supplies. But the poor thing was so warped and swelled from
having been outside, it was getting unusable. I thought that
when I painted it, it would help the wood but that
didn't happen. And so, as much as I love how it turned out...
it just isn't practical.
I know things would be easier to figure out if I had my
art shed. But that is still just in the planning phase. Trying to
figure out what supplies I would need and how much of it.
Trying to determine the best size and location on the property for
it. Is it better to buy a premade or kit or is it better to just
build it ourselves? Then I thought maybe it would be better
and cheaper to just get an old camper trailer. Could remodel
the inside some or just change up the coloring, new carpeting,
new curtains and seat covers. That is an option. But there's the
trick of getting it here and it not costing a fortune.
If/when I have that, then I'd have some more space to play with
in my bedroom and maybe then I could find some happy medium
with it.
Or maybe I'm just using this all as excuse to distract my mind
from things I should be doing. By dwelling on this, I'm not
doing or making anything. Then again, it's been too damn hot
to even breathe.
Ah well, I'm sure I'll figure it out eventually.
Friday, July 26, 2019
Starseeds
Started falling down that Google rabbit hole again.
Looking at stuff about Starseeds. I vaguely recall hearing
the term some time ago and was curious about it but never really
dove much into it.
The term came up again in a group I'm in on FB. And of
course my curiosity was piqued again. I had no idea there were
some many types. Apparently they come from different sectors like
Orion or Alpha Senturi or Andromeda. I think one site said there
were seven places?
I guess when you feel like you don't belong anywhere.
When you feel like a black sheep or an outcast, an outsider.
When no matter where you are, you have a longing for a home
or a place you aren't even sure exists.
These things make a bit more sense when you start reading about
Starseeds.
Maybe it's all just a bunch of malarkey. Maybe there's something
to it. I know there are people out there that firmly believe in this
sort of thing. But if as the saying goes, "we are all made of stardust"
perhaps this thing isn't so far fetched after all.
Maybe it's the desire to learn and the philosophical aspects of my
astrology signs that are sparking these curiosities.
I couldn't say.
People think I'm already off my rocker most of the time anyway.
So what's one more quirk? Right?
No, I haven't lost my mind.
No, I'm not going to get weird.
Though, depending on who you ask they'd say I already have
lost my mind and that I am already weird.
I just think it's an interesting subject and if nothing else,
maybe I can use it in my writing.
Looking at stuff about Starseeds. I vaguely recall hearing
the term some time ago and was curious about it but never really
dove much into it.
The term came up again in a group I'm in on FB. And of
course my curiosity was piqued again. I had no idea there were
some many types. Apparently they come from different sectors like
Orion or Alpha Senturi or Andromeda. I think one site said there
were seven places?
I guess when you feel like you don't belong anywhere.
When you feel like a black sheep or an outcast, an outsider.
When no matter where you are, you have a longing for a home
or a place you aren't even sure exists.
These things make a bit more sense when you start reading about
Starseeds.
Maybe it's all just a bunch of malarkey. Maybe there's something
to it. I know there are people out there that firmly believe in this
sort of thing. But if as the saying goes, "we are all made of stardust"
perhaps this thing isn't so far fetched after all.
Maybe it's the desire to learn and the philosophical aspects of my
astrology signs that are sparking these curiosities.
I couldn't say.
People think I'm already off my rocker most of the time anyway.
So what's one more quirk? Right?
No, I haven't lost my mind.
No, I'm not going to get weird.
Though, depending on who you ask they'd say I already have
lost my mind and that I am already weird.
I just think it's an interesting subject and if nothing else,
maybe I can use it in my writing.
Thursday, July 25, 2019
Astrology And Me
I long thought, since I was a kid really,
that my sign was the one I was born under.
Period! The End!
That I was born a Scorpio and that's all there was.
Over time, (eight years ago, I suppose) I found out
there was more to. There's Ascendant and Moon and
a shit ton of other things. Houses and Ruling planets.
Being curious, I've on and off tried to look into things.
But I look at my chart...you know the ones you can do
for free online. And so much of it like gibberish to me.
I've discovered my rising/ascendant is Capricorn.
And that my moon sign is Gemini.
Now, what I've been reading on just those alone has been
enlightening. An eye opener.
It explains why I feel so restless and/or unsettled.
It explains why I often feel like I need to get to the bottom
of things. Like why was my mother how she was. This might
be because of my Moon sign.
I've been told I'm much too conservative. And that might
be as a result of my Ascendant.
My Sun sign seems to explain my desire for authenticity
and seeking the truth.
I haven't yet gone passed all this.
It's quite overwhelming.
I'm in a group where people are talking about 11th house
stuff and what not. And I'm completely lost.
My 4th, 6th, 7th, 11th, and 12th houses all show up as blank.
No signs, stars, planets, asteroids as far as I can tell. I was just
told though that your 11th house cannot be empty. I don't understand
what that means.
To be honest, I don't understand any of it.
Maybe I can learn.
Another question came up about whether you were a Rainbow, a
Crystal, an Indigo, a Starseed, or a Light worker/warrior. I thought there
used to be some online quiz thing to help determine it but I can't find it.
Though from what I just was reading, it appears I might be an
Indigo.
What does that mean? Hell if I know for sure. But it sure does
explain why I never felt like I belonged and many it seems have
gone through trauma or abuse in there childhood and teens.
Why do I even care about this stuff?
I dunno. It's fascinating for one.
I think it's something I've always been curious about.
Just looking at these four things, seems to explain or
clarify some things for me.
Maybe it's because 50 is approaching and I feel like
I need to understand why things happened. Maybe
it can help me figure out who I am and what my purposes is.
If nothing else, maybe I'll just learn about about astrology.
Or it will pass and I will put on the back burner like so
many other things.
Either way, I'll enjoy what I discover for now.
that my sign was the one I was born under.
Period! The End!
That I was born a Scorpio and that's all there was.
Over time, (eight years ago, I suppose) I found out
there was more to. There's Ascendant and Moon and
a shit ton of other things. Houses and Ruling planets.
Being curious, I've on and off tried to look into things.
But I look at my chart...you know the ones you can do
for free online. And so much of it like gibberish to me.
I've discovered my rising/ascendant is Capricorn.
And that my moon sign is Gemini.
Now, what I've been reading on just those alone has been
enlightening. An eye opener.
It explains why I feel so restless and/or unsettled.
It explains why I often feel like I need to get to the bottom
of things. Like why was my mother how she was. This might
be because of my Moon sign.
I've been told I'm much too conservative. And that might
be as a result of my Ascendant.
My Sun sign seems to explain my desire for authenticity
and seeking the truth.
I haven't yet gone passed all this.
It's quite overwhelming.
I'm in a group where people are talking about 11th house
stuff and what not. And I'm completely lost.
My 4th, 6th, 7th, 11th, and 12th houses all show up as blank.
No signs, stars, planets, asteroids as far as I can tell. I was just
told though that your 11th house cannot be empty. I don't understand
what that means.
To be honest, I don't understand any of it.
Maybe I can learn.
Another question came up about whether you were a Rainbow, a
Crystal, an Indigo, a Starseed, or a Light worker/warrior. I thought there
used to be some online quiz thing to help determine it but I can't find it.
Though from what I just was reading, it appears I might be an
Indigo.
What does that mean? Hell if I know for sure. But it sure does
explain why I never felt like I belonged and many it seems have
gone through trauma or abuse in there childhood and teens.
Why do I even care about this stuff?
I dunno. It's fascinating for one.
I think it's something I've always been curious about.
Just looking at these four things, seems to explain or
clarify some things for me.
Maybe it's because 50 is approaching and I feel like
I need to understand why things happened. Maybe
it can help me figure out who I am and what my purposes is.
If nothing else, maybe I'll just learn about about astrology.
Or it will pass and I will put on the back burner like so
many other things.
Either way, I'll enjoy what I discover for now.
Sunday, July 21, 2019
Worth It!!!
I've probably pushed my limits the last couple of weeks.
Helping move one of the sections of that tree that fell last year.
Peopling...
I've been fighting off a flare, I can feel it.
Last night I peopled again.....
40,000+ peoples!!!!
But OMFG it was totally worth it.
It was worth hiking the bleachers to Row N.
Even though I was scare shit (I don't do heights!!)
I was worth the trek back down
After 3 freaking hours of
GARTH FREAKIN' BROOKS!
I swear, if you would have told me 20 some odd years ago
that I'd see him live....I would have told you that you were fucking crazy.
No way in a million years would that happen.
But the million years came early and I saw him last night.
My body aches.
I'm bloody fucking exhausted.
We eventually made it home about 3 AM.
My throat feels a bit raw from all the screaming, hootin' and hollerin'.
BUT....it was fucking worth it.
He sang old songs, new songs, Bob Seager song.
He said they were off set list by about the third song in.
It was amazing.
One of the best concerts I've been to.
It was a memorable night.
Please brain....don't forget this one so easily, yeah.
Helping move one of the sections of that tree that fell last year.
Peopling...
I've been fighting off a flare, I can feel it.
Last night I peopled again.....
40,000+ peoples!!!!
But OMFG it was totally worth it.
It was worth hiking the bleachers to Row N.
Even though I was scare shit (I don't do heights!!)
I was worth the trek back down
After 3 freaking hours of
GARTH FREAKIN' BROOKS!
I swear, if you would have told me 20 some odd years ago
that I'd see him live....I would have told you that you were fucking crazy.
No way in a million years would that happen.
But the million years came early and I saw him last night.
My body aches.
I'm bloody fucking exhausted.
We eventually made it home about 3 AM.
My throat feels a bit raw from all the screaming, hootin' and hollerin'.
BUT....it was fucking worth it.
He sang old songs, new songs, Bob Seager song.
He said they were off set list by about the third song in.
It was amazing.
One of the best concerts I've been to.
It was a memorable night.
Please brain....don't forget this one so easily, yeah.
Saturday, July 13, 2019
Busy Busy Busy
It's a hot one today. But at least it isn't as hot as it was originally forecasted a few days ago.
On Facebook, I saw that today is 42 years ago that the Blackout of '77 happened.
I remember that night. I was 7? 8? Maybe 7 going on 8. Eh...anyway...lol
We were on our way home from the Mt. Carmel Feast in Williamsburg. We had just
crossed the street. Mom and aunt were talking, my aunt was pushing my one cousin
in his stroller. While me and my other cousin were walking slightly ahead of them when
the street light went out. And then all the lights went out! We got to the building my aunt
lived in. At first everyone thought it was temporary and that it would come back on soon.
Then her landlady started dishing up her ice cream to us kids because it was melting.
My dad and my uncle were off crabbing and fishing in Rockaway and we had no way to
reach them. I don't remember us going home, but I know we did and it was hot.
Now, I see that NYC is experiencing a blackout!!! How crazy! Hopefully it won't last as
long as the one in '77.
I finally made it over to the court house to make some inquiries. I came home with my
blank petitions for name change and request for a waiver of the fees. The waiver has to be
approved by a judge. It has as many questions on it as if you were applying for a loan or credit.
I have to fill all the stuff out and make umpteen copies of them. I don't know how to handle it though. I'd like to be sure I have enough in case I don't get approved for the waiver. I don't want to
get the ball rolling only to have that denied. So I don't know how that would work. But at least I have all the stuff!!!
Also picked up my passport card renewal form and got all those questions answered too.
So, I checked some things off the To Do List!!
No matter what I do, I will probably wait until Mercury goes direct.
That is what one does when court stuff is involved, right?
Don't do anything requiring signing legal documents or what have you?
I think I read that somewhere but I haven't heard anything about it this retrograde.
Either way, it'll probably take me that long to get stuff filled out and copied.
It was a busy week for us.
One of the puppers had to have more or less emergency dental stuff done and
ended up with 15 teeth pulled. But my goodness...what a trooper he is. He's done so
well and we're so proud of him.
Mom's had PT and dr's appointments this week.
There was some shopping to be done.
Another PT appointment.
Now one of the cats appears to have worms but we don't know which one.
Only one possibility really, but we got stuff for ALL the cats.
Seven!
The liquid stuff was pretty easy.
But pilling these guys was no picnic. And we still have 2 to pill yet.
The stuff they gave us works pretty good and fast so, I think we'll be fine.
Next week is about as busy.
More PT for her knee.
Stickers goes back for a recheck on that eye of his.
It's better but not. We'll find out were that stands on Wednesday.
Then Saturday is Garth Brooks!! WOOT WOOT!!!
We'll get a breather in there somewhere lol
On Facebook, I saw that today is 42 years ago that the Blackout of '77 happened.
I remember that night. I was 7? 8? Maybe 7 going on 8. Eh...anyway...lol
We were on our way home from the Mt. Carmel Feast in Williamsburg. We had just
crossed the street. Mom and aunt were talking, my aunt was pushing my one cousin
in his stroller. While me and my other cousin were walking slightly ahead of them when
the street light went out. And then all the lights went out! We got to the building my aunt
lived in. At first everyone thought it was temporary and that it would come back on soon.
Then her landlady started dishing up her ice cream to us kids because it was melting.
My dad and my uncle were off crabbing and fishing in Rockaway and we had no way to
reach them. I don't remember us going home, but I know we did and it was hot.
Now, I see that NYC is experiencing a blackout!!! How crazy! Hopefully it won't last as
long as the one in '77.
I finally made it over to the court house to make some inquiries. I came home with my
blank petitions for name change and request for a waiver of the fees. The waiver has to be
approved by a judge. It has as many questions on it as if you were applying for a loan or credit.
I have to fill all the stuff out and make umpteen copies of them. I don't know how to handle it though. I'd like to be sure I have enough in case I don't get approved for the waiver. I don't want to
get the ball rolling only to have that denied. So I don't know how that would work. But at least I have all the stuff!!!
Also picked up my passport card renewal form and got all those questions answered too.
So, I checked some things off the To Do List!!
No matter what I do, I will probably wait until Mercury goes direct.
That is what one does when court stuff is involved, right?
Don't do anything requiring signing legal documents or what have you?
I think I read that somewhere but I haven't heard anything about it this retrograde.
Either way, it'll probably take me that long to get stuff filled out and copied.
It was a busy week for us.
One of the puppers had to have more or less emergency dental stuff done and
ended up with 15 teeth pulled. But my goodness...what a trooper he is. He's done so
well and we're so proud of him.
Mom's had PT and dr's appointments this week.
There was some shopping to be done.
Another PT appointment.
Now one of the cats appears to have worms but we don't know which one.
Only one possibility really, but we got stuff for ALL the cats.
Seven!
The liquid stuff was pretty easy.
But pilling these guys was no picnic. And we still have 2 to pill yet.
The stuff they gave us works pretty good and fast so, I think we'll be fine.
Next week is about as busy.
More PT for her knee.
Stickers goes back for a recheck on that eye of his.
It's better but not. We'll find out were that stands on Wednesday.
Then Saturday is Garth Brooks!! WOOT WOOT!!!
We'll get a breather in there somewhere lol
Sunday, July 7, 2019
Oh Hey, It's Only Been A Month
To the day even.
Wow!
I didn't intend to not post for this long.
Life just got crazy.
Surprise, surprise.
June seemed a crazy month.
It was hot then cool then hot then cool.
At one point, we even had to turn the heaters back on!!
It got that cool.
One day, you're in shorts and a t-shirt, the next day you're
breaking out the sweatshirt and jeans again.
We lost our oldest cat. She just turned 16 a few months ago.
She was a diabetic cat.
We think she went into renal failure and quite suddenly.
She was fine one day and declined fast the next.
She made it through the night, and we thought she was improving
and maybe it wasn't renal failure after all. But the next morning
she started having seizures and we were able to rush her in. The only
thing the vet could do was help her cross the rainbow bridge.
Then our stray came back around and his eye was a mess. We put
some salve in it but he didn't like that so he disappeared again for a couple
day. When he came back around the eye was worse. So, after two days
of trying for an appointment, finally got him seen. The boy certainly
likes to live up to his name....Stickers. He had a giant fox tail in his eye.
So we've had to keep him in a room in the house and give him
antibiotics. He's on his second bottle. And goes back again in ten days
to see if he can keep the eye. He's the sweetest thing. No way he's feral
as we first thought when he showed up the first time over 3 years ago.
I wish we could keep him in, but our boy is an ass about stuff like that
so it might not go well. Can't say how the girls would be. Let's hope he
can keep the eye. Just to have him seen, the fox tail removed,
vaccinations, and 2 weeks of meds, oh and a dewormer pill...$125!!
The most expensive thing after the visit is the meds.
I made some art for the first time in a good couple of months.
I made a piece from a class by Denise Daffara.
It was really fun to do. I thought I messed it up a few times in the face.
But it turned out okay. Except I think I made the cheeks too dark, but I
can't fix that or I'll put a hole in the paper.
Unbeknownst to me at the time, I ended up painting in a rune symbol on her
face. That turned out to resemble Algiz.
I'm still dwelling a lot on what is sacred to me. Where my path lies and all
that stuff. Of course, Mary and the Magdalene, Brigid and Cerridwen,
Rhiannon, they all call to me in different ways. The class was called
"Priestess on My Page". And while I don't know who if any my painting
represents. The rune seems fitting.
It is a symbol of the Valkyrie. Something that fascinates me.
It is a symbol of protection, blending self with nature, divine guidance.
Also symbolizes a connections with the gods, shield, awakening.
In another reference, it symbolizes the Elk and also the Reed.
The Reed, also happens to be my Celtic Tree astrology symbol!!
I feel like there might some messages coming through here.
Must.Pay.Attention.
100 Days Project is almost at an end. I only missed one day.
I'm not happy that I missed one, but shit happens. I'll be making it up and
therefore will finish a day late.
I'm just proud of myself for sticking with something for 100 days!
It's another round of Camp NaNoWriMo. I've committed to 15,500
words this month. I've actually got a story idea that I might be able
to work through and it might even be able to connect with my original
idea from oh so long ago. There's definitely possibilities at least.
Hope all is well with everyone.
Wow!
I didn't intend to not post for this long.
Life just got crazy.
Surprise, surprise.
June seemed a crazy month.
It was hot then cool then hot then cool.
At one point, we even had to turn the heaters back on!!
It got that cool.
One day, you're in shorts and a t-shirt, the next day you're
breaking out the sweatshirt and jeans again.
We lost our oldest cat. She just turned 16 a few months ago.
She was a diabetic cat.
We think she went into renal failure and quite suddenly.
She was fine one day and declined fast the next.
She made it through the night, and we thought she was improving
and maybe it wasn't renal failure after all. But the next morning
she started having seizures and we were able to rush her in. The only
thing the vet could do was help her cross the rainbow bridge.
Then our stray came back around and his eye was a mess. We put
some salve in it but he didn't like that so he disappeared again for a couple
day. When he came back around the eye was worse. So, after two days
of trying for an appointment, finally got him seen. The boy certainly
likes to live up to his name....Stickers. He had a giant fox tail in his eye.
So we've had to keep him in a room in the house and give him
antibiotics. He's on his second bottle. And goes back again in ten days
to see if he can keep the eye. He's the sweetest thing. No way he's feral
as we first thought when he showed up the first time over 3 years ago.
I wish we could keep him in, but our boy is an ass about stuff like that
so it might not go well. Can't say how the girls would be. Let's hope he
can keep the eye. Just to have him seen, the fox tail removed,
vaccinations, and 2 weeks of meds, oh and a dewormer pill...$125!!
The most expensive thing after the visit is the meds.
I made some art for the first time in a good couple of months.
I made a piece from a class by Denise Daffara.
It was really fun to do. I thought I messed it up a few times in the face.
But it turned out okay. Except I think I made the cheeks too dark, but I
can't fix that or I'll put a hole in the paper.
Unbeknownst to me at the time, I ended up painting in a rune symbol on her
face. That turned out to resemble Algiz.
I'm still dwelling a lot on what is sacred to me. Where my path lies and all
that stuff. Of course, Mary and the Magdalene, Brigid and Cerridwen,
Rhiannon, they all call to me in different ways. The class was called
"Priestess on My Page". And while I don't know who if any my painting
represents. The rune seems fitting.
It is a symbol of the Valkyrie. Something that fascinates me.
It is a symbol of protection, blending self with nature, divine guidance.
Also symbolizes a connections with the gods, shield, awakening.
In another reference, it symbolizes the Elk and also the Reed.
The Reed, also happens to be my Celtic Tree astrology symbol!!
I feel like there might some messages coming through here.
Must.Pay.Attention.
100 Days Project is almost at an end. I only missed one day.
I'm not happy that I missed one, but shit happens. I'll be making it up and
therefore will finish a day late.
I'm just proud of myself for sticking with something for 100 days!
It's another round of Camp NaNoWriMo. I've committed to 15,500
words this month. I've actually got a story idea that I might be able
to work through and it might even be able to connect with my original
idea from oh so long ago. There's definitely possibilities at least.
Hope all is well with everyone.
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