It has been thunderstorming all day, and it's been really nice.
Also, I got through the rest of season two of ONCE UPON A TIME. I need more. Right now. Pronto.
-m
Saturday, August 31, 2013
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Catharsis
Writing the first blog post of the day is really hard (mostly because you expect today's to be phenomenal and amazing and so much better than yesterday's this has to be the best written post in the world or you cannot post it not true just press the post button).
Afterwards, though, you just want to keep posting. Pressing that button and having it published on your blog is really cathartic. It's getting all of these ideas and emotions out there in a medium that I am the most comfortable in. It's a great release. Your blog and your readers (however few they may be) end up feeling like one of your best friends.
-m
Afterwards, though, you just want to keep posting. Pressing that button and having it published on your blog is really cathartic. It's getting all of these ideas and emotions out there in a medium that I am the most comfortable in. It's a great release. Your blog and your readers (however few they may be) end up feeling like one of your best friends.
-m
Walking Is Not As Easy As Babies Make It Look
I mean, I think that the title says it all. Babies make it look all fun and adventurous and bouncy, and no one gets frustrated with a baby not being able to walk. Not even them (or if they do, then they don't remember it so it's like it never happened. Do babies even know what frustration feels like?).
Yesterday I got cleared to put full weight on my knee, which means "TOSS THOSE CRUTCHES OUT, SUCKAS, YOU BE WALKIN' NOW." This is a paraphrase of what my doctor told me.
Now, I am beyond excited to walk. I've been moaning and pining for the day where I didn't have to lug Galileo and Magellan (my crutches) around and be able to walk and do things and be active, because as fun as couch-potatoing it sounds in theory, after a few days it really sucks. Not even STAR TREK: TNG can make it un-suck. It just makes it a little less suckier.
Here's the thing about walking, though: you do it without even thinking about it. This is not a royal "you," a general entity that I consider myself a part of even though I used the pronoun "you." I am not included in this. Reader, if you can walk, then YOU are the "you" that I am referring to.
Get up and walk around the room real quick. Just a couple seconds. Go on.
See? You don't really have to think about it. You tell your brain "I want to walk in circles around the room" and suddenly you're doing it. It's not quite that easy for someone who has not been able to walk for a month or so. Believe it or not, you can actually forget how to walk, and so trying to walk is an awkward "wait, where does this go, do I move this now, how do I bend this, is this a weird angle to bend, is it heel first and then toe or toe first and then heel?"
Needless to say, this makes walking very slow and even more tiresome.
Maybe I can get a baby to tutor me.
-m
Yesterday I got cleared to put full weight on my knee, which means "TOSS THOSE CRUTCHES OUT, SUCKAS, YOU BE WALKIN' NOW." This is a paraphrase of what my doctor told me.
Now, I am beyond excited to walk. I've been moaning and pining for the day where I didn't have to lug Galileo and Magellan (my crutches) around and be able to walk and do things and be active, because as fun as couch-potatoing it sounds in theory, after a few days it really sucks. Not even STAR TREK: TNG can make it un-suck. It just makes it a little less suckier.
Here's the thing about walking, though: you do it without even thinking about it. This is not a royal "you," a general entity that I consider myself a part of even though I used the pronoun "you." I am not included in this. Reader, if you can walk, then YOU are the "you" that I am referring to.
Get up and walk around the room real quick. Just a couple seconds. Go on.
See? You don't really have to think about it. You tell your brain "I want to walk in circles around the room" and suddenly you're doing it. It's not quite that easy for someone who has not been able to walk for a month or so. Believe it or not, you can actually forget how to walk, and so trying to walk is an awkward "wait, where does this go, do I move this now, how do I bend this, is this a weird angle to bend, is it heel first and then toe or toe first and then heel?"
Needless to say, this makes walking very slow and even more tiresome.
Maybe I can get a baby to tutor me.
-m
Monday, August 26, 2013
Night Vale And Hot Chocolate
Question:
Why is it that the only time I have hot chocolate, it's two cups in August?
I've been listening to a new podcast that has blown up on the internet. May I recommend to you, dear readers, WELCOME TO NIGHT VALE. Go look it up on YouTube. I have no links for you today (I know, I know, bad blogger). It's the weirdest thing in the most charming way, and it goes from quirky fun to inspirational thought in a split second. Oh, yeah, Cecil. You keep talking 'bout that third eye of yours.
Why is it that the only time I have hot chocolate, it's two cups in August?
I've been listening to a new podcast that has blown up on the internet. May I recommend to you, dear readers, WELCOME TO NIGHT VALE. Go look it up on YouTube. I have no links for you today (I know, I know, bad blogger). It's the weirdest thing in the most charming way, and it goes from quirky fun to inspirational thought in a split second. Oh, yeah, Cecil. You keep talking 'bout that third eye of yours.
I Might Be Psychic
A great deal of you know that every few weeks, I have really vivid dreams. Now, lately these dreams have been mostly nightmares that have terrified me to the point of panic -- I tend to die very painful deaths in them (that's right, folks. I actually die. And it REALLY hurts).
Now, I recently had another bout of vivid dreams (actually, I'm still having them), and it's turning out to be...well, interesting. They aren't nightmares (thank goodness), but they've just gotten a little odd.
Have two examples:
1. I have a friend. He appeared in my dream one night, and during the dream he pointed out some Star Wars Olympics that were going on. Don't ask me what the Star Wars Olympics are, I don't know, all I remember is a Yoda-like creature on a pretty-dang-close-to-vertical obstacle course. That's beside the point. The point, dear readers, is that when I woke up, I immediately texted him, and he had been playing KOTOR 2 (for those of you unfamiliar with Star Wars video games, KOTOR 2 is an Xbox game, and it stands for Knights of the Old Republic. I'm a fan of the first one, and of that segment of Star Wars history in general. I like it much better than the post-Empirical New Jedi Order era).
2. That dream up above wouldn't really mean anything if this next one hadn't happened. Let me give you a brief character list.
Characters:
Me - a girl/woman/female entity. I need a little less introduction than these others.
BOY 1 - a boy with who I went on a second date with.
BOY 2 - another boy from the Singles Branch who I find very attractive and witty and smart, and who I had a huge crush on last summer.
Settings:
DREAM - the dream that I had the night before the second date with BOY 1.
DATE - Joseph-Beth Booksellers, the best bookstore/duck pond around. It's like Heaven on Earth. I could live there for forever.
And now, the psychic event.
DREAM:
In my dream, I am supposed to be going on a date with BOY 1, but I don't want to. It's not because I don't like the guy, I do, he's nice, but I'm in love with BOY 2 and he's in love with me, too, and the dream consists of us trying to hide from BOY 2 and expressing our feelings and trying to kiss. That was it, that was the dream.
DATE:
So BOY 1 and I are on our date, we've fed the ducks, we're browsing books. Out of nowhere I hear someone calling my name, and I look over to see BOY 2 coming up to us. He was browsing, hanging around to listen to one of the outside musical appearances of a (I presume) local musician. He suggested we go see them. We did.
Now, a few things of note:
1. He called my name, not the name of BOY 1 that he's known for longer.
2. During 98.2% of the conversation, eye contact and conversation was directed towards me, not BOY 1.
Conclusion:
Based on the contents of these dreams and the events on the days directly after, I have no choice but to assume that I am, in fact, psychic. Feel free to come and get a reading, prices will be determined upon request. Payment plans are available.
-m
Now, I recently had another bout of vivid dreams (actually, I'm still having them), and it's turning out to be...well, interesting. They aren't nightmares (thank goodness), but they've just gotten a little odd.
Have two examples:
1. I have a friend. He appeared in my dream one night, and during the dream he pointed out some Star Wars Olympics that were going on. Don't ask me what the Star Wars Olympics are, I don't know, all I remember is a Yoda-like creature on a pretty-dang-close-to-vertical obstacle course. That's beside the point. The point, dear readers, is that when I woke up, I immediately texted him, and he had been playing KOTOR 2 (for those of you unfamiliar with Star Wars video games, KOTOR 2 is an Xbox game, and it stands for Knights of the Old Republic. I'm a fan of the first one, and of that segment of Star Wars history in general. I like it much better than the post-Empirical New Jedi Order era).
2. That dream up above wouldn't really mean anything if this next one hadn't happened. Let me give you a brief character list.
Characters:
Me - a girl/woman/female entity. I need a little less introduction than these others.
BOY 1 - a boy with who I went on a second date with.
BOY 2 - another boy from the Singles Branch who I find very attractive and witty and smart, and who I had a huge crush on last summer.
Settings:
DREAM - the dream that I had the night before the second date with BOY 1.
DATE - Joseph-Beth Booksellers, the best bookstore/duck pond around. It's like Heaven on Earth. I could live there for forever.
And now, the psychic event.
DREAM:
In my dream, I am supposed to be going on a date with BOY 1, but I don't want to. It's not because I don't like the guy, I do, he's nice, but I'm in love with BOY 2 and he's in love with me, too, and the dream consists of us trying to hide from BOY 2 and expressing our feelings and trying to kiss. That was it, that was the dream.
DATE:
So BOY 1 and I are on our date, we've fed the ducks, we're browsing books. Out of nowhere I hear someone calling my name, and I look over to see BOY 2 coming up to us. He was browsing, hanging around to listen to one of the outside musical appearances of a (I presume) local musician. He suggested we go see them. We did.
Now, a few things of note:
1. He called my name, not the name of BOY 1 that he's known for longer.
2. During 98.2% of the conversation, eye contact and conversation was directed towards me, not BOY 1.
Conclusion:
Based on the contents of these dreams and the events on the days directly after, I have no choice but to assume that I am, in fact, psychic. Feel free to come and get a reading, prices will be determined upon request. Payment plans are available.
-m
Thank You
To all of the people who read this and responded with love and kindness and friendship. You'll never know how much it means to me.
Monday, August 5, 2013
Confessions
There's a reason that I renamed this blog Confessional M. It was essentially for this post, for this one big confessional outpouring that I needed to get out and let you know. If you're reading this blog at all, it's because I have trusted you with the url of it. I want you to know these things about me, even if they are unbearably hard to tell you. No one wants to tell their friends the darker sides of themselves.
And these confessions are very, very dark.
Before you continue reading, I want you to click this link and start this song running. This is the song that I am writing this post to, and the vibe of it works very well with the tone I am trying to set, the message that I am trying to share. Well, okay, maybe it's not that deep, but it's helped me a whole lot while writing this post, and it might make it easier for you to read it. A way for us to connect, as it were.
Go ahead and put it on. I'll wait.
Ready?
These are my confessions:
1. I am a (recovering) self-harmer. I'm in a fairly beginning stage in the process, and it's riddled with relapses and struggles that I am not always dealing with very well. I have been self-harming for the past six or seven years. The things with self-harming is that it's more than an emotional distress. Even in the moments where I find another way out (which is more difficult than it seems when nearly everything is a trigger), it is still an addiction that I must overcome. I am not very successful in this. I keep a knife or other sharp object with me at all times, some band-aids, and usually a cardigan, just to let me know that I have that option. I was very proud of myself for leaving the knife I had bought just for harming in storage at school, but it has not solved my problems. That's because my first entry into self-harm was not a knife. It was myself. I would dig my nails into my skin until I bled, and so that makes every situation a potential lapse -- I use myself as a weapon against myself. That's been my most common form of lapse this summer. It's more immediate and easier to hide. I'm trying very hard to stop, which is often why people at church will notice me drawing, or writing, or drawing butterflies on my arms. I will be going back to school, and that knife will be there, and I don't know if I'm strong enough yet to throw it away. It is very realistic to think that I will have a very large relapse. It's a very scary thought, whatever I choose, whether it's to give in to my addiction, or to make an even larger step towards ridding myself of it. There is no easy way here.
2. I have very serious depression, which has only gotten worse over the years to the point of me coming very close, dangerously close, to committing suicide last fall/winter (the only thing left for me to plan out was the actual date). And me still sometimes planning it out. It's a very serious thing that I am working with. Right now I am not on medication, mostly for reasons of cost and the stigma surrounding it from a cultural and familial standpoint. I will most likely need to start setting those up again, though, because I think that my particular strain is Seasonal Affect Disorder, where during fall and winter I am severely affected, but during summer it lessens up. Not disappears, but lessens up. That also might be because I spend summers at home, usually, where I have to hide it a lot better. At least, I feel like I do. It has been getting worse every year, and with last year being as scary as it was, I'm terrified for what this coming season will bring. Absolutely terrified. If you want to know what this feels like, listen to this song. I've named my depression; his name is Ezra. This is a sort of lullaby he sings to me. Not a very nice one, I'll give 'im that, but very hypnotizing. Impossible to get away from sometimes.
3. I was sexually abused as a child by someone very close both in age and relation to me (no, not a father, or brother, or uncle. But in that vicinity close). To this day I am terrified of physical contact, especially from people who come up from behind me. And especially from men. Just sitting by a guy sends me into panic.I feel very unsafe most of the time. I dislike large crowds, I dislike being in the close vicinity of a man. In fact, there are very few men that I trust (they are the ones reading this. Or, at least, the ones I've offered this post to). Because of a great of bullying growing up, this experience, and especially because this experience was caused by family, my ability to trust has been shattered since early childhood. It takes me an extremely long time to be even remotely trusting with someone. This last year has the been the first time that I have been able to do that, and it terrifies me. I do not like giving someone that kind of control over me. I was conditioned to know that that kind of control was going to be abused, and leave me both hurt and alone. I don't know if I can express the type of danger I feel that I am in every time there is physical contact with someone else -- even if it's a girl, or a really good friend, it makes me scared enough to cry. If I don't initiate the contact, I cannot handle it. I can't even sit next to people (and I thank my roommates for always leaving a spot at group meals for me to sit a little distanced from everyone else, even if they didn't realize they were doing it).
I don't say any of these things to make you feel sorry for me. I am not trying to be melodramatic. I am not begging for sympathy, or being, pardon my french, an "attention whore." I am not doing this to say "oh, look how hard my life is, feel sorry for me." I really hope that it does not come off that way. I understand that, as difficult as it was for me to write/post these things, it's just as hard for you to read. I wanted you to know this because you are the closest thing to me trusting someone that I have gotten to so far. I feel like being open and honest is the best thing both for our relationship and for my recovery. And I need your support. I am getting professional help, but sometimes I question whether I should be, or if I even deserve it. So many people have gone through so much worse, and I often feel like I am blowing my problems out of proportion. It has taken a few people to convince me that professional treatment is exactly the thing that I need, and their support has been what has kept me alive and on the mend for nearly the past year.
I feel like I'm rambling, and that the points that I have been trying to make and the experiences that I have been trying to share have been lost in the process of writing it all out. I'm trying to decide exactly who to send it to. If you have been invited to read this, congratulations. You are part of a very small circle that I have begun to trust. I hope this hasn't scared you off. I thank you for everything that you have done for me: for the time spent with me, for the uplifting way you have made me feel, for my ability to feel safe in your presence. You will never know exactly what you did that made me a better person (I sure don't). I just know that my life would never be the same without you. I honestly consider you one of my greatest friends. This is an opening for discussion both as friends, and for what I write here on this blog. These struggles are very real to me, and I want to be able to share my successes on here and have you know why these small things (like getting through a social experience with harming myself, or channeling something in a different way, or explaining why a certain situation is so hard) and have you understand why it's such a big deal to me.
Honestly, I'm very scared to share this with you, reader. I'm very scared that you will no longer want to be my friend, that I will be too much to handle, or that it will irreparably change our friendship because this is all that you will be thinking about when we are around each other. I hope it does not. I'm still me; I still love buying too many books, watching too many movies, and cooking egregious amounts of chili ramen noodles. I still want to be a college professor, and get married, and have a family one day. I still really want to be your friend.
Thank you for reading this. If you are still willing to continue our friendship after knowing some of the things that I struggle with, I thank you all the more. You mean the moon and more to me.
-m
And these confessions are very, very dark.
Before you continue reading, I want you to click this link and start this song running. This is the song that I am writing this post to, and the vibe of it works very well with the tone I am trying to set, the message that I am trying to share. Well, okay, maybe it's not that deep, but it's helped me a whole lot while writing this post, and it might make it easier for you to read it. A way for us to connect, as it were.
Go ahead and put it on. I'll wait.
Ready?
These are my confessions:
1. I am a (recovering) self-harmer. I'm in a fairly beginning stage in the process, and it's riddled with relapses and struggles that I am not always dealing with very well. I have been self-harming for the past six or seven years. The things with self-harming is that it's more than an emotional distress. Even in the moments where I find another way out (which is more difficult than it seems when nearly everything is a trigger), it is still an addiction that I must overcome. I am not very successful in this. I keep a knife or other sharp object with me at all times, some band-aids, and usually a cardigan, just to let me know that I have that option. I was very proud of myself for leaving the knife I had bought just for harming in storage at school, but it has not solved my problems. That's because my first entry into self-harm was not a knife. It was myself. I would dig my nails into my skin until I bled, and so that makes every situation a potential lapse -- I use myself as a weapon against myself. That's been my most common form of lapse this summer. It's more immediate and easier to hide. I'm trying very hard to stop, which is often why people at church will notice me drawing, or writing, or drawing butterflies on my arms. I will be going back to school, and that knife will be there, and I don't know if I'm strong enough yet to throw it away. It is very realistic to think that I will have a very large relapse. It's a very scary thought, whatever I choose, whether it's to give in to my addiction, or to make an even larger step towards ridding myself of it. There is no easy way here.
2. I have very serious depression, which has only gotten worse over the years to the point of me coming very close, dangerously close, to committing suicide last fall/winter (the only thing left for me to plan out was the actual date). And me still sometimes planning it out. It's a very serious thing that I am working with. Right now I am not on medication, mostly for reasons of cost and the stigma surrounding it from a cultural and familial standpoint. I will most likely need to start setting those up again, though, because I think that my particular strain is Seasonal Affect Disorder, where during fall and winter I am severely affected, but during summer it lessens up. Not disappears, but lessens up. That also might be because I spend summers at home, usually, where I have to hide it a lot better. At least, I feel like I do. It has been getting worse every year, and with last year being as scary as it was, I'm terrified for what this coming season will bring. Absolutely terrified. If you want to know what this feels like, listen to this song. I've named my depression; his name is Ezra. This is a sort of lullaby he sings to me. Not a very nice one, I'll give 'im that, but very hypnotizing. Impossible to get away from sometimes.
3. I was sexually abused as a child by someone very close both in age and relation to me (no, not a father, or brother, or uncle. But in that vicinity close). To this day I am terrified of physical contact, especially from people who come up from behind me. And especially from men. Just sitting by a guy sends me into panic.I feel very unsafe most of the time. I dislike large crowds, I dislike being in the close vicinity of a man. In fact, there are very few men that I trust (they are the ones reading this. Or, at least, the ones I've offered this post to). Because of a great of bullying growing up, this experience, and especially because this experience was caused by family, my ability to trust has been shattered since early childhood. It takes me an extremely long time to be even remotely trusting with someone. This last year has the been the first time that I have been able to do that, and it terrifies me. I do not like giving someone that kind of control over me. I was conditioned to know that that kind of control was going to be abused, and leave me both hurt and alone. I don't know if I can express the type of danger I feel that I am in every time there is physical contact with someone else -- even if it's a girl, or a really good friend, it makes me scared enough to cry. If I don't initiate the contact, I cannot handle it. I can't even sit next to people (and I thank my roommates for always leaving a spot at group meals for me to sit a little distanced from everyone else, even if they didn't realize they were doing it).
I don't say any of these things to make you feel sorry for me. I am not trying to be melodramatic. I am not begging for sympathy, or being, pardon my french, an "attention whore." I am not doing this to say "oh, look how hard my life is, feel sorry for me." I really hope that it does not come off that way. I understand that, as difficult as it was for me to write/post these things, it's just as hard for you to read. I wanted you to know this because you are the closest thing to me trusting someone that I have gotten to so far. I feel like being open and honest is the best thing both for our relationship and for my recovery. And I need your support. I am getting professional help, but sometimes I question whether I should be, or if I even deserve it. So many people have gone through so much worse, and I often feel like I am blowing my problems out of proportion. It has taken a few people to convince me that professional treatment is exactly the thing that I need, and their support has been what has kept me alive and on the mend for nearly the past year.
I feel like I'm rambling, and that the points that I have been trying to make and the experiences that I have been trying to share have been lost in the process of writing it all out. I'm trying to decide exactly who to send it to. If you have been invited to read this, congratulations. You are part of a very small circle that I have begun to trust. I hope this hasn't scared you off. I thank you for everything that you have done for me: for the time spent with me, for the uplifting way you have made me feel, for my ability to feel safe in your presence. You will never know exactly what you did that made me a better person (I sure don't). I just know that my life would never be the same without you. I honestly consider you one of my greatest friends. This is an opening for discussion both as friends, and for what I write here on this blog. These struggles are very real to me, and I want to be able to share my successes on here and have you know why these small things (like getting through a social experience with harming myself, or channeling something in a different way, or explaining why a certain situation is so hard) and have you understand why it's such a big deal to me.
Honestly, I'm very scared to share this with you, reader. I'm very scared that you will no longer want to be my friend, that I will be too much to handle, or that it will irreparably change our friendship because this is all that you will be thinking about when we are around each other. I hope it does not. I'm still me; I still love buying too many books, watching too many movies, and cooking egregious amounts of chili ramen noodles. I still want to be a college professor, and get married, and have a family one day. I still really want to be your friend.
Thank you for reading this. If you are still willing to continue our friendship after knowing some of the things that I struggle with, I thank you all the more. You mean the moon and more to me.
-m
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