Supernatural

I just finished season 8 of SUPERNATURAL.

NOW ON TO SEASON 9 LET'S DO THIS.

-m

Thunderstorms

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

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

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

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.

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

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.

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

About Time, Isn't It?

It's about time that I started posting things again. Calling my blog "confessional" actually puts on a lot of unexpected pressure on what I post, but I'm deciding to ignore it and post anyway. To help me out, I've got my reliable lists (they're like my Handy Dandy Notebook when it comes to Blogger Writing Block).

1. I am starting to write again. Not just on a blog, or a paper for school, but fiction for fun. I suck at doing anything more than about half a scene, but I'm getting myself back out there, telling the universe that I am ready to start working towards my dream of being a bestseller again. It's surprisingly hard to get back into writing; it's really tempting to just go to Tumblr or something like that and read what other people are writing. Which brings me to my next point.

2. I love blogging. I love this site. I'm wondering, however, whether I should start blogging on a more modern site, like Tumblr. I've tried having multiple blogs before, and I suck at it, so it would be either here or there. I mean, I technically already have a blog there, but it's not a blog blog. It's more of a reblogging of all of the fandom and feminist things that I find and love. I'm not sure what I should do. Any input would be appreciated.

3. I had my second surgery! Everything went exactly the way the doctor expected it to, and I'm on the mend. It'll be two weeks tomorrow (Monday) since my surgery, and the steri strips are starting to come up off of my incision. I got myself a NICE war wound, one that I have been wanting for a long time. I'm in physical therapy now, and it's like going to the dentist, except they seem to like people. The workers there are extremely nice, it's just a painful process to go through.

4. I've also started reading books again. It helps to be moving back up to my room where all of my books are. I've been binging on Vivian Vande Velde -- she writes for a younger crowd (and by younger, I mean younger than 20. More mid-teen range) but she's so witty and clever! Her writing actually reminds me of one of my best friend's writing. That might be why it's so endearing. Either way, she is a highly recommended author. I've regained my love for reading, folks! It's all up from here.

5. Star Trek: The Next Generation. Need I say more? Although not without its social issues flaws, it is a remarkable show with some of my favorite characters from my childhood. Currently, my favorite character is (other than Picard, of course) Lt. Worf. I've been watching so much of this show that I've actually been dreaming about it. No, really. I've had at least two dreams this week starring Star Trek: TNG characters in them (mostly Picard and La Forge, oddly enough).

6. My brothers are back home from their vacation, and I'm so glad! I missed them! Mostly them washing the dishes, but it's missing them nonetheless!

7. Ow. Owowowowowowowow. Ow. Don't be adventurous, guys. Recovery HURTS. 

M

Confession: "M" is still a pseudonym. Less of one than "Apricot," but a pseudonym all the same.

Reasons for changing from "Apricot":

1. It was time.

2. I mean, seriously, all my friends have made blogs using their real names and here I am with a pseudonym that is embarrassingly not me and it's time for that to change. I am not Apricot, I am not Soren Cantus (my first pseudonym), and it's time for me to stop hiding behind those.

Reasons for changing to "M":

1. It's so much more mysterious than "K." The whole title of the blog runs much more smoothly with the "M."

2. Two of my names start with "M." Only one starts with "K."

3. "M" sounds better (even though the letter "K" is prettier. Just sayin').

4. I still need a little bit of distance from my persona here. I'm going to be "confessing" a lot of really personal stuff in order to attempt to help people understand what I'm going through and what I'm talking about when I refer to certain things in my life. You have been warned.

Also, An Announcement

I'm going to be changing my URL/blog name soon. Nothing big or huge. Just changing the Apricot in the name to my name.

Why?

For reasons.

My Sunburns Turn Into Tans

Hey-oooooo!

I really have no reason to write this blog post other than I'm sitting at work, having just arrived, and am waiting for my boss to get off of the phone so that I can get some pretty clear direction (well, as clear as it gets) and then start my immensely busy day of work. Long days here, fellows, long days. Well, mostly because this week my mother is at camp, and since I don't have a car, I have to catch a ride with my dad to work, which he leaves for much earlier than I usually do. So now instead of being at work at 9:00 AM, I'm here around 7:45 AM.

Like I said, no real reason for this post.

I just want to get back into the habit of posting things. And writing things. I miss writing things. I'm in the process of writing a short story and it's killing me because I have no idea what to do or how to do it. I haven't written a piece of fiction in so long that I think that I've forgotten how to do it. Help me, O Patron Saint of Short Story Writing!

Oh, I guess I could update you on a couple of things. For one thing, I had my first surgery! It went well, and I'm a prime candidate for the surgery where they rebuild me using me (as opposed to rebuilding me using a cadaver). So about now (I think) my cells are growing in a lab somewhere from a sample they took during the aforementioned first surgery. Is that not the coolest thing or what?

On that same note, I'm back to regular gimpiness. I should be able to get in le pool today, which excites me to no end. I'm like on a sugar rush, buzzing over here because I get to get in the pool today and swim around. I got in on Saturday on this awesome floaty lounge chair thingy (you know, the big ones they sell at Walmart with the multicolored bottom and cupholder and a backrest and armrests). Mom got it for her relaxation, but they let me use it so that I could float around with a book and enjoy the pool. The book, my rightfully curious ones, was A GREAT AND TERRIBLE BEAUTY by Libba Bray. GO. READ. IT.

Because I didn't think I was going to be in the pool that long (and I was just lazy), I didn't put on any sunscreen. And then floated around in the sun for four hours. Good news: I got halfway through my book in one sitting. Bad news: I also got a pretty good beating from the sun, which resulted in a sunburn across the top side of me. Even better news: the burn is already going away and taking its rightful place as a tan. Oh, how I love summer! 

Also on the update radar, I like my boss. A lot. The first week, I hated him. I thought he was such a jerk, and I thought that for about a month. Lately, though, he's been pretty swell. He's grown on me. Sure, it's not daisies and cupcakes, but the guy knows that I had a surgery three weeks ago (to the day now), and he'll still carry in big piles of files so that I don't have to gimp around and carry them. How sweet is that? And I mean sweet not in the "awesome...sweet, dude" sense, but in the "aww, look how much he really cares" sense.

You know, I hadn't really planned on writing this much when I started this blog post. Oops, I guess. Unless you enjoyed it, then you're welcome!

Don't forget to be fantastic, my lovelies.

Three More

I've got three more songs swirling around my repeat button. Links are included in the song titles.
 
1. RIVERSIDE by Agnes Obel
This is a pretty pretty song by a pretty pretty European woman. Also, her cover has an owl on it. Awesome.

2. GALLOWS by CocoRosie
I first saw the video for this one, and that's how I started to like it. I don't like it nearly as much as Riverside on its own, but with the video, it's amazing.

3. C'MON by Panic! At The Disco (ft. Fun)
I should not like this song. I repeat: I SHOULD NOT LIKE THIS SONG. Why? Because it sounds like a mainstream pop song, and I normally overanalyze and hate those. But this one? This one I LOVE. It doesn't hurt that it's by two of my favorite artists.

My Old Kentucky Home

I don't know what it is about the Kentucky Derby that makes me so emotional. Is it the rousing, heartfelt singing of my state theme? Is it the beauty of the horses, the passion of everyone there, the ravishing greenness of the grass, the egregious amounts of over-sized headgear?

Is there an all of the above option?

I am extremely passionate about my home state of Kentucky. Those of you who know me in person will know that there is no middle ground with me. I either have no feelings about an issue/object/person/thing, or I have ALL OF THE FEELINGS IN THE WORLD THERE IS NOT ENOUGH OF ME TO CONTAIN THESE FEELINGS.

Observe:
0%---------------50%-------------------------------------172%
Math and stuff   Nothing here, are you kidding me?     KENTUCKY
                 Well, maybe life goals. They keep     TOM HIDDLESTON
                 fluctuating between I HAVE ALL              
                 OF THE CARES and I don't really
                 care at all.

In reference to the above graph, one can clearly see that my love for my home state and my love for Tom Hiddleston are the same.

That is a whole heckofalotta love. 

*Side Note: All of these writing-in-CAPS reminds me of my job where I am writing things in ALL CAPS about 97.8% of the time. I keep typing these things like I have Real Estate Law Feels. I have no such feels. There is no fandom to be had for me here. Just FYI.

Doctors. Again.

Fast forward to moving back home for the summer and two doctor visits later.

Here's the diagnosis:
1. I have arthritis. The doctor called it "minor" arthritis, minor meaning that we can hopefully fix it.

2. I need another surgery. My first surgery, the one that I had two years ago, was successful in removing the loose body floating around and getting stuck (painfully) between my bones (which means that I couldn't extend my knee for...well, months, if not a year).

This loose body was a piece of cartilage that had broken off and calcified between my bones for years (about from 7th grade until after my senior year of high school had finished. Someone do that math for me). When it broke off, it left a hole in my knee. The doctor/surgeon micro-fractured my knee, making it bleed in the hopes that it would fill up the hole. It didn't. The hole is still there (it's pretty massive, actually. I'd be impressed if it didn't hurt so bad). This new surgery will be a cartilage graft, where they will take cartilage (either from me or from a cadaver) and they will use it to plug up the hole. I have to go to yet another doctor to perform the surgery.

3. If the pain doesn't stop, I'm going to gnaw my knee off. With my teeth.