What we do matters.
They are real souls, the 10 people who are watching DF, who are so scared of the stigma, imprisoned at 'home' to such a degree, or hurting so deeply.....10 are watching at any given moment for every 1 who dared to even sign up anonymously.
If you read this, you probably have encouraged at least one person anonymously, with nothing to gain, just out of love. And for every 1, there were really 10, check out 'Activity/All Users' to see for yourself.
How terrible is a disease that 10 are afraid to admit it for every 1 who does.....How valuable is even one note of encouragement, 1 genuine hug. Multiply your hugs by 10........You're changing outcomes of life, you really are
Our wedding is coming up! I talked to a wedding planner last weekend about all the details. OMG -- this is going to be opulent! We're getting the royal treatment, it's absolutely amazing and I cannot wait to get there. We're having a special candlelit dinner that evening, breakfast in bed with mimosas served the next morning, they're giving me orchids for my flowers, and so much more.
Here's the location we chose -- on the ocean!
At some point at the beginning of the dissociative experience I became distracted by a sensation on my cheek which my brain translated as an itch. My mind returned to my body so that I could lift my right hand to my face and scratch it. My arm seemed to move very slowly and it felt like I didn't have full articulation in either my elbow or wrist. To make this strange state even weirder, my mind told me that my arm from shoulder to hand was made of inflexible blocks of wood. When I touch my cheek to scratch, my fingers and cheek had the texture and firmness of wood. As with previous distortions and hallucinations, I accepted this by thinking, as a matter of interest, that becoming a piece of wood might be a unique perspective.
Using my breaths to guide mind back into my body, I noticed the music playing through my earbuds. My breathing was gentle and my pulse a steady pounding that I both heard and felt.
I spent some time trying to evoke that uncomfortable “twang” feeling in an attempt to explore it but was unable to.
Mental Imagery – My Inner Self
With mind and body back together, I felt like I ought to try and get some therapeutic work done through self-exploration by traveling deep within myself. A simple representation of a door appeared before me and I moved towards it. As I reached the door, it opened revealing a hatch and then another portal after that, hundreds of layers represented by different types of portals flung open until finally I reached what might have been a representation of my innermost self. It's closed and was covered by an object. I felt a sort of warning, a sense of caution that arrests my forward movement. I tried to peer around the perimeter but the object covering it sprouted wings that shielded all four edges of the portal. I felt I could transgress this barrier but then a very clear voice inside me said, “Don't”.
That warning sounded firm and final and I will confide, it caused me to completely chicken out! Bok bok B'gok!
The wooden god dissociative experience makes me wonder if the Ketamine stimulated the part of the brain which under imaging, shows activity during a religious experience. In retrospect it doesn't seem as much of a religious experience as a near-death one. I didn't receive any great news for us all or a message from dead loved ones or some insights about the infinite known to cultures around the world as That Which Is. No prophecies, either. So if it was a religious experience, I would rate as a pretty poor one in comparison to other experiences of my own and those told to me.
That threshold I came upon where I had a choice to remain or quit being connected to everyone definitely felt like a very real choice to live or die. I choose to regard my decision as an affirmation of my desire to live in spite of the struggles and difficulties of living with mental illness. Similar to suicidal ideation, it's a sort of comfort to have the choice. I wonder what it'd be like if I opted to remain.
The memory of feeling every type of fear in everyone remains but it has faded. I wish I had named all the fears I felt, it might've been useful to bring up in analysis. As a concept, everyone can understand that there's fear in every animal and person but it's quite another thing to have been in a state where one fancies one can feel it all. Sometimes, I'll call upon this memory when I'm in some group of people feeling anxious, self-conscious and insecure to remind myself that everyone in attendance is feeling at least a little fearful about something and this understanding assures and soothes me.
Regarding the deep introspection I sought through the portals, I have so many questions. Why was I afraid to continue, what was that voice telling me not to? Would there have been yet another door beyond what I thought was the final portal? (Years of therapy has shown me that every time I think I've come upon the final level of all my basement floors, there's yet another right below it. Always another issue beneath the one I thought was the most telling. Ha.) Is there always a “something” covering something else and is that the very definition of personal safety? Is what I perceive as covering my innermost core shielding me from harm or from scrutiny? Discussing this in therapy, I realized that in addition to wariness and fear I also felt vulnerable confronting that last layer. I'm unsure if that feeling was a genuine reaction to my introspection or due to a general feeling of vulnerability one has while conscious under anesthetic.
Outlier vitals reading: 103/68
I spoke with the doctor and his colleague about what I remembered of the experience, noting that the bump in dosage seemed to make a difference. I also met with a clinical psychologist whose practice includes Ketamine assisted psychotherapy. She was keen to know about the music I chose and it's effects on the Ketamine experience. I felt lucid and cognizant during our conversation.
In the next entry, I'll detail the sixth and final infusion of the initial protocol I received back in 2017.
Now that you know
That something's not right
Look at it carefully
In pale logic light
Don't be sorry
If you can't recognize
The errors and faults
In such a perfect disguise
Only illogics can find hidden flaws in a straight logic line
Only erratics recognize errors in patterns of a perfect design
- Erratic Patterns by Carbon Based Lifeforms
Usual pre-infusion protocol. Music playlist a mix of ambient and songs with lyrics in a language I don't understand.
About 10 minutes into infusion, I noticed the anesthetic effects – nausea and numbness – were stronger this time than the previous infusions which I attributed to the increased dosage. Once again I felt anxious and wondered how strong these sensations would get,. What to do with these anxious feelings? I never found that trying to ignore or bury anxiety was effective in dealing with it. Better to find a way in which to acknowledge it, allow it to be present and express itself but not dwell on it. I discovered a bit of mental imagery that helped me. I pictured the nurse standing at a control panel, her hand on a dial that's meant to increase or decrease dosage of the drug. She looks to me and asks, “Are you OK, is it too much?” I reply, “Unpleasant but tolerable. Continue. Give me more.” Unpleasant but tolerable becomes a sort of self-soothing mantra as the effects of the Ketamine envelope me; it acknowledges feelings without overstating them.
Sensation of Motion
About 15 minutes into the infusion I felt weightless and floating and following that, a sensation of horizontal and vertical movement. I peeked through the seam of the sleep mask to verify that my body wasn't moving but my inner ears and brain reported motion nonetheless. Reclining in the chair as I was with both feet raised, an image of laying on a pedestal or platter came to mind accompanied by a strange feeling of being “presented” to something. I felt a bit vulnerable and exposed but aided by some uplifting music, this became sort of joyful.
Dissociative Experience – Celestial Postman
For a moment I'm in that strange, in-between state of semi-consciousness where nothing exists. Then I'm outside my body, looking at my face through a small window of a rocket ship. In the same manner in which we give context to what's happening in our dreams, I knew that my destination was the heavens and that I was a sort of celestial postman, delivering messages written to God from people all over the planet – even personal messages from my attending doctor and nurse. I felt pleased, excited and a bit honored to have this mission. Looking back at it now, I wonder if how I felt is similar to how people who experience grandiose delusions must feel, it was very convincing.
The rocket launch was convincing as well. I felt the motion in my lower body and saw amazing displays of speed and light before reaching space.
In orbit around the planet was a long, carved wooden statue roughly in the shape of a person like you might see in a museum or upon a totem pole. I delivered the “mail” and wondered what it might be like to be a wooden god floating in space. An entity inside the statue replied that I'm welcome to try it for a bit - which I do, but hang on. Where would this entity go if I'm inside? The causal reply was, “I think I'll try being you for a while.” The irony wasn't lost on me.
Once inside the god statue, I lost sense of self in the experience of being connected to all lifeforms on the planet below. If you have ever had what you'd call a spiritual experience, this felt very similar. I don't remember much of what I did or felt in this state. One thing I recall vividly is feeling all the fear that exists in every living thing - all the kinds of fear that there is and the yearning to be free of it. I also felt the pressure of a billion people wanting me to be this and to do that for them and the strain of it all was almost unbearable. One consoling bit of knowledge was that I could leave anytime – but I could also stay there. Permanently. Deep within me I searched for what that might mean and came upon a threshold which, in order to cross, would require a very big and permanent transformation. I choose to leave the statue and just enjoy the feeling of a non-corporeal me floating in space.
So today I'm pretty sad. Was much more at peace yesterday than today. I am writing this blog from in front of an Al-Anon meeting place, the meeting is supposed to start in an hour. I came to the same meeting place last night and nobody showed up. Today I called to confirm time and place, they told me it was a fluke and to try again. There were about 75 people in the AA meeting next door, so where were all those peoples' peoples? Anyway, talked to my mommy and went home. I'll try it one more night.
It's depressing to sit here and listen to people on the restaurant patios having fun. Their laughter sounds like icicles hitting my heart. Heehee, you have no friends, haha, you'll never have this much fun, hoho, your lonely little life is pathetic, hahaha. My conscious mind knows they aren't laughing at me, but my troubled soul knows no difference.
Almost had a fullblown panic attack at work today. Although I managed to continue working despite teetering along the faultline, I still feel like it will happen at some point in the very near future.
I do have a three-day weekend to "look forward to." Hell, at least I have it. I'd like to think I'll accomplish some cleaning and begin restoring my chaotic home back to some semblance of normal. No telling whether I will get closer to that goal or cry for the next three days.
I think I will have to seriously consider the pharm route. At the rate I'm emotionally declining, I feel a stroke or cardiac arrest is inevitable before Christmas. Some days those types of outcomes are all I pray for.
I tortured myself as I usually do,
thinking and jumping to conclusions,
the worst case scenario.
Synchronicities piece things together with reassurance.
And the Universe is for me, right beside me,
Gratitude shows up everywhere.
My dominant thoughts become my
dominant experiences and reality.
I believe in the Secret. Now I must only apply it
The past I cannot change, it is gone,
and the future is out of my control
The Present is the
Past and Future combined,
Just as I type this, it's already becoming
the past. With every letter I type,
the next letter is the future, but the
letter behind it is now the past.
Live in the NOW moment.
Quit time travelling to the past with regret,
and to the future with anxiety.
That makes for a very unpleasant Present.
Life keeps on going. So this is now past,
because the present is continuous.
Never stopping for anyone.
Mistakes come, and they go with lessons.
How would we know anything unless
we first fail, and learn what it is NOT,
to narrow it down to what it IS?
World News scares me,
but I know what fear is.
False Evidence Appearing Real.
People may try to scare me,
but I know everything will be okay.
The mouse in a box
with glass of a type of acid.
This Acid is odorless,
You’ll never know
if the mouse
is dead or alive unless
you open the box.
But in that moment,
is both dead and alive,
because of what isn’t known.
That's how I feel about
reading the Bible now,
Can you take the word of others
and call it a truth
when you don't even know
for yourself if it's true
a red box.
You don’t know
what’s in anybody else's
box but you own.
You have a silver ball
in your red box.
Is your reality true,
and the only truth,
about what’s in your box
as opposed to everyone
Is your box the only truth?
What if everyone had a silver ball?
You’d never know.
What if you were the only one who got
a silver ball?
You’d never know.
What if yours had a silver ball, but everyone
else's box was empty?
What is not known
cannot be considered
the TRUTH for all.
Not random kindnesses bestowed upon me, but random kindnesses I freely gave. Lots of them, too, like a snowball effect, the more I did, the more I wanted to do. Doing nice things without expecting anything gave me a sense of fulfillment. Does this mean that being selfless is...selfish? I once heard a doctor with Doctors Without Borders answer the question "Why do you do this?" with the following answer: "For the most selfish reason in the world. Because it feels good."
Maybe for the very first Valentine's Day in my life, I'm content instead of bitter, even though I'm just as alone. Except that also, for the very first Valentine's Day ever, I truly don't feel alone. I prayed many times today, silently, earnestly talking to God in my head. And I really do feel that God is here.
Peace is a lovely respite.
Wouldn't it be nice if everyday was a day of appreciation and love.
Nobody said or did bad things to others and people constantly
went around trying to help and look out for those, who are
less fortunate than others. Boy oh Boy what a world it would be.
Happy Valentines Day, Love Floor 2017
I think I may blog daily. I find this freeform spewage lightens the burden on my shoulders. Read it or don't, makes me feel better either way.
Today I had a better day. I still cried most of the day, which actually started yesterday, and finally stopped after I got out of my therapist's office. My therapist is wonderful and I am so grateful for that. I felt better just sitting on her couch bawling, because I know that when I'm there, I'm safe to feel any damned way I want to. Mostly we talked about my son and his ongoing heroin addiction while I cried nonstop. When I left I said I look forward to a time when his addiction is not the focus of our discussion.
Work was better today too. Yesterday I was sort of made to feel stupid - and yes I realize it's my choice to let others do that - but overnight I thought of a diplomatic way to handle the situation so it didn't turn into a bitchfest. So I handled it with some grace instead of raw emotion, and you know what, that was empowering. I am a tiny bit proud of myself for mulling it over instead of acting on impulse. I guess old dogs can sometimes learn a new trick.
I almost blew off work today but I finally managed to rally and drag myself through the sh*tstorm of major city traffic. Also grateful that I did, because I helped a lot of people at work today, and it made me feel needed. I still have zero social skills but feeling like a necessary piece of my organization gave me a rare sense of belonging. I liked that feeling a lot. I really do love my job and even though I have had some not-perfect days, I'm quite grateful for it. Traffic bites every day but I live in a huge city, so it can't be avoided.
As I write this, I am parked across the street from my house to watch for my son gathering his things from my front porch. He's threatened to **** me three times now, because I was involved in keeping him away from his daughter. I love him, but he's MIA while this hideous beast of addiction has him captive. I long for my son back whole, the man he could be, will be, once this horrid beast lets go and is finally damned back to hell. Yet even as I am saddened by this continuing nightmare, I find myself grateful that I have again (and for the last time) found the courage to say enough.
So even though I've not eaten a regular meal in days, and my head and heart ache as per normal, I found a scrap of peacefulness in the gratitudes I discovered throughout my weary day. God and I are still at odds right now and I'm still plenty irate with his (perceived as such) indifference to my plight. But my therapist says he's a big guy and he can handle my cursing his designs. And I can live with that, today.
I remember listening to Paint it Black by the Rolling Stones when I was in college. I played it over and over again because it so completely described my outlook.
Kind of sad for a dumb ass 18-year-old kid to be thinking that way.
41 years later and I still feel the exact same way.
Honestly, there are many days where I wish they'd just plant me in a room somewhere and fill me up with sedatives. I could then just lay in bed and not give a sh!t about anything.
I kind of don't give a sh!t right now, but the attitude causes me anxiety and loathing. Better to be all numbed up and not concerned with anything more than getting to the bathroom without falling down.
I've been gone for a while because I was trying to sort out a problem that I recently had. I had obviously made a mistake, or I call it that. I'm afraid to tell what it is because I don't want people thinking the wrong things about me. But.. well, I had to see my psych doc on the 28th of January. He has me prescribed Cymbalta, Lorazepam, and he used to have me on Invega, but I had a seizure, so I quit taking it for the rest of last month. So, I wasn't on my antipsychotic med. I went about 2 1/2 weeks without it, without anything to stop the psychosis. Anyway, on Sunday the 27th, I was WIDE awake, and it was midnight, and I HAD to get sleep to make it for my 10:30am appointment with my psych doc. I searched everywhere for my Melatonin, because that's what I use to help me sleep. I couldn't find it anywhere. So, I had quite a few pills left over from previous prescriptions that my psych doc had written for me years ago. I thought it wouldn't hurt to take on of them to help me sleep so I could function the next day.
Boy did I get in trouble for that. Lo and behold, they gave me a urine test on the 28th. I only took 0.5mg of Klonopin. I had been prescribed that years ago but still had some left. I was actually saving it for in case the world gets more chaotic and I'd eventually need them, just in case of some sort of apocalyptic type event, ya know? Better safe than sorry. Well, I'm sorry now. He b*tched me out about taking it, because it shows up on the "KASPER" report (In Kentucky, of all places, I hate it here worse than anything) (Kasper, the Unholy Ghost). He said it made it look sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo bad on me. Thankfully he left some notes about it just being a desperate attempt to get to sleep so I could function the next day.
I got so upset about it that I harmed myself twice when I got home, and I flushed ALL my emergency medications down the toilet. After this, I had nightmares galore, so much stress, I couldn't think of anything except how BAD my doc said it was. I agree I shouldn't have taken it. I should have forced myself to get out at midnight to get sleep meds at the store.
I felt I could do nothing right, and I'm just now barely able to keep it out of my mind. I've always been sensitive and been so concerned about what people think of me. I'm working on changing that. I've not made it yet, but I'm working on it.
Also, he ended up giving me a few samples of pills called Rexulti I think it's called. It works pretty decent, IMO. Reminds me of Risperdal. But I can't take Risperdal anymore because it gave me gynecomastia.
I just hope this one continues to work. I bet if I'd have been on an antipsychotic med all month, I"d have been able to think more clear and wouldn't have made the mistake of taking a previous prescription.
So anyway, that's why i've been gone. I'm embarrassed that I'm writing this, but they've wh*red around my "Kasper the unholy ghost report" that it wouldn't surprise me if everyone in the whole state knows what I done.
One little thing. One little mistake, and the put it on a permanent record for you. Reminds me of that social credit system in China.
This is going to be long. Both my fiance and I are having a rough time right now. Together, we are doing great and are strong, so that's not an issue. But we are both facing enormous and mounting work stress. His job is now 100% commission and his checks have significantly dwindled lately, to no fault of his own but due to dysfunction within the company. He is beyond stressed about the dwindling income, naturally, which makes things harder for us financially. I am very stressed about my own job because my plate is overfull with clients and due to the structure of our work. I won't get into the details, but it's far too much, and this week I spoke with HR, the CEO and my boss about it in a meeting that was called because of the issue I was having.
Now I don't know if there will be negative repercussions from that meeting, which worries me a bit. Beforehand, HR told me that the CEO respects me. I am the most senior person in my group and department, I am doing great according to my boss and HR, and when I first arrived, my boss point blank asked me for my input and feedback on how they do things and whether they can be done differently or better. So after learning the ropes, I finally spoke up and gave them my feedback.
When I spoke with HR after this group meeting, it seemed that I may not have gotten my point across in the way I had originally intended and that perhaps I did not express myself in the best way to the CEO about the issue I was having. However, my boss is now working with me on ways to resolve the issues I brought to the table, so at least something positive came out of it. But the writing is on the wall for me there: I have to leave -- bottom line. After seven months, I've decided the place is dysfunctional, it's a high burnout work environment that loses more employees than it hires, and I am no longer happy there. That is OK, but I am VERY eager to get out. Having one foot out the door, or really, both feet, helps me to feel much better about it though. It's just a short-lived pain I have to endure. I know I am a very strong person and that I can handle this, but I need to rely on my coping skills and on some days, I feel I am about to break down and lose it.
Now, on top of our individual work stress, my fiance is also facing massive daily migraines that won't go away, a shoulder injury that has resurfaced, and an unhealed and painful broken toe. He's in immense physical pain and agony every day recently. This has come on suddenly, during the last week or two. He thinks his shoulder injury was exacerbated while shoveling. The migraines he believes are due to his work stress. He is very strong though through this, which I admire about him. He still maintains his sense of humor through the pain, which is absolutely amazing to me. I wouldn't be able to withstand that level of pain and I would be in tears, but he has a much higher threshold than I do. I am pretty blown away by his strength, and I honestly need this right now or else I would completely crumble. I need him to be strong. I cannot shoulder my stress, his stress and his physical pain all by myself.
So today I have decided that I am going to think of all that I have to look forward to that will help me cope with all the stress. We will have a beautiful Valentines Day celebration later this week, I have a paid holiday next Monday the 18th, we have several amazing concerts coming up in March and April, and then in May, we get married and go on vacation for a full week. This is how I cope-- I need fun activities and breaks to look forward to.
And today I will also apply for a job that couldn't be more perfect for me. In fact, it's the exact role I decided I want. So I'm putting my effort into that application, which will also help me to feel better. I think I will aim to apply for a job once a week, if possible.
Also today I am going to put on my most positive attitude and embrace everything that is positive and good. I am completely dreading work tomorrow & this week due to client calls I must hold, but I can get through this, as I have always have. At least my fiance and I have each other, and we keep saying that. As long as we have each other, we can make it. Plus, we have many things to look forward to!!!!
So, on that note, I must wrap up and start my day. Valuable takeaway: when going through rough times, line up and schedule fun activities and breaks for yourself that you can look forward to and which will help ease the stress.
You don't have to be Sherlock Freud to figure this one out. Someone has exposed part of the brain on driver's right, and sprinkled that gold glitter used in craft projects over the area. It may look fashionable, but will indeed cause a host of "abnormal activity of neural circuits," as mentioned. Even the regular, "breath in . . . now let it out," request from your doc can cause slight B.B.D., "ballooning brain disorder", followed by D.B.D., "deflating brain disorder." Only try this under the supervision of a trained cosmetician.
Early data mining indicates the practitioner had a heavy hand on the glitter/snow shaker on operation day. The result, increased activity in the frontal lobe, and a heavy dusting of fake snow, subject announced he felt cold. Conversely, when gold glitter is decreased in the parietal and temporal areas, subject asked that a window be opened.
(People, this is a joke. Please don't try it, anywhere. B)
Hear me out, I want to talk about something important.
Adults self-harm too. I know it because I am a 34-year-old woman, married and a mother of three and I cut and abuse prescription medicines and other medicines.
Self-harm is not just teenagers' previlege. It's not just childish attention seeking. People cut for various reasons. Sure some are doing it for attention but also to relieve anxiety, feeling of control, punish themselves or maybe they are hearing voices that tell to do so.
For me cutting is a symptom of my manic-depressive illness. I am doing it because my brain constantly challenges me to do that. I don't hear voices, it's my own mind that makes me hurt myself. My brain is telling me to cut myself and I rarely can resist because my illness is in a very bad place right now.
I am at home this weekend. I came on Friday and will go back to ward Sunday evening. Weekend has been very good except for constant battle against my brain. I am proud of myself that I haven't taken any extra pills. Cutting however has been an issue this weekend.
I had promised myself that I would never cut my wrists or arms. This weekend it happened. I cut my wrist. And I cut deeper than before. I know I will have to tell this to a nurse and doctor. And I am so stressed out my family members to see what I have done. They wouldn't understand. To be honest, I am not sure how I will convince the doctor that my brain is making me do this.
I am also having suicidal thoughts. Self-harm is different and is not related to suicidal thoughts. Just like self-harm thoughts my brain is feeding me ideas of k i l l i n g myself. I know both thoughts will fade away when I get better.
If you are self-harming, seek for help. I would also like to hear from you if you find any of this familiar.
These are my latest acquisitions, captured via a police raid on a drug dealers house. Not the exact dish but the species.
The RSPCA apparently got my number from a couple of Aquatic stores nearby and provided me with the tanks (thankfully) these tanks will be here at 9am tomorrow. The fish arrive Tuesday. So I have a busy weekend setting up two massive tanks for them. Not what I was planning on doing this weekend but what I have coming I could not say no to.
First photograph is a breeding pair of Barca Channa (Rainbow Snakehead Eel) these are illegal in the UK now so the only way for me to legally keep these fish is rescue or buy from a certified captive breeder. You need documentation that the fish was captive bred or has been captive for over 10 years. I saw these at an aquarium in Japan 10 years ago and have wanted them since.
Next. OMG OMG OMG. I will need clean underwear for these two. My dream fish. Wolf Fish. These guys are Piranha eaters and with the above possibly the two most aggressive freshwater fish species (with Arrowena) in the world. These guys have been known to leap up to 2 foot from the water to catch birds and monkeys so i need a lid and secured feeding hatch and maybe some chainmail???
I need to learn not to put my hands in these tanks, I will lose digits if I do that.
So I am getting two 150 Gallon tanks delivered tomorrow with thanks to the RSPCA and they have taken my details for other potential rescues. I did make sure to tell them I really only want Bettas and other Nano Fish but these....... oh I love them already.
Anyone have any name suggestions? For any of the toothy cuties coming my way
I'll be allright. Yes, I believe in that.
Things have gotten much better for me during couple of days. I've been very active. I socialize with other patients, go out for walks and take part in groups.
Of course it wouldn't necessary apply at home but at least I am doing things to improve my health here in the hospital. I haven't been to home yet but I am going home on weekend. Maybe stay one night.
A strange thing happened to me. I haven't been able to listen to music in so long but now I've made progress and found music very important again.
I'm listening to my favorite artist, Bon Jovi. It got me through rough years or my youth so it means so much to me.
I haven't been able to cry in months or even years because I've felt so empty. So this thing happened to me that listening to BJ made me cry. And I cried and cried and cried. I got connected to that person I used to be. It was like I was 18 all over again. I felt so lost, helpless, sad and angry.
I believe this is significant progress. Something that was locked finally opened.
"Hey, man I'm alive I'm takin' each day and night at a time
I'm feelin' like a Monday but someday I'll be Saturday night" by Bon Jovi
Yesterday, oh dear. Yesterday was rough.
Nothing particularly "bad" happened to me, it was just people. People honestly were testing me.
I felt tested all day long, I just could not deal with people. I had to bite down HARD on my rage all day. So much so in fact that this morning I feel like I have been at a MMA Competition. My jaw is aching, honestly like someone scored a perfect left hook.
I'm not really sure how I managed to get through it without snapping and going ballistic on someone. After work I went to my MMA gym and managed a few hours workout on the punch bag and a small (45 minute) sparring session, which worked out a lot of the anger. But sadly not all of it.
I feel really good about my Betta Rescue, usually. Yesterday I felt like I was fighting a losing battle. I am out of space, I cannot physically look after anymore fish otherwise I will be compromising their care. It really isn't hard to google what they need and how to care for them. I did go and take another 3 regardless of this. One of those I had to euthanize when I got him home, he was in such as state. It was for me the hardest but kindest thing to do as he had just too many issues at once. I buried him this morning on a riverbank on my way to work. Had a little Ceremony for him.
A lot of my conversations lately about these and rehoming them is the simplest fixes to cure their issues (most caused by owners/shops not being knowledgeable) such as a heater to keep the temperature steady. Truly a small cost to provide a reasonable level of care. But people don't want to spend more money, or worse, they seem to think I have an affiliation with the local Aquatic Shops. I don't even mind the tiny cups they come in or the small tanks that you can purchase for them (usually called "Beta Palace" or something similar) as long as you can take care of the temperature and water parameters.
Another thing that really annoys me lately is the newspapers, or as I refer to them Mein Kampf with Pictures. I have cancelled my subscription this morning, I can do without the triggers that they provide.
Anyway this morning, honestly I really could not give a single f@ck. First thing that happened today when dealing with a large customer they threatened to complain about me to my boss, to which I said something along the lines of "Oh good, she does so look forwards to them" yeah that went down well. So I have a disciplinary hearing later on today. Oh well. It'll probably go the same way as the others and I'll add another Final Written Warning to my file. 5pm Tomorrow cannot come quick enough, I need a rest.
I also need to reflect a little more on what happened with M the other night. But I am not in the right head space at the moment to do this, things are already difficult and strained between us so I don't want to make it worse because I am having a poor day. I also need to distance myself from Z. I feel like a schoolboy around her, it's not helping. I really do value her friendship, but, I guess like a lot of men I am really struggling as I find her so attractive.
One thing I did do last night, which sometimes helps. Sometimes it makes things worse so I don't do it i often but I updated what I want as my funeral plan.
So I would like a closed casket service. Everything is more or less "Normal" and "acceptable" in the plan apart from the final piece of music. Just before my coffin goes into the flames I want an Organist playing "Pop Goes the Weasel" on a Loop
Probably won't go down well but I love the idea of people staring at the Coffin in horrified anticipation.
The first initial of my real name is R. It definitely stands for Regret. I have decades-worth of regret piled up inside my mind.
It's time for some more self-flagellation:
I can trace part of the "break up" with my girlfriend to one specific incident. I was with my daughter at a bookstore one morning and my cellphone rang. It was my girlfriend. I quick ran outside to talk with my GF. I don't like talking on my phone in public much anyway. Be that as it may, my GF asked where I was. I told her that I had ducked outside to chat on the phone. She asked if my daughter was with me. I told her that she was inside the bookstore. Then...long silence. We resumed our conversation but it was very strained. At the end, I told her that I loved her and we hung up.
I got the distinct impression that my GF thought I was hiding our relationship. Well, she was right in a way. I felt weird talking with her around my daughter (who was still living with her mom). This was almost 2 years after the divorce so I should have been more open about the relationship. But I was having one helluva time changing my mindset after 30 years of marriage.
The relationship between my GF and me ended not too long after that. I simply never heard from her again, even though I tried to get in contact with her via phone, text and email. Almost two years later, I still feel sharp pangs of loss and regret.
Just one more "coulda woulda shoulda" issue from my past.
Today is the 2nd week anniversary of my little Charity being "Officially" Open, I have always taken in any fish that I see that is suffering, not just fish but that is where my concentration is currently.
They have been a massive help, they rely on me for everything. Since I've had them I have not had a day where I failed to get out of bed. It has been very stressful however but massively rewarding. So I thought today I would share the little ones that I aim to rehome in the next week or so. The first is going to be hard to see go....
Floyd - Oh Floyd, you need a better name buddy. Something to show the warrior that you are! Floyd is the first set of pictures. I walked into my local Aquatics shop and found this poor poor Betta floating on the top of his tub. He was very stressed, cold shocked and had swim bladder issues. I woke up every Morning for the last 2 months expecting to see Floyd floating lifeless on the top of his tank. He stayed in the shallowest tank I have, fed hourly on live food and generally got so much attention. He has not and has gone from strength to strength, I popped around to his new home this weekend and he has a lovely home cycling at the moment, once the tank is finished cycling he'll be very happy. He'll be 2 doors down from me where I live at the moment which is a few minutes from my work so I can keep tabs on him. Z is taking him in, I need to work on S now for the smae, maybe take in Samphire?
Jefe - Picture on the left is him today, right is him 2 weeks ago. I got him from "Little Timmy", (not real name) Timmy got Jefe for Christmas. He was in a small unheated, unfiltered tiny bowl. He was a surrender, he was with his family for about a month. Again he was cold shocked as no heater in tank and its winter in UK. Also a lot of tail biting issues. He is a Delta Tail and I have had some serious Money offers for him. He is staying with me (ish) and will be going into the reception tank at work. This is because Jefe loves people and movement, usually fish tend to shy away from a lot of movement and this is why i place tanks in corners and on shelves. Jefe doesn't, he rushes the glass and shimmies away when watched. A right tart!
Khan - I don't consider Khan a rescue, he was given to me in a severely bitten condition, essentially I believe that his tank should have had some more plants and top cover and this would have solved the issue (IMO). However the owner decided to give me the fish and the tank (20 Gallon Long - THANKS!!) so I couldn't really say no as this gives me housing for all of these 4 fishes. Again he seems to be a Delta Tail, no offers or Lasting Home for him yet. I have been speaking to people and have some interested parties but they seem weirded out by the fact I don't want money for him, just the fact he'll go to a good home is enough.
Samphire - Well this guy, he was mis-sexed (thought he was a female) and he lived in a Sorority Tank with 15-17 Females. Yeah, he is clearly a male, and the females literally butchered the poor guy. When i came to get him, he was exhausted on top of a plastic plant being bitten by at least 4 other fish. Anal fin damaged (unable to straighten in water), Caudal Fin essentially missing (had to crawl), Dorsal Fin Gone, not pictured that well but he had also lost his Pectoral Fin (unable to crawl...much). He is another fish that I was not expecting to make it through one night never mind the past few weeks. I've now had him for the same amount of time as Floyd, in fact they have been shelf mates for the past week or so. Oh god, setting up his home!!!!!! He lived in a Sump Tank in a tiny puddle (literally 1" of water) until his fins started regrowing enough for him to have a filter. I fed him by dropping the food into his mouth, he had so little strength. I moved him into a 3 Gallon tank when he got his fins, he is a jumper so after picking him up off the floor countless times. I got him a 5 Gallon with Lid! I am trying to persuade S to take him in.
I've also taken in a trio of Baby/Juvenile Axolotl's, it was actually the tank I wanted (96"x12"x12"), I had planned to use this tank on my windowsill (massive window) to try and propagate some more Aquatic plants, but couldn't really do that and turf out these three. SO I have divided off a section for planting and have left the other section free for their home, once they grow a little larger I can remove the divider and plant the rest of the tank, I am concerned that they will eat the sand or gravel until they get a bit bigger. Meet Rikki Tikki and Tavvi, they are very cute and my first real experience of keeping Amphibians and especially young ones.
You know, it occurs to me that I do not have a very good work - life balance. And my saying that should be taken as a massive understatement probably. I have no life outside of work. I can't afford one - we only have basic bills, we can't pare anything down anymore. No safety net (ie savings or credit cards)... it's hard to try to have a life when you cannot afford to leave the house, you know? I guess, now that I think about it, there are things I could do.
I've tried crocheting recently. It's been a few weeks since I picked it up, but I am working on a scarf. I"ll have to show you when I get it done enough. At the moment, it could either be a scarf or a really big dish cloth, LOL. I'm only doing single stitch crochet, and just barely at that. But it's something. I keep trying counted cross stitch, but it's so detail oriented, I get tired of it after a while.
I'm also writing again, sort of. I've put down my Supernatural - Doom fanfiction for a while, and my original Supernatural fanfiction. I started a version of Supernatural that incorporates more 'Christian' beliefs. I'm not very far into it - only about 15 pages or so - and I'm just getting to the part where I need to figure out how these changes affect Sam and Dean Winchester, and specifically their lives 'in canon'. How much will change? So far, I've primarily dealt with Castiel and some other side characters I made up.
For me, the hardest part of writing has not been the actual writing - it has been the research and thinking. I finally had to put my Supernatural-Doom AU fanfiction down because I had so many re-starts in the beginning (re-working it because there was a serious flaw in what I came up with) that I just completely lost the story in my head. I set it down nearly a month ago and haven't picked it up again. That taught me a lesson - certain things need to be thought through before I start typing. Because having to interrupt that process once I get started really ruins my ability to continue writing the story. I am also wondering if in those cases I should just keep writing the story out the way I had planned, flaws and all, and then re-work it. But some of the flaws I felt were too big - big enough to influence where the rest of the story went. So I kept re-starting.
It's been probably two months or so since I picked up my original Supernatural fanfiction, the one that started all this. Well, that's a lie. It's really Sherlock (BBC series) that started it. Just like in real life, how Sherlock was the original fandom. Sherlock is the fandom that started it all. When Doyle tried to kill off Sherlock, fans protested in large numbers, wearing black mourning armbands. He had to bring Sherlock back. So we are the first - fitting therefore that my start in writing fanfiction should be with Sherlock. I haven't published it on AO3 yet, though. It really sucks, actually. My Watson is far too open and comfortable with his sexuality to be true to Watson in the series. Watson in the series is a stereotypical repressed Englishman. Feelings, what? I haven't figured out how to fix that.
As far as my own original story, I am also stuck there. I'd really like to write a dragon story set in relatively modern urban setting. Hardly anyone does that seriously, and when they do, it's always in terms of shifters. But my imagination is still locked in 'McAffrey Pern' Mode. If you've read Anne McAffrey's Pern series, you'll know what I mean. If not, what I am referring to is sentient telepathic dragons and humanoid riders in a pre-industrial setting. I'd like to transfer that over to a relatively modern urban setting, without making it steampunk or going too far back to early industrial / Edwardian / Victorian times. I'd like to stick with current time, or slightly in the future, without being dystopian.
But there are so many moving parts - can you imagine the US military industrial complex if someone bio-engineered dragons? Forget the size for now, just the concept; size brings its own problems, too. And how expensive would that be initially to 'own' one? And how does a sentient dragon population affect culture, societal norms, and the previously mentioned military industrial complex? History has shown us how long it took for us to consider our fellow humans - who happen to have a darker skin tone - as human. And they look like us. In many ways, we are still struggling with race as a society, at least in the US. And like I said, that is our fellow humans. How much more difficult would it be for humanity to admit that dragons are sentient and have the same right to self determination as humans? And that doesn't even count starting on characterizations.
I have two completely different story ideas in my head - one pre-industrial and one tentatively future modern. I know that if I can get it straight in my head, I can write it. I'm still not sure about my ability to grasp characterization, though. One of many things I am not sure about. Oh, and I still haven't mentioned my Christian-based Armegeddon storyline....
Anyway, enough rambling on. Time to put the old nose to the grindstone so to speak.
I used to care. Really, care.
Sometimes too much.
However, after these last few years - I'm not sure when, exactly - I just don't feel it anymore. Not like I used to.
I don't feel that spark in my heart when I should, or that quiver of fear in my gut when I know I should be nervous. I don't feel any sense of urgency when I think about what will come next in my life; what I should be doing to improve within the next month - year - 5 years.
I don't even care that I don't care anymore, I'm just waiting.
Yesterday - Sunday - I managed to get out and walk 1 1/2 laps, which ends up being 1.3 miles. I missed Saturday - don't ask me how. I think I entered some sort of time wormhole or something. It wasn't like I was busy or anything - I barely made it off the couch. Which is standard for me. And Friday I was out of town, left early by 700am (early for me anyway) and didn't get home until nearly 645pm. Anyway, I managed to walk yesterday (Sunday). Yay. I still feel like I'm failing, but I am trying not to let myself give up. I want to be healthier and lose weight for my husband. He loves me the way I am, but I don't love me the way I am. You know? At the moment I weight marginally more than he does - probably only by about 5 or 10 pounds, but still. I used to be really skinny, naturally. I think, looking back, I must have had a high metabolism or something. And somehow having kids changed that a little. Anyway, there it is...
Here's my 'whuff' for the day...
It's a stretch and probably fierce competition, but I applied for an editorial role with a top publication company in my industry. It involves public speaking, NOT my forte, and lots of travel across the globe maybe 7 times a year, but what they heck, I figured why not try and put my hat in the ring to see what happens??? I want a different role and need it badly. I like my current job for some reasons, but I don't like my actual position anymore. I want and need something different and I love to write. I would be thrilled to land an interview! That would be quite a feat!!! I pretty much qualify except for the public speaking aspect. We'll see!
Happy Superbowl Sunday!