A New Devious Chapter

Last Tuesday, as Lux went to take a shower before his first meeting, I went to really wake up.  Went to the kitchen, and grabbed some small breakfast.  Refilled my coffee, and grabbed my phone to scroll through bits of social media. As I scrolled through, I saw a post about a group of friends not having been together in too long.  It was written in a worrying way, so I went to look, and found that the night before they had committed suicide.  One of the people who had first taught me to play D&D, someone in the group that would cause me to meet Kitty, and likely down the line lead my life to where it is, in so many ways. I took a moment to process that.  Because even though we didn't talk for a while, he was still someone who had had space in my life at one point. And as I went back to my feed, I immediately saw something saying that it was two years since the loss of another friend.  Someone who had been newer to my life, but was genuinely good.  I had found out about hi

While I'm keeping myself busy to try and help, to questionable success, I'm trying to stay mindful of the things I'm wanting. Honestly, I'm barely wanting sex and play lately, which means I likely need them both that much more.  Instead, I'm just wanting time with people.  Time away from this hole of stress, abuse, and negativity.  Time to do little things with people I care about and just feel that positive connection with them.  Even just walking through a park, or sitting in a coffee house on a couch together.  Little actions that help me find some balance between the things slowly digging further and further into my brain, which already makes me worry if I'll be able to find myself again this time. Those small bits of presence with people give me so much improvement.  So much clarity that I can keep going longer. And it sucks that I need that, because I hate needing anyone for anything.  I hate asking for things, and I hate saying that I need someone

I've been continuing to try and find ways to help my mind settle out at all.  While everyone here tends to try and make me feel worse, I can't let myself stew in where I was, or even where I am now. With that, I've been trying to constantly ask myself what I can do with the time I have in that moment.  What can I do to be more productive.  To help someone, or to accomplish something myself. So, no matter how small a thing, I've been working to do more.  Finish more books, draw for more coloring books, make myself work out, be present for others.  And while the people I live with may dig into me more than is even remotely healthy, I'm doing something about it.  I'm trying to help my own mind, because with where I was, I'm honestly not sure how long I would have lasted.

This week, I've been focusing on all the things that have fallen to the side which I know are killing my mindspace.  Trying to contact people, and keep up conversations.  Making plans, and doing things.  I've been diving into what art I can, and books as well.  Making myself stay active. All things that I know help me function and keep from wanting to curl up in a ball the way I was. I need to keep kicking myself in the ass to make all these things habit again.  I can't let them fall aside like they were.

A while ago, I noticed a small dry spot on my eyelid.  It was weird, but stayed pretty small, and was barely noticeable.  I used moisturizer, and it seemed to keep it from getting worse.  Well, weeks later, another spot appeared, which was a bit more visible.  I kept going with forms of moisturizer, in hopes it would take care of it. Fast forward to about two weeks ago, my eyelid is red and patchy.  It's very obviously eczema.  On my eyelid.  Luckily, it's easily covered by makeup if I need to go out.   I wake up last weekend, and my right eye is swollen half closed.  The eczema is bright red, and has covered my entire eyelid.   Well, as if I needed something else to kick my dysmorphia up some more. I found out coconut oil is amazing for eczema, and safe on my eyes, and it's been helping, but still. I'm barely able to work out right now due to Oliver being here, and I have a cold.  Now, my eye is exploded. I spent the weekend wanting to curl up i

I found out about a new game recently, a horror game under the guise of a dating simulator.  When you first boot it up, you get about a dozen warnings not to play if you are easily disturbed or have depression.  Right up my alley for things I enjoy. Well, given that there are far different paths to take, I figured I would watch what a "normal" run looks like, then go through and do the more complete path. At one point, one of the girls confesses that she has always had depression, and that she likes reading things about various emotions because it's the closest she can get to feeling things.  That if she's not feeling nothing, she's feeling pain.  She explains in deep detail how this all affects her, and her reactions to having to admit this to someone. And I scroll down, and see comments. They all agree with that feeling.  They agree with how that absence of feeling no matter what they do is far too fitting to their own experience. I've been talki

I know I said I was going to try and post less negative stuff this year, but holy hell, life saw that post and has been doing everything it can against that. I've been consistently in one of the shittiest mindspaces I've ever been in.  Things at home consistently get worse, I've been stood up or dropped more times than I can count, and had more things be cancelled, pulled from me, or simply made no longer an option. I'm feeling alone.  Alone and in constantly growing pile of shit that pulls me further and further from hope and happiness.  I absolutely notice a pile of key symptoms of depression in me, and they're all here and screaming. A lot of things need to change even with so much stacked against me.

Today marks six years since I kicked out the gnome.  Not even on the day I had planned, but when he tried to pull his manipulative bullshit so close to when I had planned it for, that I pulled the trigger early. So often, my needs and words were ignored.  Even when I was so depressed and my stress levels were so high that I had vertigo that left me unable to turn my head without nearly collapsing (but still taking care of an infant despite this) and told him that I had started having suicidal thoughts, I was ignored, and instead he shoved at me that I made him want to kill himself suddenly.  Trying to weaponize my thoughts, and wanting to be treated like a human.  Everything I would tell him would be ignored.  Everything I said was a problem, and would be shoved down so hard with a big dose of poison and attacks.  I wasn't allowed to have a voice. And then, six years ago, I was done.  Done having that poison shoved down my throat to shut me up.  Done being forced into silence.

Lately, I've been paying attention to what helps quiet my mind when it comes to body image.  It's probably no surprise, but my mental state has a lot to do with it.  When I'm only around my parents, who constantly treat me like garbage, I feel horrible.  I want to curl up in a ball, and I want no one to look at me.  Simply to hide under the blankets, and sleep forever, and not have to deal with any of it. And then I stop feeling drive to work out, and notice those changes as well.  I lose that clarity of mind, or that boost of energy, or getting to see what my body can do. It's terrible.  I hate the feeling, and yet I've dealt with it most of my life.  But, when I remember to work out as often as I can, my posture improves, and I see what I'm physically capable of.  I see my strength, and flexibility, and get that feeling like jell-o afterward.  It makes me see all of that in the mirror, and while I notice all the physical imperfections I have, they seem qui

I'm feeling emotionally torn apart.  Between Lux, and Kitty right now, I have a lot of stuff taking up my energy. Kitty has a primary that he lives with.  She is in the military for medicine, and is about to start her residency.  Well, she recently got her assignment. They were expecting something that would have them relocating just about an hour away for it to be more convenient.  She had also interviewed near where her other partner lives, across the country, where she went to college, and near his brother, again on the west coast.  I wasn't the happiest about any of those, because they all put him farther away from me, and I do enjoy spending time with my kitty. However, despite the planning, she was stationed somewhere else.  All the way down in Florida.  Where none of us know anyone to point them towards a social circle, or help them build a life.  And where Kitty has very little chance of finding a job in his field, or a good option for a masters program as a backup. 

The weekend of Halloween was hectic to say the least.  While at the beast's parade at school, my mother tripped on the blacktop, and wound up breaking her wrist.  Which means I've had to take over everything for a house where I'm treated like complete shit. Now, it's rather obvious that for me service is a form of affection.  It's how I show I care, and it comes naturally, and near effortlessly for those I'm close to. For environments like the one I live in aren't the case for this though.  It's psychologically similar to having to fuck a stranger at gunpoint on camera while being ordered about the whole time if the person were vanilla.  And while that sounds dramatic, it's honest. Luckily, I hade Lux here over the weekend, who provided me much needed snuggles the entire time he was here.  He could tell how off I was, and kept being sure to hug me and make me smile.  It was such a tremendous help, and without him there, I would have been a total m

So, I've been kind of bummed lately, due to the state of things at home.  In order to keep from dwelling on the bad, I'm going to make a list of the good things that bring me comfort and happiness. Night time in the car A cigar and a cup of coffee Walking around somewhere calm with friends Watching others play videogames, and providing witty banter Simple food made well.  Fancy stuff can be nice, but I prefer simple savory comfort flavors. Cooking for loved ones The smell of candles lit with a match Hiding in blankets with a book Random silly conversations Comfy snuggly sex.  Even if it's violent, or full of misogyny, or whatever else, I should want to snuggle with my partner Flailing around to music Making something new Learning Helping friends Sitting outside in the fresh air Old fantasy movies Silly anime Violent anime Sore muscles, and bruises Endorphin highs Watching fire The smell of warm vanilla Being naked And I'm sure a ton more things. 

So, while my last entry may have happened on Lux's birthday, today is mine! Although to be honest, I tend to try not to acknowledge it.  Due to the amount of toxicity in my life, it's either been ignored, used against me, or just made into something that everyone involved should have known that I would hate.  I often say that my birthday is cursed, due to the sheer rarity of me even having a remotely decent day, no matter what the plans are. In fact, one of the only times I can remember having a really happy birthday was my 17th, which I spent with Kitty and his ex, and we just hung out, and bbqed in their back yard. It doesn't take a lot to make me happy.  More often than not, I don't want gifts, and if I do, it's something simple that I need.  Last year I asked for new sheets (which I like the super cheap t-shirt jersey cotton sheets).  However, this year I've told everyone that I'm putting off my birthday for a week.  Why?  Because one week from now,

The holidays are never really a happy joyous time for me.  They often just act as a reminder of how unbalanced things are with my parents, and a cultivator of stress. This year is acting as no exception. My mother decided that me making gifts is cheaper than buying them so for three weeks I did nothing but crochet, when I had my own things to work on.  My hands got to the point where they ached, but my constantly throwing finished products at my mother had her more or less off my back.  My father however thinks that I just look at yarn and it magically transforms though, so he's constantly trying to get me to do things that would honestly just create more work than help. I've taken over most of the holiday preparations as a whole.  I'm currently in the midst of the cookiepocalypse, and losing even more time to work on my own things. Really lately I find that I'm so busy working on things for my family while being dragged down by them, that I'm losing myself

Today. It's been ten years today, and it hurts like it just happened even still. A full decade since one of the closest people I've ever had in my life killed himself.  The anniversary of his death is still a bad day for me every year, and I'll likely sleep with the doll he made me again, just like I do every year to have some part of him near me. He was actually my sister's friend first, but as he was around longer, he shifted to being more my friend than hers.  He wasn't just getting stoned with me like he would with her, but going on adventures, and discussing abstract topics and literature.  We barely hugged, but the way we simply acted like we'd never be apart spoke of our care for each other. Across the street from him were some mutual friends we would hang out with most days.  He pretty much lived there rather than with his dad, and we all did pretty much everything together. On the weekends we would play lasertag and sing karaoke.  Yes.  In the

A bit of background: I met Kitty in June of 2004.  We were at a larp, and without any intention, wound up sitting up all night talking, instead of going to sleep like we should have.  No introduction before that; we were both simply awake outside the inn, giggling about random horrible thoughts.  A few months later I invited him to stay in the cabin with us, because he didn't know where he was staying, and after that, we started messaging on AIM nearly every day. We would call each other a few days a week and chat on his commute home from work, or when the girlfriend he was living with was busy with whatever else.  Once winter hit, we started hanging out almost weekly, and we would share a tent at events and faires, because we both liked to snuggle, and it was a convenient sleeping arrangement for us. Our friendship became something that no one really knew what to think of.  I could contact him when no one else could, and he would call me having panic attacks instead of his gir

The good: My brother dumped the cunt he was seeing!  We've only been trying to get them to break up for six of the seven years they've been together!  I get my brother back.  This is fantastic, because my brother is one of the only blood relatives I have who I really care about. I had a bonfire over the weekend, and got to spend time with some good friends, and a few people I hadn't seen in a while.  There was lots of silliness, wiggling, drums, fire, cigars, and positive energy that I've needed lately.  Lux came by, and after spoiling him with good food, and lots of fire, we snugglefucked for hours, then got way less sleep than we should have. I'm finally starting to make a bit of a dent in my project list, and it's seeming somewhat manageable.  Dance classes are starting soon, and the girls my mom works with all want chainmaille jewelry from me, which means everything is getting started.  It's just the kick I need to stay inspired. The bad: My pare

It's no lie, I should be cleaning right now. Creating. Adventuring. Or at the very least typing here about my adventures at Wicked Faire last night.  That'll probably be later today.  Maybe a video post. But no, not right now. I just found out my contract got dropped for the military.  Something I was looking forward to, to travel, and learn, and grow, and do something amazing.  To truly start my life in a way it should be.  And with a phone call, it all got taken away. So I curled up in a ball for a few minutes.  My buzz from the night before died, and I was mopey.  I still am.  I felt like everything was gone. I hate how my luck often works.  How every good thing, or opportunity fails. I sat on that for a bit. And then I got up, and immediately applied to perform at a few venues, and remembered what materials I have here to make things. This is not the end. This is the beginning.  I will do what I love.  I will create.  I will dance.  I will be something. It