A New Devious Chapter

On Sunday morning, I was the first one out of bed.  I shambled my way down the stairs, and started the coffee.  As I sat down, with my warm mug of happy comfort, I took a few sips, and my mom shambled down as well, looked at me, and asked if I wanted to go to the flea market in search of produce. The year round farmers market we would normal hit up is currently closed, so it's been hard to find decent produce, but the weekend prior we went to a further flea market, and found so much we stopped when we literally couldn't carry any more. We went to one closer, which I've known had turned into a shit pile, but she insisted anyway.  As we walked from the parking lot, to find the fruits and veggies we hunted for, I found myself being the target of near constant comments.  People in near consistence either saying that I deserve an award for looking so much like a freak, about how fucked up my clothing was, or at the same time making passes in incredibly disrespectful ways.

I've been trying to actually do more to pursue getting into better shape.  Of course, it's all hard to actually do here, as I fight for healthy foods, and then see only meat and potatoes in my fridge.  I'm trying to make the most of the little things in the house, and create small adjustments to eat better, and feel better. It's much harder to do this time around, than when I lost all the weight after Squishy.  I've cut out most sugars comparatively, and don't drink many calories, as well as limit processed foods to a minimum.  What worked the first time still exists, so the only place to really go from here isn't much of an option in my current situation. And there isn't much advice out there for people in my situation.  Apparently the average person lives off fast food, never exercises, and chugs soda and frilly coffee drinks.  Obviously making changes from that will cause massive differences.  There isn't much out there for people who already

Lux and I were having a conversation in a diner about a handful of things while I was up there, prior to some grocery shopping that needed to get done.  It was a few really important things we needed to go over, on several topics, and then apparently I reminded him of something that he often forgets about. When we go out places, I'm usually with someone.  I very rarely walk anywhere at night by myself, even though Lux encourages me to go out by myself if he decides to stay in when we go out to something on the larger side. He forgets though, that as someone small, and female bodied, who is pretty blatantly sex positive, and while I intimidate women, a lot of men who don't shy away from me tend to look at me like an easy target.  In fact, there have been very few venues I've gone to where at some point someone didn't try to go further than I was comfortable. And Lux knows that I'm not an easy target, because I'm going to keep anything I don't want happe

This week has been incredibly draining.  Every day there has been something else happening that has just left me more and more fried. The old man has been throwing screaming fits telling me how I'm too stupid to function.  This is after I am asked to literally put cookies on a plate for him to offer people who come over and prepping a pot of coffee, because he admits he "can't handle doing that" himself. Gnome has been bringing Squishy home super late on weekends he takes her, both on a holiday (so she spent none of it with us, making my mom a pissy pain in the ass to boot) and on a school night.  Not only that, but I sent her with a school project over her spring break, and in that week, and the weekend after they had barely anything done, but swore they'd get it done this weekend.  I told him to just bring it down, and we'd finish it.  Well, there was so little done, and almost all incorrect, which meant we needed to do it all over, in a week before it was

Even when I was a teenager, I got calls when shit hit the fan.  Massive things happened, and I was the person who could figure out what to do.  The one who reminded other people to breathe, and stayed calm and handled things. For some reason, I kept my composure during these massive explosions.  I can keep cool, and direct things, and figure out what to do, and help everyone, or take action myself. The little things though.  They tear me apart.  I freak, want to curl up in a ball, and hit things, and scream. And, I think it's because there is so little I can do.  With an abusive household, the little things happen a lot, and it winds up turning into me venting to Lux a lot, even though he doesn't deserve it with everything else going on right now. Little issues, and small problems with people being assholes get to me way more than they should. And, I think it's that those little things are so constant.  So consistent, and without me able to just do what's nece

So, I'm pretty open with the general public about the goings on in my life.  About kink, and poly, and gender, and all those things.  Obviously, I don't let it take over conversation with my vanilla friends, and am able to keep things professional and appropriate when needed, but I don't feel a need to hide that from every other aspect of my life. At home though, I deal with listening to my parents spewing all the bigoted shit about how so many people who aren't almost completely heteronormative are broken, sick, looking for attention, or a thousand other things.  I listen to them reference things I identify with, and that they believe those people demented.  They tell me that because I don't have a stereotypical relationship, I'm being taken advantage of, and that I'm just being stupid. And so even though I'm not gay, or trans, I'm in the closet at home, with so many aspects of my life. It's stressful honestly, and I don't know how so

I've been thinking a lot about how looking like me, and feeling like me helps my mood. I went through my old clothes a while ago, and got rid of a lot of stuff that fit poorly, or was getting old, or things that had been bought for me that I just hated.  Since then picking out clothes makes me feel like I'm being me, rather than having to force myself to act like me while in someone else's clothes. I generally dress very differently how society would deem "normal", or a preferred way from anyone else in my house, and a lot of people I know.  I also have a lot of things about my appearance that have me regularly getting stared at in public, and told are bad or stupid decisions. Here's the thing though.  The choices I make about my appearance are the kind of thing that is damn near impossible to actually get me down on.  Because those things make me who I am.  They make me feel like me, and I can't be brought down for that.  My goal isn't to just f